Alexis shrugged. The girl seemed to have been expecting her. There was no point in arguing anyway, particularly since the girl didn’t seem to be capable of carrying on a verbal debate. Undoubtedly, she’d just made the acquaintance of her first Atlantean who had rarely, if ever, used her vocal cords.
She was, she realized after a moment, far too tired to argue anyway. Apparently being reduced to unconsciousness wasn’t actually as restful as sleeping. She hadn’t slept in—a while. She found she couldn’t calculate it since she didn’t even know whether Atlantean days and nights coincided with the rest of the world, but her body was telling her she’d gone a long stretch with little sleep.
And just as long without food. Her stomach began to rumble as she followed the girl upstairs. The girl giggled. “Food? You have ‘unger?”
Embarrassed, Alexis nodded. “To be honest, I don’t know whether I’m more tired or more hungry. I haven’t eaten, or slept in … hours, days maybe.
The girl led her to a room at the top of the stairs, gestured her inside.
Alexis stopped on the threshold. Despite the fact that she had been under some sort of mind control, she was absolutely positive that this was not the bedroom she’d been in before.
The girl proceeded to turn down the bed, then moved to a tall armoire and pulled a sheer length of cloth from one of its drawers. She frowned when she saw that Alexis was still standing by the door. “Here.” She pointed to the floor.
Enlightenment dawned. This was to be her room. That’s why it hadn’t looked familiar. She must be tired indeed that it hadn’t occurred to her that in a house so huge there would be many bedrooms, and the servant girl—she assumed the girl was a servant—would not have taken her to the master bedroom.
There followed a short battle. The girl insisted on helping Alexis to change. Alexis insisted upon doing it herself. Finally, the girl yielded, laid the garment on the bed and left. Alexis dropped the robe Aurora had loaned her and picked up the garment, examining it.
She could not only see light through it, she was fairly certain she could’ve read a newspaper through it. Talk about sheer! The fabric felt wonderful, however. She slipped it over her head. There was no mirror in the room, but she didn’t need one. She could well imagine that she looked positively indecent.
Not that it mattered ... really. She was alone in the house except for the girl.
She heard footsteps and leapt into the giant four poster bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
The girl bustled in with a tray, crossed the room and set the tray on the table next to the bed. Alexis felt a welling of gratitude.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed, dropping the cover and scooting to the side of the bed to look at the tray of assorted fruits, vegetables, cheeses and breads. It all looked so good she couldn’t decide where to start first and began to take a bite of first one tidbit then another, barely waiting to swallow before she grabbed another piece.
The girl nodded, smiled.
She didn’t leave and Alexis began to feel a little uncomfortable under her unrelenting stare.
“What’s your name?” she asked around a bite of apple.
The girl frowned, tilted her head questioningly.
Alexis pointed to herself. “I’m Alexis and you are…?”
The girl nodded excitedly. “Moira.”
“Moira. Nice name. Very pretty.”
Moira smiled. “You eat. You sleep.”
Alexis nodded.
“Go to council then.”
Alexis lost her appetite. “Oh. So soon?”
Moira frowned. Apparently that bit of conversation was beyond her.
“Never mind.” Alexis returned the partially eaten apple to the tray and drained the glass of water that had been provided.
Moira gathered up the robe she’d discarded.
“Do you think you could launder that and return it to Aurora and tell her thank you?”
Moira looked confused.
“Clean?”
Moira nodded. “Clean. Aurora. Thank you.”
Alexis snuggled beneath the covers, yawning. She never heard Moira leave.
* * * *
Something tickled her nose. Drowsily, Alexis rubbed the itch. She heard a deep chuckle and frowned. “Go ‘way,” she murmured in a sleep slurred voice, rolling over and snuggling deeper into the pillows.
She was just drifting away again when she felt the warmth of a hand settle lightly on her hip. Her skin tingled. She experienced a brief inner struggle, torn between the urge to slide back into sleep and the first stirrings of desire. Finally, she decided to ignore it.
The hand began to glide slowly down her hip and along her thigh. Warmth radiated through her. Desire took the upper hand, replacing the drowsiness of sleep with the lethargy of budding passion.
The hand stopped when it reached her knee. She caught her breath, waiting, this time in anticipation. His hand slipped beneath her gown, touching bare skin, and began to move upward again, over her hip, his fingertips skimming her belly, pausing. Her heart executed a little gallop of expectancy, want flooding her, awakening her flesh to sensation, his touch sending tremors through her belly and loins.
To her disappointment, after only a brief pause, as if he was trying to decide whether to slide his hand over her belly and between her thighs, or continue as he’d begun, he moved his hand upward, along the curve of her waist, and finally cupped her breast, kneading it gently.
Heat suffused her, traveling from her breasts to her belly.
“Mmm,” Alexis murmured, unwilling now to rouse herself from her half dream state because the hand was doing things that felt very pleasant.
His mouth settled against the sensitive, exposed flesh at her neck, and sent a flight of goose-flesh down her shoulder and arm. Moisture gathered in her sex. Anticipation fluttered in her belly.
Almost lazily, she rolled toward the warmth of his mouth, sought it with her own lips. She felt his weight settle against her length as his mouth covered hers, his kiss gentle, seductive.
His scent, his taste, the firm hardness of his mouth and body flooded her senses like a heady wine. She lifted her hand, placed it against his chest. His skin was warm, soft as velvet beneath her fingers, the muscles beneath rock hard.
Sweet desire gave way to hunger. She touched her tongue to his lips, slid it inside his mouth, touched his tongue with her own, beckoning.
His heart leapt beneath her palm, his breath becoming harsh. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, answering her invitation with a full scale assault to her senses. She closed her mouth around his tongue, sucking. He groaned, rolled until she was flat against the bed beneath him, his mouth ravishing hers now, hungry, demanding.
Her gown was bunched around her waist, his sex nudging her belly as he moved against her restlessly. She lifted her hips, grinding against him, trying to tilt her hips so that her clit could receive the attention it had begun to crave.
He rolled to his side once more, taking her with him. The sound of rending fabric reached her ears and coolness wafted across her skin. Her nipples stood erect, growing hard, swollen, almost painfully sensitive.
She resisted when he lifted his lips from hers but groaned in ecstasy when she felt his mouth skate down her neck and settle on her breast, felt his tongue flick out to taste her. She twisted, urging him to caress her nipple. He covered the nearest with his mouth. She felt the light, teasing scrape of his teeth and then his tongue was nudging her nipple. She moaned in pleasure, threading her fingers through his hair, holding him close while he finessed her, feeling her nether lips growing slippery and wet with desire.
Her heart had begun to race so that she was gasping for air, dizzy. She protested when he lifted his mouth, nuzzled between her breasts.
He cupped her other breast with his hand and she felt his mouth close around her nipple, sucking, then teasing with his tongue. She caught his hand, guiding it from her breast and across her belly until his fingers settled against her clit
.
He rubbed the sensitive nub, pinched it gently between his knuckles.
Alexis gasped, reached for his sex.
He was too tall. She couldn’t reach him.
Frustrated, she skated her hand across his belly, grasped his hips and urged him to move upwards. He moved. She wrapped her fingers around his sex, massaging, gripping him firmly and moving her hand up and down so that he groaned in pleasure.
He sought her mouth again as he moved over her. She kissed him back fervently, parted her legs, tilting her hips to receive him. She felt the head of his member nudging, seeking. She shifted, felt the head of his shaft probing her wetness. Slowly, he parted her flesh, entering her. She lifted up to meet him, felt the resistance of her flesh as it adjusted to his unaccustomed breadth, felt him slide deep, deep.
She wanted it all.
She wasn’t certain she could take it all.
He went still for a moment when he had fully seated himself, changed positions, supporting his upper body with his arms.
She clutched at the straining muscles of his arms, wanting his weight fully against her, opening her eyes a fraction when he did nothing more.
Thor was looking directly at her, his dark blue eyes almost sapphire with desire.
As their gazes locked, need rushed through her, sending a flood of hot, slippery juices through her sex. Her muscles contracted around him inside of her.
A muscle worked in his jaw. Slowly, still holding her gaze, he began to pull away.
Alexis slid her hands from his arms to his sides, downward until she was clutching his hips. She tugged, urging him forward once more.
He clenched his teeth, pushing slowly into her again. When he was fully inside her, he ground his hips against her, the rough hairs of his lower belly teasing her clit.
Alexis gasped, feeling her body building toward climax as he moved, ever so slowly, in and out, grinding against her each time he was fully inside of her.
She closed her eyes, savoring the building pleasure as he continued to stroke her, slowly, building a fire inside her loins.
She lifted her legs, wrapping them around Thor’s waist so that she could control the angle of his thrust, feel him where she needed to feel him.
It brought her to the edge.
She held her breath, trying to prolong the pleasure as long as possible, barely moving, waiting.
Her climax assaulted her, caught her so completely off guard that she cried out.
At her cry, he groaned as if in agony, sinking deeply inside her, quickly now, plunging deep and hard, faster and faster. Each thrust sent another spasm of pleasure through her, building upon the climax she’d only just experienced until she felt herself climbing toward yet another, higher, peak. When at last he cried out in ultimate pleasure, Alexis climaxed with him, harder than before. She bit down on his shoulder to prevent herself from screaming as, spent, he collapsed against her, gasping, murmuring something to her in a foreign tongue that she couldn’t understand.
Alexis barely heard him. Her body was wracked with pleasure so acute she almost blacked out. Sated, she welcomed his weight as he melted bonelessly against her.
She felt wonderfully depleted.
Finally, he rolled to his side, caught his breath and pulled her snugly against him.
Alexis was too weak even to protest.
* * * *
When Alexis woke, the gray of early morning had begun to filter into the room. Two logs lay across her, one on her chest, the other across her hips. The logs resolved themselves into Thor’s massive arm and leg.
With an effort, she tossed them off and rolled to the opposite side of the bed.
She sat there a moment, her face in her hands as the cobwebs of sleep crept slowly away, leaving total consciousness in their place.
Thor snored.
Relief flooded her.
If he was asleep, it was surely safe to allow herself the luxury of thought—and deep regret.
What had possessed her to allow—no urge—Thor to have sex with her? She barely knew him. She wasn’t altogether certain she even liked him.
She was not ‘in’ to casual sex, never had been.
Casual sex might work for some, and she wasn’t one to judge, but the hard fact was she simply could not enjoy sex unless she was emotionally involved.
She had known the moment he touched her, sleep or not, that it was definitely not Eric. She couldn’t use the excuse, even to herself, that she had been groggy with sleep and had reacted in the belief that it was her husband—or even a boyfriend.
She had known the moment he kissed her that it could be no one but Thor.
And she hadn’t cared. She had wanted him to do just what he’d done. She had thoroughly enjoyed what he’d done, participated, encouraged—it made her hot all over again even thinking about it.
The ramifications of her self-analysis suddenly dawned upon her, freezing her to the spot.
She glanced at the man sleeping in her bed. Her heart performed a funny little flip flop that had little to do with the fact that she thought of him as a hot bod and fabulous sex toy.
Dismay filled her. She simply could not allow herself to become emotionally involved with him … with anyone from this place. She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t stay. Even considering a brief affair purely for enjoyment was begging for trouble.
She calmed herself. It was the circumstances, she told herself. She’d been thrown together with a man few women could’ve turned down and lived with themselves afterward. She had merely succumbed to her animal instincts. There was always a first time for everything and last night had been her first completely casual and emotionally uninvolved sexual encounter.
That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
Resolutely, she shook it off. She couldn’t afford the luxury of further self-examination anyway. He was liable to wake at any moment and she still hadn’t decided how to behave after the way she’d already behaved.
She stood up as she heard him stirring, firmly closing her mind to thoughts. Focusing on finding something to cover herself with, she moved to the armoire where Moira had found the gown.
There was little, she saw, to choose from, most of it as sheer as the gown she’d worn, that she had thought was for sleeping, that Thor had ripped off of her. Holding the pieces up now, she had to wonder.
She finally decided on something that looked vaguely like a skirt. In actuality, it was little more than a piece of sheer cloth, held together at the waist by strings about the breadth of apron strings. The top was almost as bad, just as sheer, and only covered her breasts, leaving her belly and back bare except for the strings she used to tie it on.
When she turned she saw that Thor was lying on his side, watching her, his head supported by his bent arm and hand, his expression unreadable.
Alexis said the first thing that came to mind. “It was thoughtful of Adonis to leave these here.” Her tone was wry. The clothing was almost more indecent than she would’ve looked naked, paying mere lip service to the concept of clothing.
A look of annoyance crossed Thor’s features. “I had Moira find some clothing for you.”
Surprised, Alexis lifted her brows. “I would’ve thought, this being Adonis’ home, that it would’ve been him.”
“This is not the home of Adonis. It is my home.”
Alexis gaped at him stunned, confused. “But I thought … YOU! You brought me here! Helen said I was to stay at Adonis’ home.”
Thor swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.
He was gloriously naked.
Alexis’ mind went perfectly blank.
“I am the guardian. You were released to me.”
Something flickered in her mind, almost like a touch.
Alexis recognized it this time, however, knew he was trying to probe her mind. She stared at him, wanting, badly, to release her pent-up feelings about her situation, but it was impossible to keep her thoughts at bay and allow emotion to enter.
“You are guarding your thoughts from me. Why?”
Despite her best efforts, a smile of triumph curled Alexis’ lips. “Because I want privacy?” she said sweetly.
He frowned.
Alexis turned to look around the room, realizing that she should have guessed from the first that she, a prisoner, would be given a jailer if not confined to a prison. They probably didn’t have a real jail or she would’ve found herself in a cell.
Thor grasped her arm, forcing her to turn to look at him. To her relief, he’d resumed the facade of clothing, the loincloth he generally ‘wore’.
“I am your protector, not your jailer. You may come and go as you please.”
“But I have to stay here, right?”
“Until the issue is settled.”
Alexis nodded. She’d thought as much.
Thor lifted a hand, caressing her cheek. “This displeases you so much?”
Alexis ignored the caress with an effort, shrugged. “Being in Atlantis displeases me. I don’t suppose it really matters where I stay. Here is as good a place as any.”
Something, some emotion Alexis couldn’t quite decipher, flitted across Thor’s features. In the next instant, his expression was impassive. “And, what happened before—That was as good as any?”
Alexis knew exactly what he was asking, but that didn’t stop her from giving him a look of complete incomprehension.
He glanced toward the bed.
Alexis glanced toward the bed, assuming puzzlement. She knew she had to respond, however. The problem was she had not had the chance to come to terms with it herself and since she couldn’t decide how she felt about it, she wasn’t sharing her confusion. “Oh, that!” she exclaimed, as if suddenly enlightened. “Thanks! No, it was great sex. Really! Nothing like sex to relieve tension, huh? I can’t tell you how much better I feel now, relaxed, rested … I am hungry, though.”
Thor’s lips tightened. After a moment, however, he seemed to dismiss it. “Come. Moira will have laid out a meal.”
Alexis preceded him from the room and down the stairs. She could almost feel his anger bouncing off her in waves as he followed her silently.
Chapter Six
Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis Page 6
