Every freaking night he cuddled her! Tonight of all damn nights he decides to play hard to get!
She was tempted to just roll over on top of him.
But he would KNOW then. She wouldn’t be able to pretend she’d been sleeping, gotten caught up in his love making and just decided to give in.
Damn him!
Fuck!
Shit!
Hell!
She heard a very distinct snore.
That bastard! It took every ounce of Alexis’ self-control to refrain from rolling over and clobbering him.
Alexis lay, wide awake, fuming. When she had considered risking humiliation and rejection, she had not considered that she might have to take the initiative. She had thought she would only have to play sexy, and easy, and he would do the rest.
She couldn’t decide what to do now.
How the hell could a man just lie down and go instantly to sleep anyway?
She listened.
He was definitely snoring, very rhythmically. It didn’t seem likely that he was faking it just to torment her.
If he hadn’t been a mountain, she would’ve rolled him off the bed and onto the floor. She was oh so tempted to try anyway.
After a while, she began to realize that she’d lain tensed so long that she was beginning to cramp. Her arm and shoulder were going numb.
Thor was too close for her to simply roll all the way over to her other side, facing him. She would have to roll in place.
If she did that and he wasn’t really asleep, he’d know she wasn’t either.
She was going to DIE if she didn’t move. Fire had begun to ignite in her leg muscles and it had nothing whatsoever to do with passion.
She rolled onto her back, took as deep a breath as she dared and held it, listening.
He continued to snore as if he was dead to the world.
She rolled her head in his direction, cracked an eye.
He appeared to be sleeping.
Quickly, she revised her plan. She could roll toward him, asleep, of course, throw her leg over him, maybe her arm….
She was on the point of rolling when he did--presenting her with his back.
Damn it!
She glared daggers at the back of his head.
She should just give up. It wasn’t going to work. If he realized she was doing it purposefully, he might just freeze her out.
She fumed about it a while and finally decided, the hell with it, she was going to get laid tonight, one way or another!
She rolled, coming up snugly against his back.
He’d stopped snoring.
She couldn’t decide whether it was because he’d rolled onto his side, or if she’d woke him.
Finally, she slid her arm causally around his waist. Had he tensed? His breathing rhythm changed?
She reached around him, feeling for a flaccid member. Her fingers closed around a cock that was rock hard and ready.
Her breath left her as if she’d been punched in the chest.
For several moments she wasn’t certain what to do. She couldn’t very well pretend to be massaging him in her sleep. Could she?
The hell with it. So he knew she was awake, damn it!
She slid her hand down his shaft, cupped his testicles, massaging them gently. They drew up into a hard, tight ball. She slid her hand up again, rubbing his member in a gentle gliding motion, up, down.
His breathing became harsh, irregular.
She lifted her head, brushed her lips against his neck then tasted him with her tongue, licking along his neck to his ear. She came up on her elbow to reach his ear, catching the lobe between her teeth, biting down gently, tracing the convoluted shell with her tongue and all the while she allowed her hand to move over his erection, massaging him.
When she lifted her head, he rolled over, staring up at her.
She gazed back at him, wanting him to see in her eyes that she wanted him, loved him, that she was asking for forgiveness.
He said nothing.
She had not expected it to be easy.
After a moment, she allowed her gaze to follow her hand, watching as she massaged him.
He truly was magnificent.
She moved over him, took his hard shaft into her mouth, suckling before she began a rhythm, pushing him all the way into her mouth, then slowly lifting her head and allowing him to slide out again.
He groaned, pushing his fingers through her hair, gripping her head, guiding her.
He was huge.
After a few moments, her jaws began to ache. She persisted, determined to pleasure him in the one way she knew men loved best.
A rumbling growl emerged from his huge chest. His fingers tightened almost painfully in her hair, tugging.
She lifted her head to look at him, but did not release him, merely ran her tongue over the head of his shaft.
He grasped her shoulder, pushing her back onto the bed and following her. She spread her legs, welcoming him as he came over her, lifting her hips. He pushed inside her without a pause, slipping with little resistance through her wetness. She clutched his shoulders, trying to pull him close. He resisted, holding himself away from her with locked arms, staring down at her as he thrust into her over and over.
She was disappointed, but soon forgot it as she felt the pleasure building in her body. She gasped as she neared climax, closing her eyes.
She was on the verge of climax when he abruptly pulled away from her. Her eyes flew open, but before she could protest, he rolled her over, lifting her until she was on her knees, thrusting inside her. With his first thrust, he struck her G-spot and Alexis cried out, feeling her stomach muscles clutching at him, spasming with pleasure. She grasped the sheets in her fists, burying her face against the soft bedding to smother her cries of release as it washed over her in waves.
Her climax set his off. He thrust into her over and over again, a ragged cry torn from his throat that sent shivers racing down Alexis’ spine. Finally spent, he stopped, breathing hard, raggedly.
Alexis’ knees gave way and she collapsed onto the bed on her side, gasping.
After a moment she realized that Thor had not lain down beside her. She looked up at him.
He was standing beside the bed, breathing hard, his expression unreadable.
Without a word, he turned and strode from the room.
Stunned, Alexis watched him leave, unable to think of anything to say.
Slowly, a knot of misery formed in her throat. “Well,” she murmured. “I did manage to crack that shell, didn’t I?”
She wondered, however, why she felt like pure hell.
Chapter Eleven
When thirty minutes, and then an hour passed and Thor had not returned. Alexis rose, turned on the lamp beside the bed.
It was late, but she didn’t think she could sleep to save her life.
She got up finally, went into the bathroom.
She wasn’t certain exactly what she had expected the first time she’d made use of the facilities, but it had been nothing at all like she could’ve imagined. The bathroom was most definitely not archaic. It was also not modern, as in anything she was accustomed to. It actuality, it looked like something out of the far distant future.
The shower did not spray water. She wasn’t certain what it did spray. It didn’t actually look like a liquid, but rather more like some sort of particles. Regardless, it did not disappoint. She felt as clean, refreshed and invigorated when she used it as she would have if it had been a traditional hot water shower.
She still wished, as she stepped inside, that she had a plain ‘old fashioned’ shower where she could’ve turned it up full blast and allowed the water to beat her misery away.
She pulled a filmy gown from the armoire when she’d finished, pulled it over her head and climbed into bed.
She was certain she could not sleep, but within minutes she knew nothing.
She awoke sometime later, groggy, disoriented and uncertain of exactly what it was that had
awakened her.
Then she felt a hand settle on her hip.
Her heart leapt with joy. “Thor!”
She rolled onto her back.
Adonis was lying beside her, a strange smile playing about his lips.
“Adonis! What are you doing here?”
“I came for a visit.”
“But ... but, you can’t! My god! If Thor catches you…!”
Adonis shrugged. “It is not likely. I saw him stalk out a couple of hours ago. He seemed … angry.”
Alexis bit her lip. “Really?”
Adonis nodded, reached up before Alexis could protest, grasped her band and tossed it across the room.
“What are you--!”
He touched her forehead with a fingertip.
Alexis wilted back against the pillows like a deflating balloon. She stared up at Adonis in incomprehension, fighting the urge to give in to the lethargy.
He stood up, looking down at her, still with that faint, oddly disturbing smile. After a moment, he sighed, reached down and grasped the neck of her gown. The tug as the fabric resisted and finally split, jostled Alexis, rousing her fractionally from her semi-stupor. She frowned, concentrated, finally managed to move her arm to cover herself.
He wagged his finger at her. “I can’t allow that. If you persist in resisting the mind hold, I’ll have to tie you.”
Alexis’ eyes widened. He was mad. He had to be.
He laughed. The laugh sounded strangely familiar. But not at all like Adonis.
He leaned over her, touched her forehead again and Alexis felt herself sinking deeper, felt her resistance failing as her mind began to wander aimlessly.
Dully, she watched while he carefully arranged her on the bed, spreading her legs.
The action was so reminiscent of her earlier attempt at a seduction that it clicked in her mind despite her inability to focus completely, to connect her thoughts. She knew, suddenly, what his intentions were.
She tried to pull her legs up to protect herself and found that she couldn’t. With an effort, she rolled her head to the side and looked down, discovering, to her consternation, that he’d tied her.
He moved over her, looked down at her distastefully and thrust inside her so hard he lifted her from the bed.
Her body had not prepared the way for penetration. Her flesh, like the gown, resisted. She felt it tearing from the assault and, despite the mind hold, a scream of pain fought its way past her frozen vocal chords. She tensed as she waited for the next thrust, too frightened to realize that she might have spared herself some of the pain if she could have relaxed her muscles, too disoriented in any case to wield that much control over her body without the ability to focus.
If possible, it was more painful than the last and she realized it was intended to be as brutal as he could possibly make it. She just didn’t understand why.
Alexis felt herself sinking toward oblivion when the assault stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Her gaze followed as Adonis rose from her and flew across the room, striking the wall and then sliding down it.
She stared at him a moment, uncomprehending, and then the image of Thor swam before her eyes. She blinked, looking up at him, feeling relief flood through her as she realized that he was really there.
He looked down at her, his face a mask of barely controlled rage that sent a bolt of renewed fear through her. She flinched as she saw his hand coming toward her, but he only brushed her cheek gently with one shaking finger before he straightened, turning to look at Adonis.
She knew as he turned toward Adonis that he meant to kill, not subdue him. Dimly, she was aware of the need to try to stop him, but she could neither move nor speak.
He didn’t move as Adonis climbed to his feet, merely stood rigidly still, glaring at him.
Adonis stared at him a moment, a look of dawning horror washing over his face. He screamed, “No!”, thrusting his hands out before him as if to ward off a blow.
Baffled by Adonis’ behavior, Alexis’ gaze moved to Thor’s sword, but it remained at his side, untouched. She noticed then that the walls had begun to quake, the furniture shuddering. The air directly in front of Thor wavered, rippled.
Alexis stared at it, thinking at first that it was some trick of her mind or blurring vision, but it became more substantial as she watched. Like the widening rings in a puddle of water when one drops a stone into it, or a whirlpool, the rippling waves of air abruptly rushed toward Adonis. Adonis fell to his knees, covering his head. The wall behind him disintegrated. The furniture on either side of him disappeared into particles of dust.
Quite suddenly, it was no longer Adonis, but Helen who sat cowering in the corner, untouched as if caught up in the eye of a hurricane.
The funnel vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. Thor stared at Helen in stunned disbelief, but after a moment, his fury returned. He strode toward her, gripped her head in his hand. She fell unconscious at his feet.
Thor looked down at her a moment then turned and strode toward Alexis. Snapping the cords at her ankles, he gathered her up in his arms. The pain, held at bay by the mind hold, flooded through her in blinding waves when Thor touched her forehead, releasing her.
Helen! Stunned disbelief and abhorrence washed through Alexis. Helen had transformed into Adonis only to rape her? Why?
Alexis squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, trying to block out the awful pain. Had Helen hurt the baby? Had that been the plan?
A different fear rushed through her and a terrible dread. She hadn’t realized until that moment, when it occurred to her that she might lose it, how precious the child was to her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the thought of losing it, realizing finally that the wetness she felt between her thighs was blood.
Thor smoothed the hair from her face, caressed her cheek.
“The baby, Thor. I think she’s killed our baby. Help me. Please.”
Thor turned, strode to the gaping hole that had once been one wall of his home and leapt through it.
Alexis gasped, expecting a jarring impact. Instead she heard a rush of air, the flap of great wings as he shifted. Within seconds they settled in the garden at Aurora’s home. The heavy oak door that led onto the garden fell to dust at Thor’s approach. He strode quickly down the corridor.
Aurora’s door flew open before they reached it. Aurora stood in the doorway, her face creased with anxiety.
“She cannot heal herself,” Thor said in an anguished voice. “Help her mother.”
Chapter Twelve
Alexis wasn’t certain whether she was rendered unconscious by drugs, or mind control, or if she simply passed out from physical distress, but for some time she knew little of what was happening to her, rising only in brief snatches to the surface of consciousness before falling into the pit of darkness again. She heard snatches of conversation several times, but wasn’t certain whether it was real or imagined.
“No. Speak. Telepathy hurts her. She’s in enough pain already,” Aurora said quietly.
“Won’t that disturb her more?”
Alexis didn’t recognize the voice and wondered if it was a doctor.
She felt a hand stroking her cheek lightly and recognized it as Thor. A sense of peace settled over her and with it came darkness once more.
When Alexis woke again, she found that she was staring up at the ceiling in Thor’s bedroom. Disoriented, she wondered for several moments if she’d only had a hideous nightmare.
She twisted her head on the pillows, looking at the corner wall where Helen had been thrown in her ‘dream’. No gaping hole met her gaze, but after a moment, she realized that the materials were new. It had been repaired then.
It hadn’t been a nightmare … at least, not in the sense that it was something that frightened but could not hurt.
She felt her belly. It was useless, of course. She was, or had been, only a matter of days into her pregnancy. There had been no telltale sign of a child growing inside her wom
b.
But her stomach was sore. She tried not to think what that might mean.
Moira’s face appeared above her. She dropped the tray she held in her hands when she saw that Alexis was looking at her and raced from the room.
Alexis watched her departure in stunned surprise.
In a few moments, Aurora appeared in the doorway, hesitated, then moved across the room. Sitting on the side of the bed, she took Alexis’ hand. “How do you feel, child?”
“Sore,” Alexis admitted. “The baby?”
Aurora’s face crumpled and Alexis felt her heart skip a beat. “We don’t know yet. The physician believes there is a good chance the child still grows, but….”
Alexis nodded, unable to speak for the lump in her throat. “What happened to Helen?” she asked finally.
Aurora paled. “She is under house arrest. She….” Aurora broke off, collected herself. “She has broken the second law. The penalty is severe, particularly under the circumstances.”
“The second law?”
“No Atlantean shall falsify themselves in order to commit fraud.”
“You mean shift to appear as someone else?”
Aurora nodded. “But it was never anticipated that anyone might do so to commit such a … horrendous crime. The council has not been able to decide upon punishment. She may … be given death.”
Alexis gaped at her. “But … but nothing but murder deserves death, and not always even then. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances.”
Aurora looked at her sadly. “Child, you know very well that there are no extenuating circumstances here.”
“But she didn’t murder me.”
“She may have murdered your child. If the child survives, Helen will be allowed to keep her life.”
“It must be very hard for you. She’s your niece, isn’t she?”
Aurora nodded. “My great niece. But it is harder still that she threatened the life of my grandchild.”
She hadn’t imagined it then. Thor had called her mother, but Alexis had thought, perhaps, it was merely a term of endearment or respect. It seemed … physically impossible that Aurora could have born him.
Aurora’s smile was wry. “I should return your band before your thoughts lead you into trouble.”
Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis Page 12
