Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri)

by Teresa D'Amario

  “Not yet, sweet woman,” he growled with amusement. His raised up, and, with one hand, he caressed her body, massaging the oil into her skin, relaxing tight muscles hidden beneath her flesh.

  When he reached her breasts, he gave them a thorough massage, touching all but the center, which ached so pleasantly, waiting for his touch. She’d thought she was aroused last night, but this was different. This time, the blood sang in her veins, rushing like a swollen river in the midst of a storm.

  He took his time. She grew impatient, finding it harder to lie still as his hands worked magic over her body. He straddled her legs, holding her in place with a mere nonverbal command.

  “Tamara, you are so beautiful.” His voice was low, deep with desire, and she remembered the smooth sensation of hot melted chocolate she’d felt at his first words the night they’d met.

  “And you, Kha-Ib,” she whispered. “You are more than I could ever have dreamed.”

  His green eyes glittered in the darkness, and she saw his smile. “Maybe. But I can say this,” he wrapped his lips around one taut nipple, teasing it with the edges of his teeth before releasing it, “you are more than a dream. More than I’d ever hoped. You are powerful in your own right.”

  The empty ache inside her screamed for more. As though he read her mind, his hands moved down, touching and caressing. The oil he used slid over her skin, and, though his touch remained cool, her flesh burned with a need she knew only he could fulfill.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He grinned and slid backward, his kisses trailing from her breasts to her naval. As though he’d found a new playground, his tongue teased her navel then trailed downward. His fingers continued to knead muscle as his lips and tongue worked over her belly.

  When his tongue reached her feminine core and slipped inside, she almost screamed, arching upward. By the gods. She didn’t have time to think about slipping into Ramose’s favorite phrase when he focused only on pleasuring her. Her hands flailed until she caught his dark hair. But she didn’t pull. There was no way on this earth she was going to do anything to make him stop. Indescribable sensations ripped through her, and the once relaxed muscles tightened, rippling inside her, reaching for something she didn’t know or understand.

  “Ramose,” she cried.

  “I’m here, baby,” he murmured. His hands reached up, taking hers from his scalp and clasping them with his.

  Every sweep of his tongue sent unexpected, new sensations inside her. Liquid heat was only part of it, as her body yearned for something more. She fought the need to scream, afraid others would hear, panting with desire. He was destroying something inside her, yet, at the same time, he created something as well. But her mind couldn’t comprehend as sensations crashed through her.

  The whimper escaping her throat grew louder and longer. He released one of her hands, and she snatched onto his hair again, only this time she held on tight. Her body was no longer her own, every muscle tightening, reaching upward. Higher and higher, it reached as though dragging to the peak of a mountain.

  Then it happened. An explosion inside, rocking her body. Her soft keening cries could not be contained. Her body vibrated as muscles clenched and released, over and over. Lights flashed behind her eyes filled with sparks of color. It went on and on until she knew she would die. Her body shook and jerked, and, even if she’d wished, she had no control. The climax went on, vibrating to her soul. She could contain it no longer.

  “Ramose,” she screamed.

  * * * *

  Ramose smiled when Tamara exploded beneath his mouth. Gods, she tasted like the sweetest of honey. He lapped each drop, hungry for more and more. Heat surged from her body, wrapping him in a blanket as hot as an inferno. An inferno he reveled in. As her body trembled, his need built. Never had he seen anything so beautiful or arousing. He’d nearly come when she’d screamed his name. He’d done it. He’d given her the one thing he knew she’d never experienced. He hid his smile of satisfaction despite the ache of his own need.

  Her tremors eased, and she lifted her head to meet his gaze. What he saw surprised him. She wasn’t sated and limp as he’d expected. Her eyes were wild with hunger, her face flushed with heat, and she tugged at his hair, pulling him up her body. He’d awakened her inner vixen, and she wanted more. He was happy to provide. He grinned, crawling up to her arms. Once he was within reach, she dragged him down to her mouth.

  She fed off him the same way he’d fed off her essence. Hungry and wanton, she devoured his mouth.

  “I need,” she whispered. She hesitated, a slight frown crossing over her features. “I need more. I need you inside me.” She said the words as though they surprised her.

  Ramose growled with pleasure. He’d spent his life waiting for this. Waiting for the woman in his dreams to want him. To need him. He plunged inside her in one powerful thrust. She arched upward, her lips capturing his.

  Once seated inside her, he rolled them over, dragging her atop him. This was her night. And as much as he would enjoy sating himself inside her again, he would not. Not until she was complete.

  “I’m all yours. It’s time to take over,” he whispered.

  Her face furrowed in puzzlement.

  “Just like the dance,” he murmured.

  Her eyes went wide with understanding, and a slow, sensual smile spread across her face.

  “My pleasure,” she murmured. It didn’t take long before her body moved with a rhythm which worked best for her. He saw it the instant she found it. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a slow, soft moan escaped her lips.

  Oh, yes, this would be his death. She would kill him with slowness. She moved over him with unhurried, sensuous strokes. Each movement was like torture. Each movement was like heaven. He groaned, fighting the urge to thrust upward. Instead, he cupped his hands over her breasts, his fingers teasing the nipples.

  Her body trembled, as she built toward another climax. A throaty moan echoed in the room about him, and his joined hers. Her muscles clenched him. A silken web filled with pleasure. Her body wrapped about his, dragging every ounce of pleasure from them both.

  Another tremor rippled through her body, and he knew she’d reached that edge all on her own. A spark lit in her eyes, and heat burned all around her body. Flames sizzled along the edges where her body touched the sheets. Ramose moved his hands to the edges of the bed, and let his ice fill the room, wrapping them in a small, tented igloo. The crystalline shield raised over them, shining in the candlelight as he prepared for what he knew would be her biggest explosion.

  With half-closed eyes, he slid his hands again to her breasts. She didn’t seem to notice his cocoon he’d built around him. All the better. No longer able to hold back, he thrust, watching the peaks of her breasts move up and down. She was so beautiful, in her pleasure, her body flushed a sensual pink, but he needed more. He knew she needed more. He raised up, wrapping her in his arms, holding her tight until their bodies were as one.

  She continued to ride him, her sobs of pleasure ringing in their small cocoon like a song written only for him. The muscles holding him tight spasmed, and, before he could gasp out his own pleasure, she exploded. Her body heat intensified, like a small detonation. A bright light ripped from her, and, like a thief, it stole his control, dragging his own climax from deep inside him. He thrust hard, holding her tight against him, his own ice cooling her hot skin as her body jerked and vibrated against him.

  When at long last the sensations receded, he collapsed back, dragging her down on his chest. She didn’t move for long moments, her breath ragged, filled with soft sobs. Sobs he hoped were of joy.

  He comforted her, his hands stroking her hair. He wanted to cry, too. Only it wasn’t sadness. He held in his arms the one, and only, mate for him, and it was he who brought her such pleasure.

  For the first time he could remember, he felt utterly at peace.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tamara opened her eyes, her gaze darting about her, absorbing
her surroundings. She sat on a small bench in a large garden, with trees, each filled with flowers. Dogwoods, pear trees, even a few oak trees and palms. Others she couldn’t identify. Her eyes scanned the vegetation. Plants of all varieties grew beneath the trees, their perfume filling the air. The bright blue, yellow, and orange blossoms painted a picture of pure beauty.

  In the distance, she heard music. Soft and beautiful.

  A waltz.

  Music, the way to her soul. Only this was different. Her body didn’t sway to the beat, for this was the melody of sadness. Deep, heartbreaking sadness.

  “Dance with me.”

  She started at the sound of the masculine voice and whirled around. Amunkha stood behind her, watching her. His strawberry blonde hair hung loose, his eyes warm and brown, his expression filled with sorrow.

  “What’s happening? Where am I?” She was startled, but surprised she did not fear him.

  “My apologies, Tamara.” He bowed to her. “I needed to speak with you. This,” he motioned to encompass the garden, “was the only way I could reach you.”

  “What makes you think I’ll listen to anything you have to say?” Tamara examined him through narrowed eyes. She opened her mind to touch his emotions. The typical shiver of evil Amunkha normally aroused was gone and, in its place, was warmth and sadness.

  Could he hide his true nature in a dream?

  He took a step forward, and she stood, putting the bench between them.

  “I am sorry. I do not mean to frighten you. My brother is a lucky man.” She hadn’t expected such a soft voice. He gave her a sad smile, and the music faded. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were the only one who could help me. First, let me explain. This,” he said, motioning with both arms toward the plants, “is inside my head. It is the only place I have been safe for many years, the only place I can find peace. He doesn’t know about it, doesn’t realize this is how I have kept my sanity, deep inside my own imagination.”

  “He? Ramose?”

  “No,” he replied softly. “Not Ramose, though he doesn’t know either.” His voice strengthened. “You may know him as Set, God of Chaos.” He motioned to the bench. “If you won’t dance, please sit, let me explain.”

  When she hesitated, he added, “I promise, I mean you no harm. I need your help, and there is not much time.”

  Warily, she circled the bench and sat at the end, expecting, yet fearing he would sit beside her. She was surprised when he remained standing. Maybe he sensed her discomfort.

  He plucked a flower, inhaled the sweet floral scent. He looked so innocent, almost like a boy, lost in a beautiful fragrance. He turned his head, a smile on his lips, one that couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes. “I have always loved gardening. That’s why I created this place. It’s a mix of flowers and trees from our home world, combined with those from yours. Beautiful, are they not?”

  She nodded, not letting her gaze follow his, instead, keeping her eyes on him. “What is it you want from me?”

  “Now that you are here, it is hard to know where to begin. I have only had one other visitor in my dreams, and she was so terrified she would not speak with me.” Pain flashed through his eyes. “It seems strange to have you here now.”

  “Why not start at the beginning?”

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on hers. “Very well.” He took a deep breath, moving to the bench to sit on the opposite end, careful not to touch her. He dragged his hands through his hair.

  “I’m sure Ramose has already told you of our arrival on your world, how we got here and our origins?” At her nod, he continued on. “Shortly after the crash, I was out foraging for food. It was scarce out in the desert, and many of our people were injured and dying. I needed to do something useful. I knew without food, we would all die, so I began to hunt. I searched for hours, finding nothing edible, when suddenly the sand collapsed beneath me. I hit hard, stunned, but not actually hurt. I’d landed in a small dark cavern, the only light coming from the hole I’d fallen through.

  “I had no idea where I was at first. Then I saw what appeared to be a tomb. I hoped there would be food, as many ancient cultures on our world had left foodstuffs with the bodies of their loved ones for use in the afterlife. I grabbed a jar I saw and opened it.” Pain flashed through his eyes again, a deep foreboding sadness.

  “Too late, a dark gas poured from the top. It rushed into my lungs, and my body felt ripped apart. I thought my head would explode from the pressure. My surroundings spun, and all went black. It was not poison in the jar. It was a spirit. I was never alone after that moment. It was the last time I had full control of my body.”

  Tamara stared at him, uncomprehending.

  “You opened a canopic jar?”

  He nodded.

  Canopic jars were not filled with food, but with the organs of the dead, removed during the mummification process. But there was no way a simple liver or heart could cause the reaction he described.

  “Are you saying you are possessed?” Her dream heart pounded with fear. It couldn’t be possible, could it?

  He nodded, averting his eyes. “With an evil spirit.” He gave an exhausted sigh, his shoulders sagging as though the world’s evil rested upon his shoulders.

  “In the beginning, I did not understand what happened, nor did I understand why I was losing time and experiencing black outs. Our people were suddenly afraid and avoided me. Gradually, the spirit inside took over more and more. Eventually, I could see what he did, but could not stop him. With every person he murdered, the stronger he became. I have battled him for years, trying with everything inside me to rid myself of this being. As you can guess, I have been unsuccessful.” He sat silently, waiting to see if she believed.

  Memories flashed through her mind. Instances when Amunkha hadn’t seemed quite so vicious. The comments he made in the restaurant in the hotel, when his eyes had changed color. It was all beginning to make some kind of weird sense. Ramose’s brother wasn’t malevolent after all, though he was being used for evil.

  “You believe me,” he whispered, his voice filled with hope.

  Tamara swallowed the knot lodged in her throat. The possibilities this dream presented were both frightening and exciting.

  “Yes, I believe you.” She hesitated. “But what do you need from me?”

  Music began again, poignant in its sadness. He stood from the bench. “Dance with me? I have so wanted to dance with someone for so long. I do adore music.” He held his hand out to her, palm up.

  Tamara hesitated. If she touched him, even in this dream world, would she know if he was telling the truth? Could the evil within him change places? She met the chocolate brown eyes and lifted her hand to his. His fingers closed about hers, and she bit back the instant of panic, breathing through her mouth to ease the sudden pounding of her heart.

  He pulled her to her feet and twirled her about. He seemed almost delicate in comparison to Ramose, but he held her in firm arms as he guided her across the grass. After a few moments, he continued his story.

  “I grow weaker with every passing year. Once I understood the full impact of what was happening, I sometimes interfered, working against him, distracting him enough to allow the escape of those he threatened. But those opportunities grow more and more rare. For centuries, I have been forced to sit back and watch the atrocities he commits against those I love, against innocent men and women. He’s fascinated with death and pain. He feeds off their fear. Total chaos reigns everywhere he goes. Each death makes him stronger and makes me weaker.”

  “And he’s Set, God of Chaos? He’s the one inside of you?”

  He nodded. “It’s who he thinks he is. I do not know for sure if it’s him, or an evil spirit pretender. One thing I know is he wants to kill Ramose, and I cannot allow that.” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “I need you to help me. I need you to kill me.”

  She stepped on his toes in surprise.

  “Kill you?” Her voice broke. No. She couldn’t kill
him! He was Ramose’s brother. And especially not now that she knew it wasn’t him doing the killing, but Set.

  “It is time. I can no longer keep my sanity, hiding in a garden in my mind. I have fought to keep Ramose alive, but I know I can no longer do either. Set has grown too powerful.”

  She shook her head, horror washing through her. “I can’t kill you. Ramose would never forgive me! You’re his brother. No matter what’s happened, he loves you. I’ll tell him what’s happening. Together, we can—”

  “No. You have to do this. There is no other option,” he corrected. “Ramose could never do so. He’s had ample opportunity over time, and always he fails. I think he wishes to fail. And, if anyone else did, he would never be able to forgive them, anger would eat away at him, destroy him.

  “You are the only one, as his Kha-Ib who can do this. You are the only one he will forgive and love. He would not blame you because you are the heart of his soul.”

  Her head continued to shake. She heard all he said, but refused to allow it to sink in. She could not kill him, she couldn’t!

  “I can’t do this.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can’t kill anyone. I can’t kill you.”

  “Please,” he begged. “Without this, Ramose will die. He is my brother, but I can no longer protect him. He has you to help him get through this. Please help me to save him.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. Amunkha looked so young, so innocent. Not a man to be feared, but a man to be protected. It was hard to believe this man had held a knife to her, that he’d stabbed her in the stomach.

  “How can I destroy a man who has suffered as much as you have? How could I live with myself? There must be another way.”

  “You are the only one who can do this. You must do this. Unless…”

  He hesitated.

  “Unless what?” Hope filled her heart. There had to be another way. There must be another way.