Atlantean's Quest Volume 1 Read online

  * * * * *

  Eros smiled. He knew his eyes were as glazed over as hers. He stuck out his tongue. Only then did he see surprise register on Rachel’s flushed face. Eros watched emotion flash in her eyes as memories from that night in her tent flooded her mind. Her right nipple beaded instantly.

  He swirled his tongue around the kernelled flesh a couple times, refusing to break eye contact with Rachel. Her breathing deepened and she closed her eyes. Eros took that moment to finish the piercing. One quick snap and it was done. She was officially claimed in the eyes of the Atlantean people. He stood. The heat flowing from his hands intensified and the wounds healed before his eyes, along with cleansing her body of the dirt and sweat that had accumulated.

  Rachel looked up into his face, stunned, unable to move. He knew she had never imagined being pierced anywhere but her ears. She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but her thoughts were clear. The rings made her feel sexy, dangerous and more than a little naughty. She watched him pick up the bowl and raise the paintbrush to each nipple, leaving red dye in its place.

  The bristles stroked and tickled. Eros swished the brush back and forth. He wanted to tease her, to brush away the fear she’d been feeling only moments ago. He could smell the feminine musk as her body moistened for him and it was nearly driving him out of his mind.

  She swallowed hard and squeezed her thighs together. Eros read her thoughts. In another minute or two, she’d end up attacking him if he didn’t stop. Part of him longed to keep going. He wanted to see Rachel out of control, feel her body rubbing against his, know the sensation of sinking balls deep inside of her. He trembled and stepped back. Eros dropped the brush into the dye and pulled his knife from its sheath. He raised the blade to Rachel’s waist, then lowered the knife to her pubic bone.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel backed away. “It’s one thing to pierce my nipples, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near me with that knife. I know all about female circumcision, so you can forget it.”

  * * * * *

  Eros laughed heartily. The deep rumbling sound washed over her like the spray from a waterfall. His eyes sparkled as he wiped his hand across his face to smooth his expression. “The blade is not for piercing or cutting, ‘tis for shaving.”

  Rachel’s body throbbed with need. Just the thought of his hands on her, shaving her bare was enough to almost send her over the edge. The intimacy of the act was on par with a man painting her toenails, although she’d yet to experience that luxury. She felt like a mass of electrified nerve endings, reaching out to make contact with the one being that could ground them. The rings on her nipples felt cool against her heated skin.

  He closed the distance between them and carefully brought the blade to her mound. “Don’t move,” he said.

  With the first scrape of the cool steel across her sensitive skin, Rachel’s nether lips became drenched in her own juices. Each stroke of the razor’s sharp edge was erotic and intoxicating. Her clit began to swell and pulse, until Rachel was incapable of anything more than animalistic moans.

  Eros sliced over her tuft-covered skin once more and Rachel’s knees buckled. He held her firm in his arms, pressing her into his side until he’d completed his task, then sheathed his knife. He lifted up a corner of her skirt, sliding one hand beneath, scraping his short nails across her hip.

  Rachel shuddered. Her body felt as if it would fly apart in a million pieces. Eros placed his hand upon her abdomen. The same intense heat that she’d felt earlier seemed to concentrate its energy on her womb, then lower still. Her body convulsed, as an orgasm hit that literally knocked her off her feet.

  * * * * *

  Eros sat on the floor and pulled Rachel onto his lap. He ran a fingertip along her slit. Wetness covered him as he sought out her pleasure center. He massaged his way up and down her outer lips, teasing her, drawing out her satisfaction. One finger slipped inside her tight opening. She felt like heaven on Earth.

  His cock throbbed and pulsed under the loincloth. He grit his teeth and continued finger fucking her. Rachel’s eyes closed and her body trembled. He pulled his wet finger out and circled her clit. She moaned. He looped around and around until her breath came out in panting gasps.

  Her body’s tremors started once more from deep inside and radiated out. He kept up the lazy motions, leaning down to cover her mouth with his, hungry, wanting, and needing much more.

  Eros captured her scream as Rachel came once again. Her body swayed with the force of her second orgasm. He kissed her deeply, pulling her into his chest, probing the recesses of her mouth with his seeking tongue. She tasted of the sweetest honey, the tangiest nectar, and she was his…all his.

  Eros had promised her pleasure and he was determined to deliver. He kissed her senseless.

  Eros, the god of love.

  He caught the thought as it slipped through her mind. “I’m not god,” he said, pulling back from the kiss.

  “Stop that.” She pushed against his muscled chest, trying to free herself from his lap. “I don’t know how you’re doing that, but I want you to stop right now.”

  Eros reluctantly released her. “Sorry, tis not possible.”

  * * * * *

  His eyes were glazed and his hard-on was mouth-wateringly enormous. Rachel felt an instant pang of regret. She missed the warmth of being held in his arms. The comfort of his touch. It was nice and made her feel safe. What was she thinking? She didn’t need this. She didn’t need him. She had a life, an apartment—a job waiting for her back in New York. It’d be for the best if she tried to remember that when he was kissing her senseless. Jac and Brigit were probably worried sick.

  And why in the hell had she let him pierce her nipples?

  So, she might not have had much of a choice in that decision, but she could’ve put up more of a fight. Rachel stood and walked to the other side of the hut, hoping that the little space would clear her jumbled thoughts. “I think we need to go over some ground rules. I don’t want you getting the idea, just because I let you…let you…”

  “Pleasure you?” He raised a wicked eyebrow.

  “Why did you,” she paused searching for the right words, “do all this?”

  “To prepare you for the mating ceremony.”

  Her stomach dropped. He hadn’t done it because he wanted to. He’d done it out of some kind of duty to his tribe. She should’ve known. Instead, she’d gotten caught up in her own fantasies and now her wishful thinking was coming back to bite her. Why his reasons mattered to her, Rachel didn’t know, but they did. “What does a mating ceremony entail and who exactly is my intended? Do I even get to meet him beforehand?” She wasn’t about to just go along with this whole thing. She had to figure out a way to convince Eros.

  “There are various steps,” he said vaguely.

  Rachel pushed her hair away from her face and began nervously twisting the strands into a bun. She always wore her hair up when she had a serious meeting at work to attend. It made her feel confident, professional—and she needed all those traits now.

  She blew out an unsteady breath. “Eros, I told you the tribe is making a mistake. I’m no Queen. I’m not a Princess. I’m not even a native New Yorker.” Rachel dropped her hair and began kneading her palms. “I’m just plain ol’ Dr. Rachel Evans from Salem, Massachusetts. And the first chance I get, I will be returning home. I appreciate that you saved me and I’ll try to figure out a way to pay you back, but I cannot stay.”

  Eros followed her with his eyes, patiently listening. “That was your old existence,” he said, folding his arms over his broad chest. “Here you are Queen to the people of Atlantis.”

  Her brain screeched to a halt. “Atlantis? Did you say Atlantis?”

  He nodded.

  Rachel laughed. “Oh sure. Yeah. It’s obvious now that you mention it,” she said in a let’s-soothe-the-man-who-forgot-to-take-his-medication-way. “I’m Queen,” she pointed to herself, “and you’re from the fabled city of Atlantis. Oh look, there go
es a sea horse.” She pointed at nothing and wiggled her finger. Rachel shook her head and began to pace. After a few steps, another nervous giggle escaped her throat. “Just my luck, I meet a gorgeous guy and he’s crazy.”

  Eros frowned. “I speak the truth.”

  “I realize you believe that what you’re saying to me is the truth.” She stopped and raised her hands. “But it’s crazy, not to mention impossible, since Atlantis has never been proven to exist. And if it did, it sank somewhere in the Mediterranean. Have you seen a sea around here? I haven’t.” Her voice rose as hysterics threatened. “The only thing that makes sense right now is that I have malaria or some other fever-inducing malady. I’m probably lying in a cot somewhere and I’ve made you, and everything else, up.”

  “I assure you that I am very real. You will understand soon,” he smiled, “once the mating ceremony is complete and my seed is planted deep within your womb.” Eros began clearing the dye and brush off the table. He returned them to the compartment hidden in the side of the wall. Rachel glimpsed tools and other instruments, before he stepped away, closing the case behind him.

  “So you’re to be my mate or are you just a donor?” she asked. Depending on the customs of the tribe, he could be either. Highly respected members of certain tribes could perform various duties, including marriage preparation and impregnation. Was that why Eros had brought her to his hut?

  Eros watched her, his blue eyes stormy. “I am your mate,” he said with a certainty that shook her to her core. “The ceremony is simply a formality.”

  Rachel ignored the wave of relief she felt, instead focusing on what he wasn’t telling her. She might not be able to read minds, but he was definitely something out. She had to put a stop to this. It was madness. “There isn’t going to be a mating ceremony or planting of any seed. I’m not a farmer’s field or a brood mare. Where I’m from people don’t usually mate to have babies, unless they’re married. And seeing as though we’re not wed in the eyes of New York state law, this conversation is mute.”

  “We agree. That is something.”

  “Ooogh, are you trying to piss me off?” Rachel balled her hands into tight fists, but resisted the urge to slug the big jerk. She figured if she hit him, the only person who’d get hurt would be her. Besides, he was mentally unstable. She should humor him.

  Eros stepped forward. He looked as if he were going to touch her, but stopped short. “I’m not trying to upset you, my Queen, although I seem to be successful in that respect. I can only speak the truth.”

  Rachel covered his mouth with her hand, trying to quiet him long enough for her to think things through. He kissed her palm, flicking his tongue at its center. She quickly pulled away. The skin still tingled where his lips had touched. “Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that I’m Queen, then who is King?”

  “I would think that is obvious.” Eros smiled slowly, an erotically carnal action that caused the proverbial curling of her toes. “I am.” He kissed her forehead, then walked out of the hut.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Ten

  A queer sensation twisted in Rachel’s belly, and she was rendered speechless. Confusing emotions and thoughts swirled through her, all fighting one another for attention.

  He’d said she’d been chosen by the tribe to mate with him, but that was ridiculous. How could she be? They didn’t even know that she existed until a few days ago. The dreams she’d been having while she was in New York popped into her mind. It wasn’t possible. Those were just dreams. Fantasies. The desperate urges of a celibate woman’s subconscious. They weren’t real. Rachel recalled the feel of Eros against her body. She wished that the thought of having sex with him was unappealing, but ever since she’d laid eyes on him, saying that would have been a bald-faced lie.

  If she’d met Eros in New York she’d probably have thrown herself at him and begged the big oaf to fuck her silly, until she couldn’t walk the next day. And that was saying a lot coming from a girl that had been celibate for the last two years. She wasn’t a woman driven by her baser instincts. That’s why her reaction to Eros was all the more confusing.

  She looked down at her nipples, bright red with dye, complete with glittering gold rings. Considering what a god Eros was, she’d probably have let him pierce her in New York, too. Hell, she’d probably have allowed him to tattoo his name across her forehead.

  Rachel rolled her eyes as her thoughts turned to Eros and his people. They were uncannily beautiful, almost astonishing in their physical perfection. Rachel glanced down at her body. She wasn’t even going to go there right now. Looks aside, that didn’t mean they were Atlanteans.

  It wasn’t unheard of that an isolated tribe could develop skills that to outsiders might seem remarkable. If these people had developed a form of telepathic language that could be testable, then that made them not only unique, but also valuable to every government agency on the planet. She tried not to think about the implications, but it was too late. Rachel knew if word of Eros and his tribe got out that they’d be rounded up, separated, and imprisoned for testing. They’d be too valuable to be allowed to roam free. She pushed the horrifying thought aside, since she wasn’t entirely convinced that his abilities were real. There were other possibilities that could explain Eros’s gifts. Until she ruled them out, she couldn’t say for certainty that they were real. As for generating energy from his hands, healers around the world claimed to have the same abilities. Rachel sighed. She walked over to the bed of furs and plopped down. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  What if the lost civilization of Atlantis existed and ended up on the other side of the world? Not that she lent the thought any credence. How could that have happened?

  So many theories existed about Atlanteans. One popular hypothesis was that it had sunk due to a volcanic eruption equivalent to the disaster in Pompeii. Another researcher found what he thought was proof of a giant tidal wave. Yet another believed Atlanteans originated from the area of the Bermuda Triangle. There were as many theories as there were researchers.

  The most radical of the bunch of theorists was a professor of ancient civilizations. His hypothesis stated that Atlanteans developed a society so advanced that their technological expertise destroyed them. Rachel thought about the atomic bomb. Wouldn’t be the first time a society did that and it sure wouldn’t be the last.

  Rachel decided that once she returned to the museum she’d dedicate some time to reading the research papers that had been written on the subject. She wouldn’t make an announcement until she was sure.

  If these people really were Atlanteans, this would be the discovery of a lifetime.

  Society could benefit from their knowledge. Rachel would be recognized in all the anthropological journals, receive book deals, do the talk show circuit—the sky was the limit. Professor Donald could then slither back under the rock from which he came.

  She had to think of a way out of here. Maybe if she left tonight she’d be able to get out of the tree without her fear of heights kicking in. It would be dark, so she wouldn’t see the steep drop. Rachel swallowed the burst of fear and reaffirmed her decision. She would wait until the tribe had gone to sleep, then she would make her escape.

  Rachel wondered where Eros had gone. Would he be sleeping with one of his many women tonight? The thought chafed her more than she’d like to admit. He’d better not be fucking someone else, not if he expected to become her mate.

  What was she saying?

  There would be no mating ceremony, no coronation—no nothing. She was out of here in a couple of hours. What Eros did was no concern of hers.

  Hours passed and the village quieted. Rachel threw back the hide covering the door and peeked out. Fear and panic gripped at her insides like a living entity trying to pull her back. No one stirred in the surrounding huts. The moon would be full by tomorrow night, so it would be fairly easy to find her way out of the encampment. After that, she’d just have to stumble her way through the jungle and hop
e like hell she made it. She glanced around once more.

  Eros was nowhere to be seen.

  He’s probably in bed with some slut. She ignored the instant stab of pain. She couldn’t be jealous. Refused to be. She hadn’t known him long enough to get attached.

  Rachel walked back into the hut, donned her pants and T-shirt and retrieved her cell phone. She pocketed the phone and reluctantly dropped the beautiful skirt on the hides, before heading out the door. Her nipple rings felt strange against her bra, but not altogether unpleasant.

  Talk about your souvenirs.

  Before leaving, she tucked the tool Eros had used to pierce her inside one of her pockets. It was unique enough to prove that she’d actually been in an Atlantean society, or at the very least, around a previously undiscovered tribe.

  The moon cast ominous shadows on the jungle floor. Walking along the outside of the hut, she kept her back against the wall until she reached the corner of the building. Several vines hung from the trees in a mess of tangles. Rachel fought back the queasiness that threatened to empty her stomach’s contents.

  It’s now or never.

  Rachel reached out and grabbed a vine, pulling on it firmly to ensure the rope like growth would hold her weight. She looked over her shoulder once more, but there was no movement. No sign that she was being watched. She blew out a steadying breath.

  Exactly like gym class. Just don’t look down.

  Stifling a scream, Rachel swung onto the vine and slid down as silently as possible. The rope slithered between her thighs, rubbing her clit through her pants. The gold rings on her nipples brushed her T-shirt, sending erotic sensations coursing through her body. She clamped her lips together to keep from groaning.

  A second later, Rachel’s booted feet hit the ground. She released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, then let go of the vine. Rachel lunged for the shadows, her body hugging the tree. There was still no sign of any disturbance. A voice niggled at the back of her mind, telling her it was too easy, but she ignored it.