Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis (17 page)

She lay still, concentrating on
regulating her breathing. Finally, when she felt a yawn tearing at
her clenched jaw muscles, KNEW she couldn’t hold it back, she
rolled onto her side, burying her face in the pillow in the hope
that he wouldn’t hear her … because if he heard her yawning he’d
know damn well she hadn’t been asleep any of the time.

He didn’t move.

Alexis felt like screaming in
frustration.

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.