Naughty Bits 2 (10 page)

“Where is the nobility in this?” he asked her. “Where is the royalty of the goddess?”

At this, Tia's passion seemed to quiet down. The flame became a steady glow, and she felt her womanly power flowing within her like the waters of the great river, calm yet powerful. She knew he would be hers. She knew he could not refuse her.

“Come with me,” she said. She took his hand and led him into the small bedchamber behind the statue of Astarte. She lowered the curtain, so that all the light they had came from one oil lamp and the moonlight that shone through the open window. In the starry silence she untied her sash and let the gown whisper to the floor and stood before Nekhet in all her naked excitement.

Her hips were generous, her thighs lean and her breasts rich and heavy, round like ripe fruit. But it was the way she trembled when she pressed her nakedness against him that
made his blood rush hot in his body. He had seen deer tremble like that at the end of the hunt, when they knew their hour was up. It was her total surrender and it inflamed him.

“My lord, my lord,” she whispered as he laid her down on the bed. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, her belly, as she writhed beneath him, tugging at his skirt, her fingers anxious and confused and shaking with need. He stood and removed what clothes he wore, and Tia gasped when she saw his cock, even bigger and harder now than when she'd had him in her mouth, and more commanding now that he was naked.

She spread her legs; she spread her arms. She lay back against the cushions, her breasts heaving with her heavy breathing. She could feel the tickle of her own arousal creeping from her opening and she felt all liquid inside. She could feel the night upon her skin and the goddess moving through her flesh—the need, the hunger to be pierced and impaled and possessed.

Nekhet looked down at her and felt the surge of her excitement, as well. Perhaps she was possessed. She certainly seemed to be: she was the very incarnation of womanly passion. He realized now that this was not a goddess like the deities he knew, the
neter
of Egypt. This was a goddess who embodied all the qualities of human women, all that was divine and powerful about them: their beauty and their desire, their ability to weaken a man and make a slave of him. He felt her need for his hardness inside her. He looked down at her and marveled at the power in that frail body. She was so much like him, and yet so utterly different.

Tia watched and trembled as he climbed between her thighs, and she scrambled to get herself into position in the shadow of his covering body. He reached for his prick, but she was already ahead of him, and she took him in her small hand and guided him anxiously to her opening, her palm feverishly hot. She took him and rubbed the head of his cock salaciously up and down her moist slit, getting herself ready
for him, gasping and whimpering with pleasure and impatience. Once she had him in place, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him inside with her legs and her arms, trembling as if she were a warrior impaling herself on her own sword.

They both cried out as he entered her and pushed her flesh aside as the prow of a boat cuts through the face of the waters—his a deep groan of pleasure and relief, hers a sharp cry of urgent fulfillment, loud enough to be heard in the gatehouse. It had been years since her one experience, and Tia was like a virgin again, was a virgin, in fact, when it came to making love, her one other session having been so short and hurried. Now she had time to feel his hardness going into her, stretching her open with his implacable masculine force, filling her aching emptiness with the heat and strength of his body. He touched her deep, touched her where her heart hammered in her chest, and it was better than water to a raging thirst. And, as if it were water, she lay there luxuriating in the feel of him, letting his hardness fill her.

She was certain the goddess had taken her. Certainly nothing had ever felt as divine, and what made it so good was that she was hardly herself. She had no thoughts for her dignity, her reputation, for what he would think of her when this was over. She was the incarnation of Astarte and not responsible for what she did, and so she was free—free to experience the glorious sensation of his godly prick inside her belly, the potency of this strong body on top of hers.

Nekhet twisted about, stirring his cock around inside her, and Tia responded with a loud gasp of pleasure. It hurt a bit, but wonderfully so, his cock so alive, filled with his divine essence, the semen of the son of the God-King. Excitement overtook her and she dug her heels into the bed and thrust up at him, lifting him from the bed in her sudden urge for more sensation.

“By all the gods!” he moaned as he felt her tight sheath slide
over him. The girl had the strength of a lioness. She gripped him inside and squeezed him, reached for his mouth with hers and pulled his head down to her kiss. Nekhet got his knees under him and hung there suspended like the sky god, Shu, as Tia's cunt reached to engulf him again and again in feverish spasms of pure lust. There was little he could do but kneel there over her as she serviced him, her pussy drawing at him like a wet silky fist, pulling the come from his balls, urging it out, begging for it.

His thumbs found the spiky buds of her nipples and caressed them, making Tia whine in her throat like an eager puppy at her master's call. The speed of her hips increased so that the legs of the bed began to bang against the tiled floor, and Nekhet realized that this was no normal girl. He looked down at her face, clenched in erotic concentration, her fine features screwed into a mask of passionate lust, her lips swollen and parted, her breath hissing through her white teeth. He stared at her face and thought he had never seen a woman so beautiful, so transported by erotic pleasure. And then Tia opened her eyes and looked back at him.

Those eyes were sightless, dilated, seeing not him but something inside or beyond him, seeing through him and into the core of his masculine soul. It was the way the earth goddess, Geb, must have looked at Shu when he covered her and filled her with his semen, bringing forth the myriad forms of life that graced the earth. It was the look of the moon when it broke through the clouds. It was the look of the warrior with his sword held high when the enemy was in flight. It was the look of triumph in surrender, of feminine victory, and it seemed to draw him up out of himself when he felt his orgasm start, the tides of her body pulling the seed from him, from his very depths.

He was like a god reversed; the head of a man with a man's tenderness and awe for her beauty, but an animal below as he
fucked her savagely with the strength of a bull, spearing her deep, sending his cock into her depths, out of control in his need to possess her. And Tia now gave up her role as seductress and surrendered to his assault, flinging her legs wide and letting him use her for his pleasure.

Nekhet had a moment to rise up on his strong arms and arch his back into her as Tia writhed beneath him, her nails like the claws of a lioness dug into the clenched muscles of his ass, pulling him tight and deep, and then Nekhet exploded into her with the brilliance of a sunrise flooding the darkness with its glorious light.

His body froze with the force of his release and his semen jetted into her. He cried out in surprise at the intensity of his pleasure and his feeling of triumph as his prick spit inside her like some striking cobra, pouring his essence and his relief into her eagerly accepting body.

And Tia, feeling her lover orgasm inside her, seeing the look of awestruck rapture on his face and hearing his cry of male triumph, felt released of any last constraint. She had done the goddess's work and she felt the divinity inside her reveling in Nekhet's hot ejaculation, taking it up and bathing in it, drinking it into her. Her triumph filled Tia with a blazing joy and lifted her up, up into the air, into the realm of the gods, into a high place filled with light, and then Astarte let Tia go, let her fall into her own sea of physical pleasure, and Tia fell until she shattered into a thousand shards of liquid ecstasy, her body trembling as her pussy continued to suck his victorious cock and she knew no more than the animal joy of being alive.

A stillness took them as they lay entwined on the sweat-soaked sheets and they trembled like flowers of the field caught in the wind. The moon rode through the mansions of the night as Tia felt her desire blossom again, and Nekhet raised himself on one arm to stare into her face. “Who are you?” he asked her again.

On her hands and knees she took him next, during the very darkest hours of the night, the hour of the ape, with her back curved down, her breasts hanging beneath her and swaying with the force of her lover's thrusts, her black hair curtaining her face, just as Seth had taken Horus in the swamp as they struggled for dominance before the gods, with Nekhet's prick deep in her own swamp between her legs. Every time he touched her, every time his lips brushed hers or sought out the smoothness of her skin, Tia felt as though she'd been lashed with whips of pure pleasure, and the tears dried on her cheeks and were wet with fresh ones as the night proceeded—tears of joy, tears of a physical and spiritual pleasure almost too intense to bear.

At some time near the awful hour of the jackal her prince left her and stole away, back to where his barge floated idly in the river, the bargemen all asleep hours before. He cast off and they drifted downriver as Tia drifted on rivers of her own, asleep and alone in her empty bed. She didn't awaken till Ra in the holy barque was well into the sky, now as Khepri, the sacred scarab, rolling the ball of godlike light through the dome of the heavens.

It was Kheneb who finally woke her, gently, his eyes wide with wonder. Illana stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at Tia with fear and concern in her eyes, wearing the long heavy dress of her native country, the goddess's homeland.

“Tia, Tia!” Kheneb whispered, barely concealing the excitement in his voice, “What happened last night? What did you say to him?”

“Hush,” Lady Illana admonished. “She is not allowed to tell, nor are you permitted to ask! Such effrontery!”

Tia rolled over onto her elbow and stared about the room, now bright with sun. She was deliciously sore between her legs. Her hair was a mess and her lips felt tender and bruised, but wonderfully slaked and satisfied. She didn't know what to say, especially to her elder brother, but she could see that Illana
already knew, and that Illana would tell him in a language he could understand.

“Prince Nekhet has endowed the temple,” Kheneb said eagerly. “He has sworn to pay for the entire thing himself! There is to be a fine dedication, for which he is also paying. His messenger was just here—whatever did you say to him last night?”

Tia sat up, holding the sheet against her breasts, and gratefully took the jar of water that Illana held out for her.

“Never mind that now,” Lady Illana said. “The prince is coming back tonight. We must prepare you. It is already late. And you are the only one he will talk to about the new arrangements.”

Through the doorway Tia could see the image of the goddess, her arms raised, holding the snakes, her symbols of power, showing how she connected the earth and the sky, the world of the spirit and the world Tia lived in.

Tia only raised the water to her lips and felt her heart rise with it. She said a silent thanks to the Great Lady, and drank.

L
ILLIAN
F
EISTY

MÉNAGE.

The word played in Chloe's head as she wound her way through the crowded Vegas bar. Two men, seated at a small table on the other side of the room, watched her.

Her skin heated as she maneuvered toward them, dodging her way through tourists high on that entrancing Vegas vibe. Even though she'd lived here for more than five years, she could still soak up that untamed energy; an energy that had her considering something totally mysterious, unfamiliar. Forbidden.

A shiver raced up her spine.

Just a few feet away from her now. One was tall, with shaggy blond hair and bright blue eyes. The other was fair skinned and dark haired. Both were as breathtakingly handsome as she remembered.

Ménage
. That was why she was here, wasn't it? Though they'd never come right out and discussed it, ever since she'd met the two chefs six months ago at an annual culinary conference there'd been an erotic undercurrent running through all their communication.

Sexy innuendos, playful at first, now hung in the air. Suggestive. Tantalizing. Irresistible.

And now this. If she desired, she could have them. She could live out her fantasy. Experience a ménage à trois.

If
she desired. Her body's response left no doubt as to what she wanted. As she walked, her pussy throbbed at the very idea of sharing a bed with Joe and Walker. Fucking them both. Simultaneously.

God, she was wet.

From the moment Walker had e-mailed her that they were coming to Vegas, she couldn't stop thinking about
it
, couldn't stop the fantasies from slamming into her head, couldn't stop her body's response to the erotic scenes playing out in her mind.

She'd masturbated every night this week, imagining what it would be like to have two men make love to her. Have
these
two men use her for their pleasure.

And now they were here. It was real, and every nerve in her body tingled with edgy anticipation.

“Chloe!” Joe was on his feet, pulling her against his lean form in a big hug. “How are you?”

She'd forgotten how comforting his voice was. She looked up into his soft green eyes and relaxed, just a bit. “Good! I'm good.” She breathed him in. It had been over a year since she'd stood this close to a man, felt the heat from a male body mingle with her own.

It was ironic, really. She had twenty—mostly male—employees underneath her. But her position as head chef at a top Las Vegas restaurant required her to keep a solid distance from her subordinates—to always be on guard, and most importantly, to have a big ol' pair of cojones.

Chloe remained in Joe's embrace until he released her. Walker stepped forward. Her pulse jumped. Nothing had changed since she'd first caught sight of the tall blond with the surfer's body all those months ago. Just being next to him sent a flurry of excitement through her belly.

She was attracted to Joe, but there was something about
Walker that caused her heart to skip beats. It wasn't just his looks. Six months of online communication had revealed a caring personality and a sharp wit that drew her to him.

“Hey, Chloe.” He pulled her to his chest and then leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. His voice was raspier than she recalled, darker. “You look fantastic.”

Her pulse quickened as his warm breath caressed her ear. God, what was wrong with her? She shouldn't be reacting like this to the simple sound of his voice.

Fiddling with a strand of her hair, she tried to calm herself. “Thanks. You, too. You, um, look good.”
Relax!

“Here.” Pulling a chair out for her, he swept his hand over the seat in a large theatrical gesture.

“Thanks,” she said, grinning.

Joe leaned across the table, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “What can I get you to drink?”

“A cosmo, thanks.” She couldn't keep her eyes off them. Six months was a long time, long enough to forget how straight Walker's nose was, or the way Joe's hair fell charmingly over his left eye. The way being around them made her feel so feminine and sexy.

A flutter of excitement flashed through her chest. She couldn't believe Joe and Walker were actually
here
. In Vegas, sitting a few feet away from her. Was she really going through with this?

Yes
. Her nipples tingled as every nerve in her body responded to the silent question.

Yes!
For some reason she wanted to scream the word as loud as she could. She wanted to slam her hands on the table and announce to the crowd of strangers that these men were here for
her
. Chloe O'Malley, the chick who had not had sex in over a year. She wanted it known that she fully intended to get it on with these
two
men later that night.

Instead, she straightened the hem of her new black dress and
took a deep, steadying breath. Okay, so she was going a tad crazy. Where was her cocktail, anyway?

Walker seemed to be biting back a grin. “You okay, Chloe? Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I had dinner earlier. Um, just leftovers but, no—I'm not hungry. Not now. Thank you.” She closed her eyes. Why was she babbling?

She spoke online with these two men almost daily. They knew things about her no one else did. But to have them actually here, where they could
see her
, was so much different. All safety through anonymity was gone. Risky.

Isn't that what you wanted? To take a risk?

“Here you go.” A waitress in a feather ensemble placed a Vegas-size cocktail on the table before her.

“Thank you.” Chloe brought the oversize glass to her lips and took a sip of the syrupy red liquid. It wasn't a proper cosmopolitan—it was too sweet. But she was thankful for the chilly drink and hoped it would help take the edge off.

She looked up to find Joe and Walker staring at her and suddenly she realized it would take a lot more than a sip of alcohol to calm her nerves. And surprisingly, she discovered there was a part of her that was enjoying the slight rush of adrenaline thrumming through her veins.

She lifted her chin. “What?”

Walker glanced to Joe. “She's nervous.”

Joe nodded. “Yup.”

She shook her head and waved her hand at them as if to say,
oh, stop!
But her shaky fingers belied her protest.

Walker took her trembling hand in his dry, warm palm. “It's just us.”

Just us.
Her gaze shot between the men, each looking at her like she was a delicious crème brûlée and they were ravenous for a sweet dessert.

“Just you!” A laugh burst out of her throat.

Joe grinned back. “Just two guys who think you're the smartest, wittiest, most lovely female on the planet.”

Coming from anyone else the statement would have sounded false, cheesy even, but she knew Joe meant it. Both he and Walker were true to their words, true to themselves.

When she'd met them at the conference in Dallas, it hadn't been obvious at first that the men were together. It had been the subtle things, like the way Walker looked at Joe when he placed a spoonful of béchamel sauce on the other man's tongue. The way they stood just a fraction too close together in the elevator. A definite sexual undertone was present in the men's interaction. However, she'd never been able to pinpoint the exact nature of their relationship. Joe had once said he didn't believe in monogamy. Walker hadn't taken a stance on the subject.

“You are, you know.”

She looked up to find Walker's gaze boring into hers. Her palms dampened even as desire shot through her. An intimacy passed between them and she was sure that, had she been standing, her knees would have buckled.

He didn't look away and she gave in. “What? What am I?”

“Gorgeous.”

Her face may have flushed, but she grinned and glanced toward Joe. “You guys aren't so bad yourselves.” Yes.
Calm down, you ninny!
She could do this playful banter. After all, they'd been talking this way for months.

And now they were here.

It was perfect. She'd have one night of sexual exploration to get this longing out of her system. Then they'd go home, and she'd go on with her life. If things went well maybe they'd do it again. After all, she'd see them again in six months at the annual conference. And she couldn't imagine it not going well. Not with these two.

She took a lingering drink of her sugary cocktail and smiled
to herself. Yes, this was the ideal situation. She'd learned the hard way that her schedule left no time for a traditional relationship. A naughty tryst a couple times a year was just what she needed.

A sense of excitement took flight in her chest, and when she looked up to discover Walker's direct gaze still on her, her breath caught. She wondered if Joe picked up on her strong reaction to his friend. She wondered if he would care.

Joe drained his beer and plunked the bottle onto the wooden table. “It's early yet. What's the plan for the evening?”

Her sex gave a clench at the question. An image from last night's fantasy popped into her head. A picture of herself, naked, in bed, lying on her side, squeezed between their two hot, smooth, solid bodies—

“Chloe?”

She gave a start. “Um, sorry. What were you saying?” She took another sip of her drink.
Get a grip!

Joe grinned. “I hear they have a nightclub right downstairs. You're a local, is it any good?”

She nodded. “Yes. I love House of Blues—what's wrong?” Walker was shaking his head at her, making a slicing motion with one finger across his neck.

Joe rolled his eyes. “He hates dancing. But it's two to one, right?”

“That's right. Two to one.” For some reason the words sent wicked goose bumps tingling up her arms.

Joe stood and extended his hand. “Shall we?”

She glanced over at Walker's unreadable expression then looked back at Joe. She nodded and gave him her hand. “Yes. Let's.”

 

Because Chloe was a local, her Nevada driver's license allowed them to bypass the long line of people waiting to shake their thing inside the House of Blues.

Once they passed through the entrance, the steady beat of a catchy tune lured them down into the heart of the club. Flanked by the men, she held their hands as they descended the wide staircase.

She looked sideways to Joe. “I'm so glad you thought of this! I haven't been dancing in forever.”

Joe just smiled as Walker grumbled something. They landed at a table on a platform overlooking the dance floor. At eleven o'clock things were just beginning to get started, and the club wasn't too crowded yet.

They each took a seat and Walker placed an order with the cocktail waitress. As they waited for their drinks to arrive, a fresh wave of excitement washed over her.

Drinks, dancing, and after that who knew what could happen? But one thing was for certain; she was more than ready to go with the flow. Every minute she spent in Joe's and Walker's presence elevated the anticipation thrumming through her veins, and she couldn't stop snippets of her fantasies from flitting through her head, keeping her on edge like a talented lover.

Joe took her hand in his tight grip and she gasped. “Wanna dance?” He grinned as if he knew what she'd been thinking.

She looked at Walker. “What about you? Are you coming?”

He shook his head. “I'll watch.”

Her pussy tightened. Such a simple statement, and yet…

She gave herself a mental shake. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Yes. You two go.”

This was a test, a challenge. She could see it in his sharp blue eyes. Well, she was ready for the trial. More than ready.

Two stairs down to the dance floor. Joe led her to a spot not too far from where Walker sat. She glanced up just in time to catch Walker's nod of consent. Interesting. But she couldn't dwell on the subtleties of the boys' dynamics, not when Joe was pulling her into a rhythm with him. Not when he was leading her with such command it melted her a little.

The music blurred together, one continuous pattern that freed her mind beat by beat. Joe never broke physical contact, even if it was just their fingers touching.

When a tall redhead got too close to him he subtly turned his back on her and pulled Chloe tighter. “You're the prettiest girl here. You know that, right?”

She smiled against his neck, soaking it all up.

Strong. She had to be for her job. Her position required total dominance. She needed to be stronger than the most overbearing man working for her.

Every day she covered her long brown hair in a handkerchief and dressed in unflattering chef's pants. She wore hideous black, nonslip shoes that felt heavy and awkward, masculine. She played her part, a role that made it too easy to forget she was still a woman.

She glanced at the black stilettos on her feet. She'd bought them just for tonight. The things were killing her, but they made her feel sexy, alluring.

Joe pulled back to look into her eyes. His expression was dead serious. “I'm not lying. You're amazing. Walker and I discussed it at length. Discussed
you
at length.”

She peeked over Joe's shoulder and caught a glimpse of Walker. Her stomach dropped at the way he was staring at her. At
them
. Her legs trembled when she caught the spark of desire burning in his eyes.

Joe's hand was on the small of her back as he pulled her against the length of his body. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

This was it. It was happening. When she felt his lips softly brush against hers, she welcomed it, opened her mouth and met his tongue.

Her knees went weak, but he held her steady. They kissed that way for what must have been minutes, exploring each other's mouths, knowing all the while Walker was watching them.

Walker. His gaze on their mouths set her sex on fire. For some reason being watched by Walker turned her on even more than the actual kiss between her and Joe.