Chemise Logan tucked a wisp of strawberry blond hair behind her ear as she fumbled with the old freestanding safe’s dial. Trust her eccentric Aunt Betty to leave the combination in a cryptic note, along with the deed to the antique shop, when she’d decided to go off on an extended adventure in Egypt. The note intimating that Chemise would find her life’s greatest treasure inside this monstrosity had been intriguing but she wasn’t getting her hopes up.
This was just not Chemise’s day or even her month for that matter. In fact her life had become a series of disasters of late. The first and most devastating was being fired from her job at the museum after the scroll she was conserving spontaneously combusted as she was working on it. She knew there had to be a logical scientific explanation for the fire but she hadn’t come up with it yet.
Then on top of that, Barry Lattimer, her fellow conservator and sometimes beau, had put the blame on her before publicly dumping her. She’d always known that he was ambitious, but she hadn’t realized what a craven coward he was until they were confronted by the outraged museum director, Dr. Edwards. Barry had crumpled like a wet paper bag and left her to take the heat.
Now she faced the possibility of criminal charges while Dr. Edwards tried to prove that she’d been negligent, even though he would no doubt collect big time from the museum’s insurance policy. Her girlfriend Miko’s suggestion that the scroll had burst into flames because of a curse still made her smile. She didn’t believe in all that hocus pocus nonsense; she was a scientist and she knew she hadn’t been careless. There had to be a logical explanation. But living under a cloud of suspicion sucked.
If that trio of disasters wasn’t bad enough, she now had her thirtieth birthday party to get through tonight... dateless. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to face the glam squad, her sure to be pitying ex-coworkers, yet. Not with her future in jeopardy. Gritting her teeth, she gave the stubborn safe’s dial a hard twist. To her shock it loosened with an audible click that echoed through the deserted shop. Halleluiah! She let out a relieved sigh. At least something was going right.
Auntie had been so protective of this safe—paranoid, even—when she’d tried to peek inside it as a child. So consequently, the safe’s contents had to be interesting, maybe even valuable, at least she hoped so. Going through the mystery goods would keep her occupied until Janelle, the glammest of all her old work buddies, came to pick her up for the party at Charlie’s Bar and Grille.
The safe’s heavy door swung open with an audible creak that made her shiver. It sounded like something out of an old spook movie. But she didn’t believe in ghosts, she told herself firmly. Brimming with excitement, Chemise bent down to cautiously peer inside the old freestanding safe and saw exactly nothing. Letting out a disappointed groan, she scanned the big safe’s nearly empty shelves. Some treasure!
Had Betty sold everything to keep this rat trap afloat, or maybe there had been nothing here in the first place. She felt a twinge of sympathy for her eccentric aunt, the proud woman who’d left her the antique shop, and told herself to suck it up. Aunt Betty would hate being pitied as much as she did.
Then a glint of gold from an object tucked way back on the safe’s top shelf caught her eye. Pay dirt! She reached inside and drew out a jeweled pendant, knowing instinctively that it was solid gold. Drawing it into the light she gazed down at the image of Isis, Egyptian Goddess of love, fascinated. Wow! It was exquisite. Her hands trembled a little as she held the necklace, feeling its antiquity. It couldn’t be real. Aunt Betty wasn’t likely to have a genuine artifact, but it was precious to her just that same.
The pendant had to be part of the Egyptian tourist junk that had flooded the market after Lord Canarvon unearthed King Tut, but it was expertly done. She slipped the exquisite necklace on, thinking it the perfect accessory to set off her plain turquoise dress, and felt a sense of warmth overcome her as it nestled in her overly plump cleavage.
It was then that she spotted another metallic object tucked away in the back on the same shelf. It was too big to be another pendant…a priceless statue perhaps? Yeah and pigs would fly sometime soon. There was no way that her luck would turn from bad to good that fast. Still the treasure hunt was fun, not to mention distracting.
Her heart raced as she reached into the safe and wrapped her fingers around a warm metallic object. Strange, she’d expect the metal to be cool to the touch not warm. Intrigued, she pulled her curious find out into the light and gazed down at an ancient Egyptian oil lamp. Now this was the real thing. She could feel the item’s antiquity; the former curator in her was as excited as a schoolgirl. It didn’t matter if she made a dime from this shop when she could touch beauty like this.
Why had Auntie stuck this treasure away? It belonged in a museum. Cartouches decorating the artifact told her it had belonged to someone important. Roughly translated, they read, “Knock three times.” She smiled and did just that, rapping three times on the table.
The lamp warmed even more, vibrating under her fingers. Thunder clapped outside, rattling the floorboards of the old building and her along with them. Letting out a cry of alarm, Chemise fell back against a dusty fainting couch as a long trail of steam escaped the lamp with a hiss. Watching in disbelief, she saw the mist instantly solidify into solid male perfection before her eyes. Naked male perfection, she amended, looking at miles of tanned skin. Good golly, she was obviously hallucinating, but what a sexy way to go crazy. She must have hit her head when she landed and was now unconscious…yes, that made sense. But staring at him, she couldn’t work up any regret. Woo-hoo, happy birthday to me! When she went off the deep end, she did so with gusto, dreaming up her very own private love genie. But at least she’d picked a dream lover who couldn’t give her away. She watched his glare focus on the lamp still clutched in her right hand.
Her fascinated gaze swept over the phantom genie she’d dreamed up, focusing on his stirring cock. Wow, what a package, and it was all hers. His body heat, his very presence wrapped around her, making her blush. She gulped and managed to tear her eyes off his truly impressive manhood, not that she’d seen that many others to compare him to.
Her stunned gaze traveled up, past six-pack abs and broad shoulders, and finally focused on his handsome, scowling face. Why was he scowling at her? As their eyes met, an unexpected wave of lust hit her, taking her breath away, making her stop thinking. He was irritated and sexy as hell, and his whiskey brown eyes seemed to read her thoughts. He was wearing a pendant just like the one she’d found in the safe which was now nestled between her breasts. At the thought of it, the pendant seemed to heat up in her cleavage.
When his hot gaze ghosted over her breasts, she felt it like a stroke. Chemise’s sex grew wet and her nipples budded tightly as if he’d touched them. How was he doing it? Her lips tingled along with the rest of her as she stared at his sensual mouth. It didn’t really matter how he worked his sexual tricks as long as he satisfied her. He was everything her wet dreams could have conjured up. Obviously her mixed up mind knew she needed to get laid to get over the traumas of late.
He frowned and ripped his pendant off. “If she sent you to fetch me, vixen, tell her to screw herself.”
Vixen! She’d never thought of herself as a vixen. She watched in shock as he opened his palm and the pendant he’d torn off vanished into thin air. Of course he’d speak English—she’d dreamed him up—but his British accent coupled with his fury took her by surprise. She pushed away from the fainting couch and her knees buckled. His hand instantly shot out to steady her catching her before she could fall. When his strong hand wrapped around her forearm a jolt of electricity went through her and she let out a sensual whimper. No wonder the lamp had felt hot with him inside it. It brought up the wild question of how he’d feel inside her. When she glanced at him his smirk told her he read her errant thoughts. Well hell, he ought to come wrapped in asbestos.
“She chose well,” he said, tugging her toward him.
Chemise couldn’t help being entranced by the brooding hunk even as he handled her like she weighed nothing more than a rag doll. Barry’s ending shot that she was fat and frumpy echoed through her mind making her feel the humiliation all over again. But the genie’s hold tightened on her arm as if he sensed that her mind wasn’t on him. That snapped her back to him, leaving Barry in the dust where he belonged.
She locked gazes with her sexy genie, a fine tremor going through her as every sexual circuit in her body turned on, responded to him even though he wasn’t actually doing her. His body heat transferred to her as he relentlessly drew her to him. She licked her lip and watched his eyes darken at the action. Ooh nice, she thought, creaming. She’d always dreamed of a demanding lover, not that she’d ever had the guts to admit it. She only dated safe men like Barry, who couldn’t see past her dowdy image. And sex, there was precious little of that in her life up to now but in a moment that would change.
This was different. The sexy genie now turning her into a puddle of mush was only a fantasy. Even she could come on to a fantasy, she assured herself. Then they collided and she let out a moan pressing against him like he was a magnet. “Holy moly, what a hunk,” she blurted out, flicking her tongue out to taste him. She took a little lap at his nipple and listened to him groan as it stiffened under her tongue. His cock jerked as he rubbed it against her. She was actually seducing him.
“No,” he gritted out, pushing her away.
She glared back at him. Well hell, he certainly wasn’t acting like a dream lover now.
Barry’s words, “You’re fat and frumpy and no man would want to sleep with you,” played across her mind, making her sigh.
The genie stared at her, hard. “What does she want?”
The question tore her mind off the sad state of her love life. Bewildered by the sexy genie’s aggressive tone, she asked, “She?” The way he rolled his eyes told her he thought she was lying. What the heck?
“The goddess you serve. Isis.” He focused pointedly at her pendant displayed in her open cleavage.
Isis! Her breath caught in her throat as his hot gaze ghosted over her cleavage once more. It was then that she noticed that three of the top buttons had come undone on her sundress and her curves were practically tumbling out of the garment. Her nipples jutted out, stiffening diamond hard as his appreciative gaze lingered on them. What was he, some kind of sexual catnip? This was so not the sophisticated way she wanted this to play out. Her chin rose mutinously as she tried to get her racing hormones under control. “Goddess I serve?”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, vixen. I will not tolerate it.”
The implied threat made her angry and she glared back at him. She would have to dream up a nut to sexually satisfy her. “I serve no goddess, only myself.”
“You wear her image.”
“So did you.” His expression turned remote at her words and she wondered why. She could feel his suspicion, his anger, as he focused on the pendant she wore. It was obvious that there was no love lost between him and the goddess. What would engender such antipathy? She studied him seeing a nerve pulse in his tight jaw. Then he looked at her and she saw the pain in his eyes. He was hurting for some reason and he needed her.
She sighed, feeling responsible for him. It wasn’t his fault he was mentally off-kilter. Everything she touched lately was a little off, especially the scroll she’d somehow destroyed. The loss of the ancient book of spells that’d combusted before her eyes still pained her. Why should the genie she’d dreamed up be any different? “Should I call you Genie?” She watched the corners of his sultry mouth turn up with reluctant humor, and she relaxed.
Now that was more like it. The smile made him approachable—yummy, even. Her lips tingled as she stared at his sultry mouth. She so wanted a big bite of him. She knew she was desperate for sex when her urge to jump her hallucination was almost irresistible.
“Why should you call me Genie? My name is Lucien.”
She savored the name thinking it fit him but couldn’t resist teasing him, “I thought all men who emerged from magical lamps were genies.”
“Not if they had the job foisted on them by an unscrupulous evil genie. I was working on a dig in the Valley of the Kings when Zander captured me to serve out the needs of his mistress, Isis.”
She watched him turn from seductive to ice cold in the blink of an eye as he turned away from her. It didn’t stop her from studying him curiously. She tried to keep her gaze above the waist but it was hard to miss his still rampant cock. So he was an Egyptologist who’d been the love slave of a goddess. Now that back story she would have dreamed up, seeing that her passion was Egyptian antiquities.
He gazed around her shop. “What kind of rubbish shop is this?”
Rubbish shop. She glanced at the cluttered shelves filled with assorted dusty collectables and sighed, understanding his comment. Her former co-workers had voiced similar opinions, putting her on the defensive. That was another reason she wasn’t looking forward to her birthday bash. Aunt Betty’s tastes had certainly been eclectic, but she’d had a good eye. “This is Aunt Betty’s Antique Shop.” Her chin rose as her pride kicked in. “I sell old things, like you, hot stuff.”
His turned to focus on her his eyes narrowed. “I am not for sale, Aunt Betty…”
It was almost like he was used to being tricked. “I’m not Aunt Betty, so you’ve nothing to fear from me on that score,” she said with a smile, hoping to reassure him. “I inherited the shop from her. I’m Chemise. Miss Chemise Lawson.” She held her hand out to him. Time seemed to stand still as he hesitated, making her wonder if he’d play nice. She looked into his stormy eyes and almost regretted her friendly gesture. This fantasy could prove dangerous she knew.
Then he took her hand and she felt a pull as old as time. His fingers wrapped around hers, hot and work roughened, and like a moth to the flame she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him, feeling his potent strength. She bit her lip, holding back a moan as his stiff cock pressed against her hip and something forbidden opened deep inside her psyche. Nestled close against his tempting hot body, she closed her eyes, embarrassed by her primal reaction, as he bit out a low curse.
“Hell, I’ve no time for this,” Lucien muttered, but he bent to nuzzle the nape of her neck anyway.
Great, leave it to her to conjure up a reluctant genie. Panting, almost swooning in his arms, she stiffened, prepared to reject him first. She wasn’t some charity case. If he didn’t want her he could just poof back into the lamp and she’d get on with her life. She pulled back to tell him so, then hesitated when she saw the sweat on his brow. He was fighting his desire for her. It was a balm for her wounded pride.
When Lucien’s smoldering gaze swept over her breasts; she arched toward him knowing that she needed to make the first move, to free him from what she didn’t know. His tactile gaze touched her just like before and she could swear she felt him touch her there. Her nipples budded tighter as she pressed against him, aching to have him inside her. Her clit tingled and her sex grew creamy as her arousal grew exponentially.
His sultry smile said he knew how she was feeling even if he wasn’t happy about giving in to both their desires. Hell, he was probably a mind reader too. He couldn’t just cut and run on her; she’d dreamed him up, damn it! “You can’t go,” she said. “You owe me three wishes.”
He reached out to gently tug the lamp out of her hand. “You’ve been reading too many fables, my lady. You’re mistaken. I owe you nothing.”
She frowned as he stole her lamp right out of her hand, his fingertips caressing hers as he pulled away. “Wrong, I know the fairy tale as well as you do, buster. I release you and you grant me three wishes.”
The corners of his mouth quirked up in a half smile at her fierce demand. “You don’t have the power to truly release me, Vixen.” His expression sobered as he reached out a hand to cup her cheek. “Zander will soon learn of my escape and come for me. I must go. A gentleman does not put a lady in jeopardy.”
Well, that just tore it, he was going to cut and run. Only she would dream up a reluctant genie. She pulled back, breaking contact from his hand stroking her face and looked away to hide the tears of frustration misting her eyes. “Go then, if you don’t want me. I’ve got a hot date coming to pick me up in a few minutes anyway.”
“Hot date?” Lucien asked, puzzled.
“In your lingo a beau, an escort, you know a man.” She cringed inside as she told the bald faced lie but couldn’t take it back. Why she cared what a fantasy man thought of her she couldn’t say. She swore she could hear him gnash his teeth in aggravation and when she turned to look at him she could see fury in his eyes. Was he really jealous? The possibility stunned her. And then he reached out to snag her, pulling her hard into his aroused body and she stopped thinking.
Lucien let out a growl. “Don’t be daft, woman. How can you say I don’t want you?”
Chemise picked up his masculine outrage loud and clear as he tested his throbbing erection against her hip. Damn but she wanted a bit taste of him. She let out a murmur of surrender, wrapping her arms around his neck. Shaking with need, she melted against him in a big puddle of lust, aching for him to possess her. And when his mouth slanted over hers with fierce demand she knew she’d found paradise.
Sir Lucien Darby’s head swirled with doubt as he kissed his sexy little summoner. She was wearing Isis’s symbol of protection but she was a far cry from the simpering handmaidens Isis always sent to fetch him. Even if he hadn’t had her strange provocative dress and language for clues, Chemise’s feisty attitude would have told him she was different.
She sounded nothing slightly reminiscent of the woman who’d spoken to him through the safe all these years, a lady called Betty, telling him that Chemise was probably telling him the truth. His daily visits with his hostess as she liked to call herself had kept him up with modern times and given him hope that he’d someday be free. But could he trust the sultry maiden who’d summoned him?
He knew that the pendant the temptress wore was chillingly real—he knew because he possessed an identical talisman. It was his last link with the goddess and he’d sworn he’d never use it. He’d expected one of Isis’s tricks when he was summoned, not an unconventional tease that made him hard with one glance from her wide turquoise blue eyes.
He nipped her lush lower lip in retribution and she moaned opening her mouth for him driving him mad with desire. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? He thrust his tongue into her sweet mouth, demanding her surrender and she gave way. She kissed him back, her tongue tangling with his in unvarnished sexual demand. He didn’t know how long he’d languished in his lamp but he knew he couldn’t put his overwhelming sexual urge down to simple arousal. The sex kitten in his arms called to him like no other.
He was a man out of time, but he didn’t care. Time ceased to Matter when Chemise kissed him. He found her spellbinding, arousing. Chemise was built for love, for him, but who the hell was she really? His beloved?
Nonsense, he wasn’t falling for that fairytale again. Isis had had an astrological chart made for him. Oswald had assured him that someday his beloved would release him from captivity. Three signs would mark her. She’d trust him for no reason, she’d risk her life for him, and she’d bear a heart-shaped beauty mark on her left breast. He’d been fool enough to believe the prophecy, thinking Isis was the promised one. It’d all been a trick and after he’d uncovered her deception, she’d banished him to his lamp.
Who Chemise was, and what she wanted he’d find out later. Right now he had a century long need to slake and he couldn’t help sensing her deep feminine desire. Someone had hurt her badly and she wanted to use him for her own purposes. Hell, he ought to be used to it by now. And he really didn’t mind being used by her, he decided with a wry smile as she shivered against him. Knowing he was a lust drunk fool, he tested his stiff cock against Chemise’s soft womanly body again.
Chemise whimpered, rubbing her hard nipples against his chest, and he forgot all about the past. He’d never felt such warmth. He could tell she was hesitant, untried in the art of seduction, but her instincts were good. When she tumbled him down onto the couch, he acquiesced with a grunt, pulling her atop him, even though he knew he should hurry. The urge to be with her was just too strong to resist.
Sprawled atop him, she froze for a moment as if shocked by her own boldness, and he stifled a groan. If she stopped now it would kill him and he couldn’t bear to let her go. He smoothed a hand down her spine, and her clothes magically vanished in his hand’s wake. It was one of the tricks Isis had taught him, the better to service her, but he didn’t want to think about that heartless bitch now. Instead he focused on Chemise as she blushed atop him, her soft nude body now pressing against him. It was pure torture but he was no rogue to take her by force; she would have to show him that she really wanted this. He waited breathlessly for her reaction; would she play the shy maiden, or would she keep ravishing him? Her big blue eyes widened in surprise, and he watched, bemused, as a blush spread from her face to her delectably curved ass. He watched its motion with avid interest. He had plans for that saucy bottom and every other inch of her too.
“How did you do that?” she asked with a sultry smile.
“Magic,” he said, gazing at her through a haze of desire. His cock was so hard he thought it might burst at any moment. Damn, he wasn’t going to last long. It had been so long, centuries probably, and he’d never been near anyone like her. She wriggled against him and he bit back a moan as his cock bucked growing even harder as she moved. A sexy innocent who threatened to unman him with a twitch of her hips.
“Oh, lord, Barry was right, I suck at this,” she let out a distressed gasp. “Did I hurt you?”
He pulled her closer, looping an arm around her waist when she tried to move away. She dared to make eye contact with him, her blue eyes smoldering with desire, and he felt like he could gladly drown in their turquoise pools. Who the devil was Barry, he wondered, outraged, but when she blanched at his scowl, he schooled his expression into one less fierce. “On the contrary, you’re too good at it. That’s why I was groaning.” He saw a flush of pleasure light her face and was glad he’d put it there. Then she gently moved on him again and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to grab her and take her.
Let the innocent seduce him he decided in a heated rush, as his cock twitched in response. Knowing that she wanted this as much as he did helped keep him sane. When she bent to lap at his nipple, he let out a hiss, as his blood sizzled. His sex starved body was rousing to painful proportions under her tender ministrations. He thought that he might not be able to handle it for a moment. That he might turn into a ravening beast just like Isis had claimed that he would. Sheer willpower kept him from acting on his impulse. He could control himself, he realized as heat tempered with reserve rushed through him. It came as a shock to him. So Isis had lied to him about this too. Why should he be surprised? The bitch goddess would use any trick in the book to keep her love slaves in line. When Chemise moved on to torture his other nipple, thoughts of Isis faded into oblivion. He only wanted to concentrate on the fascinating creature he was with. The link to the goddess was gone. He lay back with a blissful laugh, letting Chemise ravish him to her hearts delight.
She raised her head shooting him a troubled frown as she stopped seducing him. “Are you laughing at me?”
His body throbbed unsatisfied beneath her tempting curvaceous body and he cursed himself for making her stop. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my lovely,” he responded. He could see that his response startled her. She wasn’t used to being called lovely but he found her full curves and guileless ways utterly charming. Should he perhaps recite a sonnet to tell her how desirable she was? As he considered it, she gave him a tender smile and shimmied down his overly aroused body inch by torturous inch to dip her tongue inside his naval. Heat scalded through him a red haze covering him as he lost all rational thought.
“Good,” she said, swirling her tongue inside his navel. Then she left his belly with a kiss to slip down even lower to fit between his legs.
He froze guessing her intentions a moment before her hot tongue flicked out to taste his cock. He let out a groan, his body jerking in response.
“I don’t think I could take it if you laughed at me,” she murmured a moment before she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock.
Lucian groaned stunned by her disclosure and sincerity as she licked the throbbing head of his cock like it was a sweet. He lay back for a moment reveling in the sensation of being taken by this innocent as she opened up and took him as deep into her mouth as she could. His cock pulsed as she drew on him and then pulled back to tease the vein under his cocks head. He let out a growl, his cock twitching as he balls tightened and his body prepared to explode. Knowing he couldn’t last much longer before the bewitching beauty unmanned him he reached down for her. “Enough,” he commanded. She gave him a moue of disappointment her sultry lips still wrapped around him and he lost a little piece of his heart. She was his if only temporarily. His very own love slave if you like. And he needed to be inside her now. “Give it up or I’ll paddle your sweet ass,” he demanded giving her an imperious look.
“Meany,” she said letting him go.
But he didn’t miss the excitement in her eyes. The minx wanted to be disciplined by him. It made his cock even harder. He pulled her up his body and they both hissed with pleasure as she rubbed sensually against him.
“Would you really spank me?” she asked her eyes widening.
“Count on it,” Lucian affirmed watching a telling blush turn Chemise a delightful rosy color. It was only when he drew her higher, dangling her generous breasts over him like ripe fruit he wanted to devour, that he saw the heart-shaped mark on the curve of her right breast. His heart almost stopped beating as he gazed at the mark that told him that fate was smiling on him again. Oswald’s prediction had come true; his beloved had truly set him free, but at what cost. She wasn’t of his time, would never believe the prophecy if he told her of it. Maybe fate was laughing at him instead, giving him one taste of bliss, before sending him back.
“What’s wrong?” Chemise frowned down at him freezing up. She looked away. “If you’ve changed your mind and don’t want me, take your bloody hands off me…”
Her pain broke through his self pity. Some bastard had obviously convinced her that she wasn’t desirable. At least he could fix that before he was re-consigned to the lamp. “You silly woman,” he said in a teasing tone that had her looking at him again. He deliberately rubbed his erection against her mound making her gasp and quiver against him. He could feel the heat in her creamy mound. “How can you even think that I don’t want you, Chemise?”
“Well,” she said with a blush. “I guess I’ve got your hard-on to prove it. It is kind of hard to deny.”
So that’s what they were calling erections now. He flicked his tongue out to taste one of Chemise’s sweet strawberry peaks and her nipple puckered, turning ruby hard under his tongue.
She moaned, “Lucien.”
Needing no further encouragement, he sucked her nipple into his mouth rolling it around his tongue, nipping it, making her quiver and cry out as he tested his cock against the soft wet heat of the curls shielding her feminine secrets. He let out a growl and captured her other tit in his mouth as she frantically rubbed her mound against him trying to hurry him. But he had no intention of rushing. He wanted to enjoy her. He drew back one hand to give her sexy ass a smack making her squeal. “Behave yourself.”
“No,” she said her eyes twinkling as she rubbed against him again.
He gave her another spank making them both moan as his balls tightened and his cock bucked against her. So much for his futile attempts to slow things down…they were both to hungry to wait…but he had to be sure of her. He’d once been a gentleman after all and even though he knew he was less than that now some essences died hard. He slid between the folds of her creamy sex wetting the head of his prick on her nectar and watched her turquoise eyes grow soft with passion. “Do you want this, Chemise?”
“More than you could possibly know.”
Her honey voiced surrender succeeded in pushing him over the edge. “Oh, I think I’ve got a good idea,” he gritted out as he pressed against the entrance to her tunnel of love. With a groan of need he pressed against her creamy barrier and it gave way as he began to enter her tight wet sheath. Her sex spasmed in reaction to his invasion, clamping down on him, forcing him to gasp with mixed pleasure and pain.
“You’re too big,” she said with a cry, going still beneath him.
Feeling her shut down below him fucked with his mind, but he strove to be calm and reassuring even though he felt consumed with fear. That she’d reject him, and most of all that it wasn’t to be, she’d never be his. “No, beloved. It will be perfect,” he crooned his words coming out a little gruffer than he intended. Knowing he was close to disaster, he decided that she needed action more than words. His hand slicked down between their bodies to find and play with her with her stiff little clit. She jerked as if a live wire had touched her and shuddered as her cunt relaxed around him and her juices coated him. Groaning at the hot velvety cage she made around him he thrust the rest of the way inside her warmth until she took him all and they were both trembling.
“Oh my, I had no idea,” Chemise whimpered, rocking against him.
“That’s it,” he praised, his cock throbbing as her sheath rippled over him threatening to end him before it had even started. It was a perfect fit, the fates had chosen well to make her his beloved. Gripping her hips, he pulled halfway out of her to thrust up into her hard making her cry out beneath him as kittenish noises poured out of her mouth. He gazed up at her in wonder, stunned that he’d finally found her, that she was real. A wave of tenderness came over him as he looked at her slightly crooked smile, her wide set cat’s eyes, her lush curves. He supposed that she wasn’t traditionally beautiful but he found her fascinating. Then her sheath rippled on his and he forgot all about thinking as he fucked her harder. “Ride me my beloved,” he gritted out as he urged her to sit astride him.
Without any more urging she ground against him moaning.
Lucian’s hands tightened on her sexy hips as he pulsed inside her thrusting deeper until they were both gasping. Knowing he couldn’t hang on much longer, he arched his thrust to brush against her G spot while reaching for the sentient nub of her clit. She came apart in his hands, screaming out his name and he jerked, joining her in bliss as he came with a roar against her cervix. Wave after wave of cum poured out of him as she milked at him, her blissful cries music to his ears. It was oh, so satisfying to know that she was with him all the way. When it was over and he was finally sated, he caressed her tenderly, the intimate skin on skin contact almost as satisfying as the sex. He reveled in the sensation as her scent her essence wrapped around him. The room smelled like sex, like her, and he knew he’d never forget her. Too bad he couldn’t keep her without bringing her danger. She settled against him with a sigh of pleasure, and he held her tight, knowing he’d found a treasure.
Cradling her in his arms, Lucien held her as if he never wanted to let her go, savoring the stolen moment of bliss. If history repeated itself, Zander would have sensed his escape by now. It was only a matter of time before his nemesis hunted him down to try to force him back into captivity. It was the only way for Zander to roam free and wreak havoc on society. But this time would be different, Lucian vowed. After their previous conflicts, he knew a few of the evil genie’s weaknesses like a few lines from the spell that would send him back into captivity. It was what he’d been working on all those centuries ago that had gotten him trapped in the first place.
“What’s wrong?” Chemise asked raising her head to look at him.
Lucian cursed himself for letting his worries about Zander intrude on this moment of bliss. His sweet beloved was perceptive, he thought, meeting her troubled gaze, but his sweet shopkeeper would have no idea about what it took to defeat Zander. Much as it went against his newly-born tender feelings for her, he knew that he had to leave her for her own good. Taking a moment to make love to her might have been foolish but he couldn’t regret it. “There’s nothing wrong Chemise,” he said pulling her back down atop him.
She sprawled across him, boneless once more as he stroked her back until she all but purred. When she was relaxed he cast a sleeping spell on her and felt her go under as she went limp. He held her tight for a moment, placing a kiss on the top of her fiery head. Then he forced himself to let her go, wasting some of his magic to reverse their positions so that she was lying on her back on the couch.
He felt cold and bereft as he gazed down at her, preparing to leave her. She’d hate him for it but losing her was the price he had to pay to keep her alive. Chemise murmured in her sleep and curled up a little more on the couch, sound asleep. He gazed down at her longingly for another foolish moment, wishing things were different that he could stay and claim what was his. But Zander would stop at nothing to destroy Chemise, a mere mortal who’d had the temerity to summon him.
The still gallant part of him knew that he needed to draw danger away from Chemise tonight and fast. In the past it hadn’t taken Zander long to get a bead on his location. This time he’d be ready for combat. And who knows, maybe sex with his beloved would somehow give him extra ammunition against the evil genie. As he thought it he felt a tingle surge through him and smirked at his wishful thinking. After all these years you wouldn’t think he’d have any innocence left. He had to follow the plan he’d been concocting since their last encounter. Fight it out, trick Zander into revealing the rest of the spell, and then put the evil genie back in the lamp where he couldn’t victimize others. Sever his last tie with Isis, and then what…die…maybe. Right now he didn’t care. Going back to the half existence he’d led before Chemise had summoned him was unthinkable.
She shivered as if she’d sensed the direction of his thoughts. Was that part of Osmond’s prediction true as well? Where their thoughts linked? It was a painful thought. He’d know when she woke to find herself alone and cursed him out, but he’d also know if Zander came for her. He blinked Chemise’s clothes back onto her, shielding her from his hungry gaze in an attempt to get on with what he had to do. He couldn’t give in to temptation and fuck the sexy shopkeeper again, he had to save her. With a grumble of self-reproach at his weakness for her, he dressed himself in a flash and bent to pick up his lamp from the floor where it had fallen when they were trysting. This he had to take care of first. He couldn’t very well walk about the city with the key to their survival in tow.
Remembering Chemise’s mention of the safe, he glanced around the cluttered room for the vault and saw it standing in a dark corner of the room, the door ajar. Perfect! He carried the lamp to the open safe and thrust it inside; knowing instinctively that this was where he’d resided for years. Quiet, secure, with just a hint of a lavender scent that he’d found relaxing. Strange he even semi recalled an old woman stroking his lamp and murmuring soothing sounds he hadn’t understood. Aunt Betty? He glanced at Chemise in question and saw her smiling in her sleep.
The women in her family were definitely different, and he thanked his lucky stars that they apparently they liked old things like him. He left the lamp in the far left corner of the safe and firmly closed the door, spinning the lock and taking the precaution of putting a blocking spell on the safe to prevent it from opening. He could just as easily block Chemise’s mind from remembering the combination, but looking at her he couldn’t do that to her. This would just have to be good enough. And he’d have to finally trust someone. It wasn’t easy but he knew that he had to take a chance on Chemise.
He walked away from the safe hoping that the vault’s heavy metal casing would block its location from Zander. After all he’d lain undisturbed there for years and that wasn’t Isis’s style. Her parting words that he’d have to come crawling back to her to beg her forgiveness when he decided to be a good bed slave echoed through his mind. He sneered, like he wanted an icy piece of ass that bad. The imperious goddess could go to hell if she wasn’t there already. Isis must have truly forgotten him, he decided with a feeling of relief. At least he’d only have one otherworldly creature to battle.
He pulled his mind off Isis and gazed back at Chemise, still dazzled by her tender and genuine reactions as he’d made love to her. He’d never experienced anything like it. He gave his beloved one final, hungry glance before he strode from the shop. Her sleeping spell would be wearing off soon and from what she’d said her hot date would be coming for her. Every jealous bone in his body came alive at the thought of her being with another man. She still contained his scent, his essences. She was his, damn it. And you can’t afford to keep her, he told himself with self mockery. Its better if she goes with another, forgets you. Yeah, so why did the primitive part of him want to kill? Because he was a fool, that was why. At least she wouldn’t be alone tonight.
His mind clouded with pain, he forced himself to leave the shop and ran smack dab into a tall blond woman in a short red dress. He eased back before they actually touched, wanting no other female’s scent on him that would block Chemise’s essence. He found it comforting and he wouldn’t lose it. Who the whorishly dressed blond was he didn’t know, but when he saw her eyes narrow with suspicion on him he felt like the guilty bastard she thought him to be.
“Not so fast buster.” She glanced at the shops closed sign and scowled. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing sneaking out of Chemise’s shop?”
“She summoned me,” he said dryly and watched her eyes narrow in doubt.
“Yeah right,” she said. “If you’ve touched her I’ll…”
“And who are you to be lurking outside my beloved… that is, Chemise’s shop?” he demanded turning the tables on her. He watched a speculative look come over her face as her fear dissolved.
“I’m here to pick her up for her birthday party. And your “beloved” better be as untouched as you claim she is or you’re going to be in a world of hurt, buster. Where the fuck is she?” she demanded, pushing past him.
He stepped aside, letting her pass him. The woman’s accusatory tone fit because he had harmed Chemise. He’d taken her innocence and left her marked for death. Yeah, he was a gallant gentleman alright, he thought with self reproach. But at least this wasn’t another man picking her up as Chemise had claimed. It was enough to brighten his night. He was glad to know that Chemise had a champion. She’d lied about a man picking her up. It wouldn’t be the first time a female had deceived him, but this time he was glad. Maybe she was trying to make him jealous. He couldn’t help smiling at the thought. “You must be the hot date she mentioned.”
“Hot date,” the blond parroted startled.
“Never mind,” he said as he stepped around her, satisfied that she’d confirmed his thoughts. Chemise wouldn’t be in another man’s arms tonight. “She’s inside, waiting for you and I don’t think you should keep her waiting.”