Desert of the Damned (19 page)

“Stop. I’ll come if you keep that up.” He pushed her against the cushions and gathered the hem of her nightshirt in his fist, drawing it over her head in one swift motion. “We have all night,” he said huskily.

She gave a dry laugh. “Really? I don’t think either of us will last that long. I have supplies in my bedroom.” Then realized the silliness of needing condoms in a dream.

102

Desert of the Damned

“We won’t be getting that far for a while,” he said as he knelt beside the sofa and kneaded her breasts with both hands, then pinched the nipples until her body was writhing. She wanted to feel his weight on her and feel the thickness of his cock inside her. How much longer would he make her wait? It was her dream and she could lead it the way she wanted it to go, the way she knew Jake would be. Not like Dante was—

good at teasing and getting her off but lousy at making love.

Her hips rocked, her clit throbbed and ached to be touched. As if Jake could read her mind, he moved from her breasts and trailed his fingers to the drenched cleft of her pussy. Then he used his other hand to expose her swollen, sensitive clit. With a feather touch, he probed her nub. Amy jerked, her body hovering at the very precipice of an orgasm.

“Oh, fuck. Please don’t stop.” Her hips rose and undulated, inviting his continued touch but Jake’s fingers touched everywhere but where she needed to be stimulated.

“You’re teasing me—no, torturing me.”

“Yes, I am. Don’t come yet.”

“Oh, Jake, I’m on the edge.” Her body trembled with need. A few well-placed touches or strokes and she’d come in an instant.

“Hold off. Make it last.” Slipping his finger between her folds, he slid into her channel and plunged deep. “Your cunt is hot and juicy, Amy. You’re ready to be fucked.”

She groaned and raised her hips off the sofa. He pressed her back down. “I want you inside me, Jake.”

“Not yet. Ride my fingers.” He pumped two fingers inside her. It wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted to feel the thickness of his cock spreading her wide, feeling the root of his shaft rub her clit.

“Oh, Jake. Take me. Please.”

“You’re so wet.” He ignored her pleas. Outside the sound of the insects grew louder. She glanced at the fireplace and the flames blazed higher and he hadn’t added any firewood. Dream, she reminded herself, no insects and no firewood. Couldn’t she make the dream go the way she wanted?

“Jake, make me come now.” In the background she heard Sienna mewing but she ignored her.

He turned his head and gave her an odd look. For a moment she thought his face changed like in a nightmare. His head lowered and he sucked her clit. Almost there.

Grasping his head, her fingers entwined in his hair. Jake’s tongue lapped at her clit in maddening circles but for some reason she couldn’t reach climax. So close…so close…but not there yet. The cacophony of insects began to fade.
No, don’t wake up.
“Oh, that’s good. Like that.” She raised her hips.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he said.

103

Kathy Kulig

Sienna’s mewing grew louder. Still Amy ignored it. The distraction was enough to yank her away from the rhythm of her pending orgasm. Fearing she might be waking from her dream, she gripped Jake’s shoulders, easing him up. “Jake, take me now.

Hurry. Come inside me.” He complied, lying on top of her.

“Shhh. I know you’re ready. I want to savor every moment,” he said huskily. He took her mouth again in a kiss that took her breath, captured her whimpers.

During the kiss, she wriggled and spread her legs until she had his hard cock pressed on her pussy. He rose up from the kiss and smiled wickedly. “Impatient, aren’t you?”

“Hell, yeah.”

He chuckled softly. “More passion to fill the well.”

Huh? Reaching down, she gripped his shaft, angling it between her damp folds to slip toward her entrance, at the same time she met his gaze.

He frowned. His expression lacked the strength, confidence and powerful sensuality only moments ago he had exuded. Making her desire known would ease the dream in the direction she wanted.

As she maneuvered the head of his cock to her slick entrance, Jake’s eyes widened in panic. His blue eyes flashed and turned to brown. She knew his eyes were blue but dreams did odd things. All she cared about was the heated sensation of the tip of his cock probing the opening of her wet channel. Her stomach coiled and every muscle quivered in anticipation. Gripping his ass and raising her hip, she tried to urge his head inside. “Yes, Jake, make love to me.” She felt him slip him a little more and moaned.

Blissful triumph. “Oh God, yes.”

Her head lolled from side to side and she glanced at the fireplace. The fire in the fireplace was fading out. She closed her eyes, rocking her hips to feel Jake’s cock slip in past the head. “Jake,” she beseeched.

Sienna yowled like a wildcat. Amy’s head swam. She opened her eyes and blinked to clear her vision.

The fireplace was black, the room cold.

Jake stood beside the sofa. She never felt him slip out of her body. The room spun and blurred. Amy rubbed her eyes. When she could focus again she realized she was awake and naked and alone.

Not alone.

Standing in the shadows beside the fireplace was Dante.

Staring at him for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming and if he was really there. Then Dante tilted his chin up in a defiant pose, glaring at her. He was bare-chested and wore brown suede pants. His long black hair and sleek muscular body made him look like an Indian out of an old Western movie.

“Dante?” Her words barely came out in a raspy whisper.

104

Desert of the Damned

Not answering her, he shook his head in disgust, pursing his mouth together and raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. “Dante? How did you get in? What are you doing here?” Was he screwing with her mind again while she slept? Did he trick her into having a sexual dream, making her think she was having a wet dream with Jake?

Bastard.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned. Then he glared at her.

“Sorry.” The look frightened her and she pulled the blanket closer. Sienna hissed and yowled. Her skin crawled with gooseflesh, not knowing if what she was seeing was real or a hallucination. Amy did not like being frightened in her own home.

Covering herself with the blanket, she stood and took a breath as she gathered the courage to speak. She pointed to the front door. “Get out!”

Without a word, Dante’s form faded into a ghostlike image, then changed into the coyote with the chopped-off tail.

She sucked in a sharp breath and screamed. The kitten hissed and clawed at her box as if the tiny thing would attack the coyote given a chance. Amy hoped the coyote didn’t smell Sienna and eat her.

Frantically, she searched around the room, looking for a weapon to fight off the predator. Weapon, weapon. Her home was invaded, her pet was threatened.

She then spied the rack of fireplace tools, leapt over the coffee table, tripped over the bear rug and snatched up a poker. Waving the wrought iron tip at the animal, she approached it cautiously.

The coyote raised his chin, sniffed the air, swung around and walked straight through the glass door as if there was no glass.

Amy dropped the poker and let out a choked scream. Her hand cupped over her mouth. Fear kept her from looking outside to see if the coyote was there but she had to see, had to know for sure if she had imagined it.

She vaulted to the window and peered out. It was there. The coyote was weaving around scrub brush, heading toward the tall saguaro silhouetted against the star-filled sky.

Sienna mewed softly like a sweet kitten again. Scooping her up in her arms, Amy strode through her house, carrying the poker. After checking every window and door to make sure everything was locked up tight, she put her kitten back to bed. An icy chill skittered across Amy’s skin. What good would locked windows and doors do when the creature could move though walls?

105

Kathy Kulig

Chapter Twelve

Dante changed back into his human form and spat on the ground. Well, that was a royal fuckup. He marched in giant strides toward the tall saguaro. No telling how much chi he lost in that fiasco. He glanced over his shoulder at Amy’s house in the distance and saw that she hadn’t followed. Then he kicked a passing tumbleweed. It floated up a few feet then slowly bounced back onto the ground. Kicking a ball of dead twigs did little to ease his anxiety.

He had no choice now. Finding mortals wasn’t easy, especially with the level of life force that Amy Weston provided. He didn’t have the time left to search out other partners. Hunting an animal or two on his way to the portal might help add to his offering but again, he didn’t have time. He would have to find humans to kill and fast.

The heady scent of moist, sea air made his throat tighten knowing he’d have to deal with Gwyllain soon. Along the eastern horizon a hint of golden light touched the velvety black sky above the desert horizon. Dawn was approaching and he had to get to work, so the sooner he faced Gwyllain’s hostility, the sooner he’d be back.

The landmark for the portal, the tall saguaro, was twenty yards away. The sound of crashing waves roared above the desert sounds. Rough seas. Not a good sign. Get this journey over with, he thought as he grasped the nebula stone pendant in one hand.

Dante held his breath as the ground dropped out beneath his feet. He plummeted into darkness.

When he righted himself, the transfer through the portal was complete. Dante was in Anartia.

At the edge of the cliffs, the turbulent gray waves beat against the jagged rocks. A cold wind whipped at his bare chest and sliced through his pants. The sky had lost its tranquility since the last time he was here. Dark clouds roiled into mountain-sized thunderheads as lightning bolts discharged in violent streaks.
What the hell is going on?

He’d never seen Anartia in such a state. A little stormy, sometimes gray but never this violent. As he understood this fragmented world, its existence depended on a delicate balance of energy. In his hundred-and-fifty-odd years as an immortal, he had the opportunity to study quantum physics, dark matter, vacuum energy, magnetic and gravitational fields, all which might explain the essence of Anartia and how it was constructed to some degree, because Gwyllain had said it was artificially constructed.

Dante’s knowledge only touched the basics in those sciences and he doubted if even the most gifted scientists from Earth could grasp the alternative world’s framework. All the laws of physics didn’t apply here as far as Dante could determine.

But he knew in his gut that something was not right. Annihilating one member of Gwyllain’s Throng shouldn’t cause such upheaval. Gwyllain had told him he only had 106

Desert of the Damned

to serve her with offerings of chi one month every hundred years. The last time he served her was in 1955. The effect of Tarik’s experiments had required Dante’s early return, no doubt.

Moving away from the cliff edge, he let out a breath, grateful that she wasn’t around to greet him this time. Who in their right mind designed the portal entrance at the edge of a precipice overlooking the ocean?

He scanned the fields of heather leading up to the temple. Many of the flowers were shriveled, the grass brown and flattened. He wondered what the temple’s gardens looked like. Gwyllain took pride in her gardens and would be furious if they suffered too.

Two gardens spread out the full length of the temple, a private one off Gwyllain’s chamber and one that led off from the pool area. Each mini-oasis was lush with tropical flowers—hibiscus, jasmine, gardenias, orchids—and shaded by large fruit trees. Statues of unknown people or unknown gods, marble benches, trellises and water fountains were scattered throughout. Like a garden on Mount Olympus. Dante had been curious about the statues. Were they gods of these beings? Did immortals have gods or a god that they worshiped? He hadn’t asked because he preferred to spend the least amount of time on Anartia as possible. Small talk with Gwyllain might anger her or keep him there longer. Best to do his worship and leave.

Tarik had told him Anartia had been exiled around Earth for over a thousand years.

And if Gwyllain had been acquiring hundreds of servants during that time, what parts of Earth’s ancient mythology was molded by them? Told by various individuals who did Gwyllain’s bidding?

As he walked toward the temple with trepidation, two young women and two men ran out and headed toward the cliffs, their hands on their pendants. All looked to be in their twenties or thirties and wore casual Earth clothes for cold-weather temperatures—

jeans, sweaters with parkas. They nodded a greeting as they passed Dante and leapt off the cliff. They all vanished the instant their feet left the ground.

Shortly after they left, another group of three ran out of the temple. They were all men in exercise shorts and tees as if they just came out of the gym. What the hell? The swirling nebula stone pendant also hung around their necks. They jogged down the field following the four who had just passed, gave Dante a short salute and jumped into the void.

How many Throng did Gwyllain have? She usually alternated her offerings. Dante hadn’t seen this many come and go during his last visit. Besides the men and women who remained at the temple as her slaves and guards, and Tarik, Gwyllain’s mate, the only other visitors to Anartia were occasional Drones arriving with their offering.

Puzzling.

He ran up to the temple and entered. He was late but if Gwyllain had just entertained another Drone maybe she wouldn’t care.

107

Kathy Kulig

Scanning the great hall, he saw her stretched out, naked, facedown, on one of the cushioned lounge chairs surrounding the pool. A muscle-bound guard, wearing only a loincloth, poured scented oils from jewel-colored glass pitchers onto his palm and began massaging her back.