Authors: Alice Gaines
“Cabin six is on the most beautiful islet in the Chimera archipelago.”
“Listen, pal. I don’t belong on an archipelago. I’m supposed to be on Chimera.” The city she’d seen from the plane wasn’t much, but it did appear to have a few restaurants and a club. She might get through a week there. Out here with no one but the palm trees to talk to, she’d go stark raving mad in a couple of days.
“Technically, that island is Chimera,” the man said. “If you consult a map…”
“I’m not interested in any damned maps. I want a room in a hotel near the closest thing you have to a shopping district, got me?”
“You’d like to change your accommodations,” he said as if he’d never heard of anything like that before.
“Yes, mental genius. Yes, I want to change my accommodations.”
“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible,” he answered as if that settled everything.
“The customer’s always right, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. But you see, you’re not the customer. Your sponsor specifically directed us to put you in an isolated location.”
“All right.” She took a breath. “Who’s my sponsor?”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Let me get this right. Someone paid you a lot of money for me to spend a week here.”
“Chimera’s an exclusive resort, Miss VanSant. We don’t offer cut-rate vacations.”
“And that person has told you to stick me out here.”
“But, you won’t tell me who the sponsor is.”
“I can’t tell you,” he corrected.
“All right. Let me talk to the manager.”
“I am the manager.”
Oh, great. She sank into a chair. “I’m going to contact the Better Business Bureau.”
“We don’t have such an organization. Everyone’s satisfied on Chimera Island.”
“I’m not satisfied,” she shouted. “I’m very dissatisfied.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he answered.
“Get me another room, stupid, on the main island!”
“There aren’t any.”
“You didn’t look.”
“I didn’t have to. I’m the manager.”
“All right,” she said. “I realize that not all islands are run like Manhattan Island, so I’m going to explain it to you in simple words.”
“I’m not staying on this little fart in the ocean.”
“But your sponsor…”
“I don’t give a shit about my sponsor.” Whoever the hell he was. “I want you to find me a room on the main island. Put me on a waiting list, if you have to.”
“Twenty-four hours, pal.” She looked at her watch. “You have until three pm tomorrow or I’m tail lights.”
“Very well, Miss VanSant, I’ll consult your sponsor,” he said.
“You do that.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you this afternoon?”
“Yes, there is. Get stuffed!”
* * *
Gloria woke with the afternoon sun in her eyes and her bladder full. She glanced at her watch -- 2:30. She must have misread it before when she told the manager-bot it was 3:00. That idiot had made her so crazy she’d forget her own name.
She rose from the bed and padded barefoot into the bathroom. After using the toilet, she brushed her teeth. She’d only slept for half an hour, but somehow her mouth felt like fuzzy slippers. Teeth cleaned, she spiked up her hair as best she could. She’d have to find her mousse to get it right.
Her stomach rumbled. When had she last eaten? Not on the plane, that was for damned sure. Not even in first class could you find anything worth feeding to a pet gerbil. Unless the management here expected her to climb palm trees for coconuts, they had to have some kind of room service. Cabin service? Island service? For Christ’s sake, how long would it take them to get something out here for her to eat?
She headed toward the phone, going by the cabin door. A smell stopped her there. Fruit. Exotic, ripe fruit. Fruit so delicious the scent went right into her head and to her brain.
She opened the door and found a tray on the stoop. Metal lids covered each dish, but the perfume of fruit escaped into the air.
She bent and picked up the tray. As well as the dishes, it held a carafe of iced tea and a newspaper. She carried the whole thing into the cabin, kicked the door closed behind her, and walked to the table. By the time she sat, her mouth had already started to water. Under the lids lay a dish with cold meats, a selection of cheeses, and a baguette with butter. A bowl held slices of melon, pineapple, and strawberries. She poured herself a glass of iced tea and tore into the food.
The ham and turkey breast were lightly smoked, the cheese tangy, and the bread a crusty dream. She’d never eaten anything so delicious in her life. After just a minute, she’d eaten the whole thing. Fruit next. Juices ran down her arm as she ate all of that too. How did they get so much flavor into the food here? Steroids? Pheromones? All the food gone, she pushed the plates aside, picked up the newspaper, and rested back in the chair to read it.
New York Times
, international edition. Perfect. On the culture page, the headline read “Pre-Raphaelite show opens today at the Hollowel.” How could that be? The show didn’t start until tomorrow.
She checked the dateline -- tomorrow’s date. What the hell? The date across the front page said the same thing -- tomorrow. So did the date function on her watch. Today was tomorrow. Time had warped somehow. Either that, or she’d slept for an entire day.
Could she have slept that long? That would explain the full bladder, the cottony mouth, and the fact that she appeared to have woken up half an hour before she’d fallen asleep. After years of too little sleep, she was used to functioning on an hour or two. She never slept for twenty-four hours. For the first time in ages, she felt completely rested.
This was getting too fucking weird.
She got up, walked to the door, and opened it to look outside.
Whoa. There was a whole lot more than just time weirdness going on. She’d somehow missed it the day before -- probably because she’d been so cheesed at being dumped in the middle of nowhere -- but the view from the cabin was the same as the seascape from the DeLande painting. The same white sand and transparent water. The same lush jungle with colorful flowers.
She stepped out of her cabin into the Twilight Zone and walked along the path, down to the beach. Warm sand shifted under her feet as she walked to the water’s edge, and a light breeze ruffled the hairs on her arms.
As she watched, a disturbance appeared between the waves. Sort of a lump that rose under the water. It crested after a moment to reveal a person. A man walking straight out of the water as though he’d walked there along the ocean bottom. Broad shoulders, a massive chest. Un-freaking-believable. The Sea God, the man from the painting. She rubbed her eyes, but when she lowered her hands, the image was still there, standing in water that just reached his calves. Sure enough, he sported the same huge hard-on he had in the painting.
Her jaw dropped as she stood there staring at his cock. She ought to scream. She ought to run back into the cabin, throw the lock, and call security to report a lunatic on her island. A lunatic with an enormous boner. But no force on earth could get her feet to move. The sand might have turned into concrete for all the chance she had of walking in it.
“Who…” The word came out as a croak, so she swallowed and tried again. “Who in hell are you?”
The man put his hands on his hips and smiled at her. “I’m your sponsor.”
“You’re my sponsor?” Great, now she was squeaking. “But, you’re…”
He lifted a shaggy eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Naked and aroused. I thought we’d mate first and talk later.”
Mate. She’d marveled at the size of his member when she’d seen it in the painting. At the time, she’d never imagined she could actually experience taking pleasure with it. In the back of her brain, images exploded. Indistinct and lacking in details, but powerfully erotic. Hands on her breasts. Her body riding on waves while the water massaged her clit. A huge phallus entering her.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “I dreamed those. While I was asleep.”
“You got my messages.”
She opened her eyes again. “You put those dreams into my mind?”
“Promises of what I’d do to you. Images to excite you. Did they work?”
Too well. Gloria’s cunt clenched as a surge of energy washed through her. All her breath went out of her, and her knees went weak. She hadn’t had a man for months. Hadn’t wanted one or missed sex. This man asked to mate with her. He could take that cock and do everything she’d dreamed of the night before. He could give her orgasms strong enough to tear her from reality. Weeks and weeks of doing without, and now she could indulge her senses.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.
“The images did excite you.”
“Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but I don’t jump into bed with strangers.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but it sounded good. She hadn’t jumped into bed with anyone for an age, but she could sure do it now with this man and the erection she’d seen in her dreams. Maybe they really did put pheromones in the food, because her cunt was already moist and ready for him.
“I don’t plan on taking you to bed,” he said.
“Bed’s too far. I’m going to make love to you right on this beach.”
“Won’t that scare the fish?”
“I hope so.”
The man walked toward her slowly, as if she might bolt at any minute. Any sane person would. Most women never encountered a naked man walking up and out of the sea as though his cock was some kind of homing device zeroing in on her. Most women would have run away minutes ago. But, damn it all, she’d dreamed about that cock the night before, and it had driven her wild. Now that she could have it, she sure as hell would.
He stopped a few feet from her and gestured with his hand. Her clothes fell away. The seams split, and the fabric of her dress and half-slip slid along her body to fall at her feet. Her bra and panties dissolved, leaving her completely naked. The sun beat down on her shoulders and breasts. The breeze caressed her skin, and her nipples hardened into peaks.
“How did you do that?” she demanded.
He smiled at her. “It’s not important.”
“How did you come out of the ocean like that? Where’s your scuba gear?”
His eyebrows went up. “Scuba?”
“Self-contained something or other.”
He made another gesture with his hands, and a large blanket appeared on the sand. “Will that do for a bed?”
This was all getting too strange. She picked up a corner of the blanket. It seemed real enough.
“A few cushions, perhaps?” he said, and some of those materialized on the blanket. “I don’t care, really. I just don’t want sand in awkward places.”
She skirted around their “bed,” holding out her hands to ward him off. “Maybe you ought to rethink this. I mean, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. I might have a disease.”
“But you don’t.”
“How do you know?”
He walked around the blanket toward her, but she countered his move.
“I know everything about you, Gloria.”
“I’m your mate.”
She stopped and stared at him. “You’re nuts.”
“Not at all. I’ve researched a lot of women, and you’re the one.”
He moved toward her again, his arms extended, but she danced away.
“I know everything about you,” he said. “I know your hair is really red, not black. I know you cry at sad movies. Most important, I know you’re so hot right now, you’re ready to come.”
Damn, he was right. He frightened her, and she wanted him. He might be a lunatic, but she was going to screw him. Right here on this blanket on the beach.
“You’ve been staring at my cock ever since I walked out of the water. Admit it.”
“I could hardly miss it,” she answered.
“It’s all yours. Every way you want it.”
Her mouth went dry, and her breath caught. She had to have a raging case of hormones. She’d wanted his cock since it showed up in the painting, to be totally honest. Now, she could have it, so why was she playing musical chairs with him?
Her hesitation gave him enough time to lunge across the blanket and grab her. He picked her up as though she weighed no more than kindling, let out a whoop, and twirled her around. Images blurred -- sky followed by ocean followed by jungle and then back to sky. Her skin rubbed against him, and her nipples grazed his chest. He was so incredibly strong she ought to be afraid. She ought to scream and kick and bite. Her heart raced and her pulse pounded, but fear didn’t cause any of that. She wanted this man. She wanted him to toss her onto the blanket and plow into her until she climaxed.
He did drop her onto their “bed” and came down right on top of her like an avalanche of flesh. Oddly enough, he didn’t crush her, but he did cover her, his body swallowing hers up.
He kissed her then. His mouth descended to hers and caught her lips in a searing caress. She slid her arms around his neck and answered with her own mouth. Their tongues met and sparred while his hands roamed over her ribs. She twisted her hips and rolled him onto his back. He’d let her do that, of course, but damn -- what a feeling of power it gave her to command his body that way. She sat up and ran her hands all over his chest. His chest hairs felt like silk under her palms.
He grinned and cupped her breasts with his huge hands, massaging and squeezing them. The sensitive flesh ached and tingled, and she gasped with the pleasure. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes while she made her hands into fists, clutching his chest hair.
“More, damn it,” she said. “More, more.”
He raised his head to take one nipple into his mouth. While he sucked, she whimpered and pressed herself against his face. Her cunt throbbed and grew wetter. The sensations were even more powerful than her dreams. Impossible, but true. Nothing in her life had ever felt like this, and soon he’d enter her, making the pleasure even more intense.
She squirmed against him, moving lower on his body until her buttocks encountered the hard length of his erection. While he moved to tease her other breast, she reached behind her and grasped his cock. It felt like sun-heated velvet under her palm. She grasped it and stroked it, rubbing it over her buttocks.
He growled and rolled them over. “You want me.”
She pounded on his shoulder with her fist. “I want you. Fuck me.”
“Damn you, fuck me.”
He parted her legs with his hand and thrust a finger deep inside her. “How much?”
She arched her back and moaned. “Please, please. Fuck me.”
He slid a second finger into her and moved them in and out. Moisture spread over her inner thighs as he pumped her. She was aching, burning, ready to burst out of her skin.
“How much do you want my cock?” he said.
“Fuck me. Please, please. I’m begging you.”
He removed his hand, placed himself between her legs, and plunged his massive member into her. She cried out and wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips to embed him as deep inside her as he could go.
“Woman,” he said. “You’re tight.”
“You’re huge,” she answered. “Don’t stop.”
“Damn, it feels good.” He moved in and out of her in long, hard strokes. She kept pace with him, straining upward, taking him over and over. This was hotter than any dream, more erotic than any fantasy. Urgent, dangerous, irresistible. She floated on a sea of lust while he touched her every nerve. Her spirit soared, just moments away from orgasm.
“Come for me, mate. Give yourself to me.”
“Yes!” The climax hit with the force of a hurricane. It stole her breath and stopped her heart as she flew into little pieces. Her sex exploded in one spasm after another. She shrieked, riding the storm until the climax finally ended.
Overhead, birds took flight on flapping wings, some crying with alarm. She lay spent on the blanket and would have laughed if she’d had the energy. They hadn’t scared the fish, but they’d done a number on the birds.
The man rested his head next to hers and chuckled. “You sure can come, mate.”
“I’ve never done it quite like that before.”
“Enjoying your vacation?”
He withdrew a few inches and then surged forward again.
She opened her eyes and looked into his face. “You’re still hard?”
He grinned at her. “I’m not through with you yet.”
Oh. My. God. He hadn’t finished? He wanted to give her more? If she hadn’t been lying down, she would have fallen over.
“You do plan to come at some point, don’t you?” she asked.
“I’m going to erupt like Vesuvius.”
“I’d like to see that.” Watching a massive cock like his spew had to be an experience.
“You will, later. Right now, I think you need another orgasm.”
Her throat went dry, but her pussy sure didn’t. He moved inside her, and she felt the hunger growing again. Amazing.
“A different way this time, I think.” He pulled out of her and rolled off. The ocean breeze washed over her sweat-slicked body while the sun bathed her in warmth.
“Kneel here and look out to sea,” he said.
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing exotic. Unless you want me to.”
“Regular will do.” She smiled. “For now.”
He laughed and sat up. She scrambled to her knees and looked out over the ocean as he’d told her. He positioned himself behind her, doggie-style, and slid the tip of his sex into her.
“Mmmm,” she crooned. “That feels so good.”
He pushed forward, giving her another few inches. She took him easily. Despite his size, she’d grown that slick. She rocked back against him, taking more of his cock inside her. He moaned and surged forward, filling her.
She breathed in sea air and listened to the surf as he thrust into her from behind. He set a rhythm that resonated with the waves on the shore. Powerful and inevitable. Her breasts hung free, swinging as she met his thrusts with backward movements of her own. Though not as frantic as their first coupling, this seemed just as intimate. She could feel every inch of him, sense his trembling as his own passion built. The universe centered where they were joined with his cock deep inside her sensitized cunt. She whimpered as liquid heat pooled in her belly to signal another orgasm. He’d driven her that close again.
He bent and reached around her waist, seeking her pussy with his fingers. When he found it, he parted the lips to tease her clit. She shuddered and moaned with the intensity of the caress. He kept doing that while his cock kept plundering her. The combination went so far beyond anything she’d ever experienced she could scarcely breathe. Tension coiled in her belly, tightening until it was almost unbearable. She was going to come, with him pounding into her. She was going to dissolve into mindless orgasm.
He thrust deeper and rubbed harder. She gasped, crying out as her pussy spasmed around his member. The climax lasted forever, rocking her to her core, and still, he thrust into her.
After a moment, he grasped her hips and pulled her hard against him while he pounded into her a few more times. Massive, violent surges. He let out a roar and buried himself in her to the hilt as he came. Finally, he fell to his side on the blanket and pulled her against him, her back to his chest.
“I was right,” he murmured after a moment.
“You’re the one.”
“The one what?”
She rolled over and looked into his face. “You said that before. What’s it supposed to mean?”
“What it sounds like. I’m going to spend the rest of eternity with you.”
“I’m here for a week, pal.” Six more days, actually, as she’d already slept one day away. “This was good. We can do it again if you want.”
“Good?” he said. “It was a lot more than good.”
“All right, it was fantastic, but after a week, I’m heading back to New York.”
“But, I don’t want to live in New York.”
“Did anyone invite you to?”
He stroked a finger down her nose. “Mates live together, mate.”
She pulled away and sat up. “Stop calling me that.”
“What should I call you?”
“My name, maybe?”
He stretched out on his back and put his hands behind his head. “Gloria.”
“How do you know that, anyway?”
“I know everything about you.”
“So you said.”
“You were born in Wharton’s Bend, Idaho, and graduated first in your class of thirty-seven students. You can’t stand caviar, and your hair is really red and curly.”
“Who wants to eat fish eggs?”
“Why do you do that to your hair, anyway? Black doesn’t go with your skin, and it sticks out all over the place.”
She reached up and touched her hair. “You think?”
He smiled and shrugged.
Wait a minute. She didn’t have to listen to his critique of her appearance. He’d walked out of the ocean and given her a good shtupping, but he didn’t own her.
“Who are you, anyway?” she said. “And don’t tell me you’re my mate again.”
“I’ve had a lot of different names over the years. You’d only recognize a few of them.”
“The Greeks called me Poseidon, the Maya call me a
. The fellow who did the portrait of me you liked so much called me the Sea God.”
“Did you doctor that painting?” she asked.
“I might have.” His grin grew outright smug. “I didn’t lie about my dimensions, though, did I?”