Planetary Passions 6: Double Trouble (Gemini) Page 6

  Fiona tucked her arm through his. “Well, I don’t think your motives are exactly pure, but I sure wouldn’t want to be confined to my home. But then, when I said I wanted to be an archeologist, people wondered why I didn’t want to get married instead. Not that it was a difficult choice, because no one asked me to marry them.”

  “I am glad they did not. I would have to fight them or trick them to get to you, because I am determined to have you.”

  Her heart did a little flutter. “You’re very sweet.”

  His look told her he didn’t know what she was talking about. She decided to say nothing more and just enjoy walking next to a tall, delicious man with beautiful black eyes who wanted to be with her.

  “When did you begin to believe me?” Cas asked. They reached the end of the street and turned into a narrower lane, replete with shadows.

  “Hmm?”

  “When we first appeared in your bed, you did not believe we were demigods from your vessel. Why do you now?”

  She thought a moment, twining her fingers more firmly around his forearm.

  “I don’t know, really. I figured if you want to say you’re demigods from 500 B.C.E., why shouldn’t I let you? Either you’re telling the truth and believing you is the least I can do, or you’re making it up as a joke, in which case, who am I to stand in the way of your fun?”

  He slanted a smile at her that was full of promise. “It sounds very logical.”

  “Yes, it does to me too. I think. Why are we here?”

  Cas had led her around another corner into a sheltered walkway between streets. It had been turned into a strip of hidden garden with a latticed roof laced with vines and roses, a gravel walkway, more vines on the walls, high where they could reach the sun, and wooden benches.

  “Why do you think?” he said, then he kissed her, a full-blown assault this time.

  His tongue reached deep into her mouth, possessing it, telling her firmly, You are mine. He tasted incredibly sweet, the rich dark wine he’d drunk mellow and soft on her tongue. She twined her arms around his neck, liking having someone want her so much.

  The kiss was hard and demanding, his mouth opening hers, lips bruising. Fiona had never really believed women sighed in surrender—it was only what she read in romance novels—but her knees weakened and she let out a moan that was pure surrender. She’d wave a white flag if she had one.

  “Fiona,” he whispered as he moved his mouth to her cheek, her forehead, her chin. His shoulders bunched as he kissed her throat, his kisses including little licks that sent shock waves through her body.

  “What if someone comes?” Her voice was weak, as though she couldn’t think why she was protesting at all.

  “What if they do?” He smiled, breath hot on her face. “What if they see you, beautiful Fiona, and me loving you?” He slid his hand into her blouse and began to undo buttons.

  “No, really, it’s a public walkway.”

  He led her a few feet down the path to the shadows next to a bench. “Better?”

  “No.”

  “Let them watch.” He kissed her parted lips, darted his tongue inside, then evaded her when she tried to kiss him back. “Do you like being watched?”

  “No. I don’t know. I never have been.”

  He pried open more buttons, working his way down her shirt. Cool air touched her breasts which swelled over her sensible white bra. He touched the top seam, fingertip brushing her skin. “I want this off. How does it work?”

  “In the back.”

  She reached behind herself but Cas slid his hand inside her shirt and began to work at the clasps.

  A demigod from ancient Greece shouldn’t know how to undo bra hooks, she thought, and he didn’t. He played with them for a long time before they finally burst free.

  “Did your other lovers never display you?” Cas asked as he eased her shirt and bra from her shoulders. Both garments hung from her lower arms, and she froze, her breasts exposed to outside air for the first time in her life. “Did they never show others how beautiful you were?”

  Stunned surprise chased shock then amusement through her brain. “Hardly. Charles, my boyfriend in grad school, didn’t even want to display me to himself. He always kept the light off.”

  “Perhaps he had something to hide,” Cas suggested. “There is no reason to conceal this beauty.”

  He traced his fingers over the sides of her breasts then to her areolas, which were already hard and tight for him.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” Could she sound any more wistful?

  “What I think does not matter. Your beauty is a fact.”

  She shivered hard, so wanting to believe him. No one had ever called Fiona McCarty, Ph.D., dusty archaeology postdoc, beautiful.

  “I think you’re flattering me so you can get into my pants,” she said, then she blushed, remembering the taverna and Cas pressed behind her. “No wait, you already got into my pants.”

  “Every moment of this afternoon was unforgettable. I want more.”

  “You make me want you too.”

  “Good.” He drew out the word, breathing into her hair.

  “I don’t trust myself,” she whispered as she slid her hands around his neck.

  “Then trust me.”

  She closed her eyes, already knowing she wasn’t going to fight. Don’t lose your heart, Fiona, she chided herself. He showed up out of nowhere and he’ll take what he wants and disappear back to nowhere, leaving you in the dust. It’s what happens with gorgeous men like him.

  Yes, but gorgeous men like him never happen to me.

  She had no intentions of pushing him away. She kissed him as he went back to swirling his fingers around her areolas. If he was going to leave her in the dust, why shouldn’t she enjoy the heck out of him first? She’d go in with no expectations. Expectations were what got you hurt.

  No way could she push him away anyway. Her entire body was on fire, cream ran rampant between her legs and he was so strong.

  Cas sat on the bench and pulled her to stand between his thighs. This made it easier for him to tilt his head and close his lips over her nipple. Fiona groaned and let her head drop back, thrusting herself farther into his mouth.

  He suckled her, a sensation of both pleasure and pain. Her old boyfriend had occasionally played with her nipples while they had sex, but with Charles it had been pinch, pinch, thrust, thrust, done, and her lying there wondering what had happened.

  Cas took his sweet time. He gave all his attention to her breast with lips and tongue and teeth and fingers, until her body heated to unbearable temperatures. As if sensing she was pushing the limit, Cas released her. Just as she drew a breath of mixed disappointment and relief, he switched to her left breast.

  She murmured something incomprehensible even to herself and swirled her fingers through his black hair. She loved the feel of it, thick and silky, rampant with curls.

  He moved his tongue around her left nipple, playing until it stood up as much as the right. Then he switched back and forth, sucking one, nipping the other, flicking his tongue over the first one, rubbing fingers gently over the second.

  He was doing a good job driving her crazy. She rocked on the balls of her feet, her thighs wet and scalding with cream, wanting him. “Please, Cas.”

  “I’ll let you release in a moment. Not yet.”

  “Why not?” she whimpered.

  “I have not finished. I’ll help you release when I’m ready.”

  “Please, please, please,” she begged.

  “When I am ready.”

  He went back to pleasuring her breasts. Her shirt sagged open, and he drew his tongue, a streak of fire, down to massage her navel. He went lower, as far as he could before running into her shirt and the waistband of her shorts.

  He put his fingers under the waistband and slid the button through the hole. Fiona shivered in excitement, wishing he’d go on and thrust his fingers inside her like he had this afternoon.

  She remembered the
heat of his body behind her and his fingers moving through her slick opening, fucking her with his hand while she held onto the incredible heat of Pol’s cock. It had been the loveliest experience of her life.

  To her disappointment, Cas stopped at unbuttoning the waistband and sat back away from her. Before she could voice her sorrow, he grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it off over his head.

  She closed her mouth on her words and simply admired the moonlight on Cas. His torso, as she’d noted the night before, had sharply defined muscles, a shadowed hollow between the pectorals, and hard shoulders. Hair curled over his chest, black and wiry, his male nipples in perfect proportion. Dreamily, Fiona touched one nipple, happy to see it draw to a peak as tight as hers did.

  “Do you like that?” she asked, a bit surprised.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “That is your answer.” He stood up and draped his shirt over the backless wooden bench. “Lie down.”

  This was getting out of hand. They were both half-undressed and this was still a public place.

  But did she button up her shirt, tell him no and sensibly walk away? Of course not. She obediently plopped to the bench and swung her legs up to lie full length on it.

  Cas unzipped her shorts and tugged them and underwear down her legs, releasing her right leg from them so that the fabric bunched around her left ankle. He pressed her thighs apart, making her straddle the bench.

  “Perfect,” he said, then he positioned himself between her thighs and kissed her quim.

  No man had ever done that. A few men had wanted to, but Fiona had always felt shy about letting them see her private places, not sure she’d like it and fearing they wouldn’t.

  Cas didn’t bother asking. He kissed her clit then worked kisses down to her opening, breath hot on her folds, whiskers abrading the soft flesh of her thighs. She squirmed and arched, begging with her body for him to do more and more.

  The shirt beneath her softened the bench, containing warmth from his skin and Cas’ heady scent.

  Cas licked her, his tongue masterful. Her excitement spiraled and built, and suddenly she came, moaning into the night.

  She pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, and Cas continued to torture her. He licked and played, delving his tongue deeper as she arched into him, and she prayed her noise wouldn’t cause someone to hear and investigate. How embarrassing to have to explain an arrest for indecent exposure to Dr. Wheelan.

  Cas raised his head and smiled at her, holding her down with both hands. “The torment of Aphrodite,” he said. “She made sure that women would have the greatest of all pleasures.” He touched the spot that in Latin was called the mons Venus—Aphrodite was Venus in the Greek.

  Aphrodite had done her job. Fiona gasped and groaned, tears leaking from her eyes.

  Cas at last withdrew his fingers, but the fever still hummed through her body. She felt happy and strong and ready for sex.

  Instead of continuing to the next step, Cas lifted her and settled her in his lap. She tilted her head back to kiss him and the kiss went on, long and deep and taking.

  She heard gravel crunch suddenly on the path. She gasped and broke the kiss. “Someone was watching.”

  Cas smoothed his hand through her hair. Her shirt sagged and her shorts were still wrapped around one leg, her breasts and quim exposed to the air.

  “What if they were?” Cas whispered. “You are beautiful and gave them a lovely show.”

  “Terrific. Just what I always dreamed of.”

  “You should not be ashamed.” His lips grazed her temple, breath burning. “Being watched turns me on in a big way. So does watching.”

  “It does?”

  “Watching a woman pleasure herself is a heady thing. You learn exactly what she likes and exactly what brings her to ecstasy.”

  Fiona shivered, imagining his intense black gaze riveted to her while she dipped her fingers into her own quim. “Oh my,” she said.

  “Do it now.”

  Fiona turned to stare at him. He wore a smile on his lips, but his eyes held raw need.

  “Now?”

  He pushed her gently from his lap, and she landed shakily on her feet. “Now. Touch yourself for me, Fiona. I will warn you if anyone comes.”

  She didn’t quite believe him, and she wondered if she had heard someone on the path before. It might have been a bird or animal, and in spite of the dark excitement flowing through her, she hoped so.

  Cas wanted her to touch herself while he sat on the bench and watched. Dear gods. He expected it. He folded his arms across his chest, muscles playing, a slight breeze ruffling his hair as he waited.

  Boldly, Fiona kicked off her shorts and set them on the bench. Her shirt and bra still hung from her arms but she left them there. The feel of the cotton loose against her skin aroused her, making her feel naughty.

  She stuck her forefinger into her mouth and drew it out slowly, then she did what she’d never done in her life—probed her fingertip through her own folds.

  She was wet and hot and her quim was tight. She’d never known. She’d lived with her femaleness all her life but she’d never explored or appreciated it.

  Cas’ raw, hot gaze helped her juices flow faster, wetting her fingers with scalding liquid. She’d come in her underwear before, but she’d never felt the honey with her hands, never touched the hard nub that released all her fantasies.

  The pictures in her mind when she touched herself were incredible. First was Cas as he was, watching her. Next was herself kneeling before him, sucking him into her mouth with enthusiasm. Then she thought of him behind her on his knees, easing that huge cock into her while she screamed and writhed.

  She put Pol in the shadows, watching with the same intense gaze Cas had now. And then she had Pol kneel in front of her, his cock heavy and long, bumping her lips until she pulled him into her mouth.

  The last picture made her moan with longing. She pressed her hands hard against herself, legs parted, cream all over her fingers. She loved it, loved it, loved it.

  Cas rose and came to her. He swiftly pulled her against him, his body almost assaulting her. He let her rub her wet quim over his jeans, making her orgasm go on and on.

  Hot and sweet and rough, oh gods, I love this.

  Cas’ hands covered her buttocks as she writhed against his thick thigh. His mouth came down hard on hers, his tongue all over the place inside her as he caught her cries.

  “Cas,” she said, her voice ragged. “Do you want to—go all the way?”

  “All the way? You mean fuck?”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s what I mean.”

  To her surprise and embarrassment, he shook his head. “Not yet, my love. Not because I don’t want you, but because you must be ready.”

  “But…” She gulped for air. “I just let you lick me, and then I took off my shorts and played with myself for you—in a public garden.”

  “I know. And it was beautiful.”

  “I think it means I’m ready.”

  “Not yet.” He held her hard, the hot friction of his jeans almost as satisfying as his tongue. She rocked a few more times, enjoying the fire.

  “You like this?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  She continued to pleasure herself on him, amazed at herself. It felt so good to move against his powerful muscles, hearing him grunt softy as he held her with hard fingers.

  “You are beautiful, Fiona.”

  She was coming again, but the only thing that would satisfy her, deeply satisfy her, was having him inside her. She remembered the pressure of his fingers in her quim and the feeling of his long cock pressed against her ass.

  Fiona wanted that cock deep inside her and she wanted it now.

  But he wouldn’t give it to her now. She had the feeling that no matter how much she begged, he would have sex with her only when he decided it was time.

  She wished it would be time quickly.

  As her orgasm died
away into little gasps, Cas lifted her in his arms then sat down on the bench and arranged her in his lap.

  “You are the sweetest woman,” he whispered against her hair. “You taste sweet and watching you come is delectable.”

  “I want to taste you.” She touched his jaw and kissed his lips.

  Cas laughed softly and gently lifted her shirt and bra over her shoulders again.

  “I am forever grateful to you, Fiona. You have lessened the sadness of leaving behind all I knew. I missed so much, but now I have you.” He returned her kiss with a deep one of his own, then he pushed her to her feet. “I have much to teach you, but later.”

  Fiona found herself standing in front of him bare-assed, shirt unbuttoned, scrutinized by his appreciative gaze. Her entire body was crying out for sex, and he knew it, if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

  She took up her shorts and underwear from the bench. “When?” She hoped she didn’t sound too eager and horny and needy and pathetic.

  He lifted his shirt and pulled it on over his head. “We will have other opportunities for play.” His smile turned dark. “I promise you. Now let us return to find Pol.”

  “Pol?” She started. “I thought you wanted me all to yourself.”

  He chuckled and gave her another searing kiss. “I do. But I am thirsty, and where we find wine, we will also find Pol.”

  He graciously gave her time to put on and zip up her shorts, then he slid his arm firmly around her shoulders and led her back out into Athens.

  Chapter Six

  When they reached the archaeological compound again that night, Fiona found the twins an empty bedroom and told them they had to sleep there.

  Pol gave her a glance filled with sin. “But we want to sleep with you, goddess. You saved us, and we are devoted to you.”

  “Yes, but if anyone finds out we shared a single bed, I’ll lose my job. Postdocs to the Athenian Agora aren’t handed out to just anyone, and I work my butt off for it.”

  Both twins turned their gazes to her backside, looking appreciative.

  “I think it is still there,” Pol said.