What She Craves. Lacy Danes
in front of Emma. She picked up the kettle, poured the steamy clear liquid into a bowl, and stirred.
“My guests.” She waved her hand in the air. “The time for preparing has arrived. Come now and drink my brew.”
“Come.” Her host held out his hand and she stood.
“What is the brew?” Hannah whispered to the blond god who she now stood beside.
“It is a kind of tea.”
“Tea?”
“Yes. To relax you.” A hot finger pushed a curl of her black hair from her face, and she bit her lip at the gentle caress.
“You mean for the blood drinking,” she said, half in jest.
“Yes.” He smiled. “Precisely.”
Hannah approached the man kneeling before Emma, who held out the bowl. The man stared only at the floor. His shoulder, round and muscled, held the tray with ease. How odd that a man would put himself in such a position. To be…a servant? He served Emma and the guests in a primitive form. Like what she imagined a Greek goddess might have owned ages ago before tea carts and clothes. She stared at the human tea cart again. She would take a naked man instead of cold wood any day.
Gripping the bowl in her hands, Hannah raised the brew and inhaled the spicy-sweet scent. The clear liquid smelled of basil and raspberries.
She placed the rim to her lips.
“Take a good swallow,” Emma said.
She drank, the horribly hot fluid flooded her mouth, and her lips puckered at the tangy rancid flavor. Yuck. Her tongue pressed the roof of her mouth, working to expel the liquid, but she managed to swallow. Shuddering, she turned to the next woman, who grabbed the bowl from her hands.
“Good girl,” Emma said.
Hannah tried to smile as her throat tingled. What did she just drink?
“Come,” her escort said. “We will venture to the ballroom.”
“How awful a tea.” Her hand covered her mouth as her stomach rumbled.
“I know. Worse than blood.” His lip quirked.
“Oh good, I hoped blood would taste better.” She grinned.
“Much. You will start to feel the effects soon.”
Leaving the room, he availed himself of a candle from the table before the door. They entered the hall, and she wanted to run ahead to the ballroom, to find Kenny and start turning this night from strange to wonderful.
Her heart beat wildly in anticipation as they entered the ballroom. Warm light poured around a black curtain hung two paces inside the room. She couldn’t see a thing beyond that drape, but Kenny would be there. She was certain.
The smell of sweet smoke filled the air, and her body hummed. Warmth seeped into her veins in a wave of tingles that caressed her muscles and dewed her sex. How wonderfully delicious a sensation, yet strange. Surely her nipples peaked hard beneath her robe because of the brew. Her mind slid into a slight haze and the room spun. She clutched at the hard male arm beneath her fingers, and her breath hitched.
“This way, Armetis.”
He pushed her against the wall and dropped to his knees, pressing his lips to her stockinged leg as if worshipping her. Waves of pleasure pulsed through her. His hands clasped her slippered foot and slid her shoe from it, then he placed her foot on the cold tile floor. Her muscles jumped as iciness crept up her leg. His lips moved against her thigh and heat spread down to her toes. Knees shaking, her hand slid into his hair, gripping his head for support.
“What…What are you about?”
“Preparing you.” His lips curved against her flesh.
“Oh, it is delightful.”
“You may wear only a robe and mask. Nothing more.”
She nodded and leaned her head back against the wall as he raised his hands and undid her garters. Delicate caresses slid her stockings from her body, and her muscles bunched as she groaned.
“How do you like the brew now?”
“Mmmm.”
Moist kisses slid their way up her naked legs to the apex of her thighs. Placing his lips to her curls, his tongue slid out along her slit and back in one slow lick.
“Oh!” She closed her eyes, her sex clenching.
“Anything you wish of me, you need only to ask.” He stood.
I want you to tongue me. No, I want to lick you. Her face grew hot and she nodded. What a wanton she was.
“This way.” He offered her his arm and escorted her to the edge of the curtain.
Naked flesh, both male and female, was everywhere. She glimpsed a breast with a rosy nipple peaked as a man cupped the mound—her breast swelled at the sight—then a bare shoulder blade and a bare ass. Her body tingled everywhere her gaze rested, the images emblazoned in her memory in short little bursts. It was beautiful. Mesmerizing and like nothing she ever dreamed of seeing or feeling in her life. She wet her lips.
From the ceiling hung swaths of dark cloth, which made the room more confined. Along the far wall, more cloth hung to create compartments that housed low mattresses strewn with silken colored pillows. Men and women lounged about the beds, drinking wine and smoking what she imagined were hookahs. Her heart sped and her nipples pebbled hard as she imagined Kenny’s hands caressing her on that mat. Her body trembling as her slit dripped, and he pushed into her. Other faceless hands caressed her. What a scandalous thought.
This room was an erotic, exciting, fantasy world. Masked, one could do and be anyone they wished—the hunter or the prey. She would be bold, strong, erotic, a seductress. Yes. She would do what her body and mind wished without the social strictures society demanded of a female. She would learn what men desired. She would please them.
Her blond god’s fingers tickled her palm; delicious gooseflesh raced across her skin and she shivered. She needed to know what to call him.
“Umm, who shall you be?” Hannah asked.
“Call me Timothy,” he said, and turned her to wander the room. “Prey to all things beautiful.” He smiled.
Prey to me. She could be his huntress. Or his prey.
“There is more to see. Any pleasure you might wish can be found here. What are your deepest desires, Artemis?”
My deepest desires? No one had ever asked her that. Kenny. She wanted Kenny. Kenny possessed a power she didn’t understand. When he touched her, her body did things, felt things, she only dreamed of.
Yes, that was her desire, to pleasure him, to prove Simon wrong.
Her feelings were foolish; she should be running in the opposite direction, but she couldn’t. Rake or not, she wanted his hard prick to sink into her. To writhe beneath him and coat his penis with her juices as he spilled his seed into her womb. She wanted to experience all of this night with him. Touching him, pleasuring him.
He would surely be here—she glanced around the room—somewhere.
“Let me show you what is offered. You may find a delight you fancy.”
Ugh. Kenneth reached up and ran his hands through his hair. The sharp pain in his head beat a tattoo against his skull. What the hell? He moved his tongue and dry flesh scraped against teeth. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut.
A drug of some sort caused this. One glass of wine never did this to him. He rolled to his side, his muscles aching in protest, and slit his eyes open.
Shit. Pitch-black stood beyond his window. What the hell time was it?
He struggled to sit up. His muscles resisted and lagged in response. Bloody hell. Straining, he flung his legs