[Atlantean's Quest 03] Redemption (4 page)

She was his.

As the pulsing inside her slowed, Coridan pulled himself away. He stood quickly, ripping at the ties of his loincloth with one hand and holding her with the other. His massive cock sprang free. It took mere seconds for him to position the plum-like head at her entrance and drive home, sinking his aching flesh in all the way to his balls. The woman shrieked, coming hard again. Her body convulsed around him, drenching his cock in new wetness, as he began to grind his hips against her heart-shaped ass.

Her pussy clutched him, drawing him deeper, refusing to release him from its moist grip. Not that Coridan wanted to go anywhere. He closed his eyes, inhaling the exotic aroma that emanated from her body, relishing the slide of her warm skin against his chest, honing in on the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Coridan decided this experience was as close as he’d ever get to meeting the Goddess in the flesh.

Little mewing noises came from her throat, encouraging him without words. He drove hard inside her, lifting her feet from the floor as he speared deep, nudging her womb. He wanted to make this moment as memorable for her as it was going to be for him. Coridan fought the urge to mark her, but the need was too powerful. He leaned over, gathering her tender flesh between his teeth at the curve of her neck and began to suck, drawing at her soft tissue. Thrust for thrust, he matched the pull of his mouth with his cock. She whimpered, her knees trembling, threatening to give out.

Coridan reached around her once more, one hand supporting her at the waist while the other found her clit. It only took a flick of his nail for her to shatter, her pussy slamming down around him like a vise, sending him spiraling in her wake.

He bellowed as his fluids pumped out of his body in an endless milky stream. Coridan opened his eyes and jerked upright, his hand still gripping his cock. Drenched in sweat, he blinked as the jungle around him came into focus. The fragrance of orchids perfumed the night air, along with the musky odor of sex. He groaned and released his shaft, fisting his hands in frustration. It had all been a dream. The woman was gone, taking with her the best fuck of his life.

He fell back onto the ferns, his breathing still ragged. In his mind, he knew she was not real, yet his body refused to accept that fact. Her skin had felt as soft as feathers to the touch, while at the same time her flesh practically scalded him from the heat contained within. The silk of her sunshine scented hair had caressed his face in loving strokes, causing his flat disc-like nipples to bead.

Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about the mysterious woman again. To his embarrassment, he had been so motivated by lust that he hadn’t bothered stealing a glance at the woman’s features. She could be a toothless, shrivel-faced hag for all he knew, not that it would have mattered to him one way or the other at this point. Coridan knew he would gladly sacrifice beauty for the kind of connection he’d had with the woman in his dream.

If only she were real and not a figment of his imagination…

* * * * *

Ariel lay upon the bed of furs, her mind calculating her chances of escape. It would be easier if Coridan was alive, not that she expected to be rescued, but it would certainly help in the fight. She felt fevered and it was difficult to concentrate with the Atlantean heat coursing through her body like a chariot of fire.

Raoul and Santo hadn’t returned since the professor interrupted their little pleasure session. Not that she truly cared. They couldn’t satisfy her, only Coridan could. Unfortunately, she couldn’t allow that to happen with her people counting on her.

Fear sliced through her as she considered the fact that he might be dead. Her body trembled, unable to accept that as even a remote possibility. There was no way a dead man set off her hormones like this. Coridan had to be alive and well somewhere. It was just a matter of reaching him telepathically. If her first theory was correct and he could sense her pheromones, then there was a real good chance that he was on his way.

Her body grew restless at the thought of taking in his massive cock. Ariel tried to ignore the ache within her womb. She needed that man or at least her body thought she did, and it demanded she listen. Ariel imagined him standing before her naked, his glorious cock rising to attention under her hungry gaze. Her mouth watered at the thought of wrapping her lips around his shaft and sucking, until she could taste his salty fluids and feel his spray as he came in her mouth and down her throat.

She groaned and licked her parched lips. Her nipples throbbed and beaded, demanding to be suckled and stroked. Ariel felt as if she’d explode, if she weren’t able to gain release soon. The fur beneath her bottom tickled her anus, causing her pussy to weep with need. The feelings were strange, alien, like she’d awakened inside a cocoon and had finally broken free. She inhaled deeply, slowly releasing the air from her lungs. The exhalation glowed gold in the dim lighting. No! She blinked, to try to clear her vision, yet the gold remained.

Ariel gasped. Seers were able to experience the energy bind that bonded Atlantean women to their mates!

Goddess Bless!

She had to pull herself together. Fight this need with all of her power. Night had fallen on the jungle like a thick blanket, shrouding all who dwelled within its lush realm. The red-devil would come for her first thing in the morning to begin his interrogation. She had no doubt this was true.

Ariel tested her bonds once more. The vines chaffed her skin, causing her flesh to turn pink and raw. She sent an energy burst through herself to heal her wounds. Ariel recalled the professor’s hatred radiating out through his eyes. He may not turn her over to his men, but he would derive great pleasure in her pain. Tomorrow she’d have to be prepared for anything.

Once she refused to tell him where her people were located, the torture would begin. At the same time, she would need to use all the energy at her disposal to deflect his men from discovering the transport. Hopefully by the time night fell tomorrow she’d have enough psychic strength left to attempt contact with Coridan again.

* * * * *

Morning came sooner than Ariel would have liked. Her neck stung as if her flesh had been bitten during the night. At first light, as promised, the professor stepped across the threshold of the hut and ordered Raoul and Santo to untie her. The guards yanked at the vines with unusual dramatic flair. It took Ariel a minute to realize their actions were for show.

The professor watched closely, his face shining with pleasure at the guides’ exaggerated movements. They pulled Ariel off the furs, allowing her to grab her sheer blue skirt and slip it on before being dragged out of the hut. Raoul and Santo lifted her under the arms to alleviate any pain she might suffer by their actions. This confirmed her earlier suspicions. The men were trying to go easy on her despite their fear of the professor.

They placed her in the basket, the softness in their eyes the only thing revealing their true discomfort. The professor stepped in behind them, then ordered the men to lower the basket. Upon reaching the ground, Raoul and Santo picked Ariel up, hoisting her above their heads to a table that had been placed on end.

The men lowered her to her feet when they neared the erect table. She stood facing the wooden structure. The professor walked up and spun Ariel around, slamming her back against the hard boards.

The warm memories of the meals she’d shared with her people flooded her, so much happiness, so much laughter. The Atlanteans never meant for this object to be used as a tool of torture. Sadness filled Ariel as she realized she might never experience those things again. It was for that laughter, for her people she would endure whatever this man subjected her to today.

He ordered Raoul and Santo to tie her hands behind her, securing them to the top legs of the table. Similarly, they tied her feet, securing them to the bottom legs of the structure until they’d stretched her wide in a standing ‘x’ position.

There was no way she could fire a shot and hit anyone unless they stepped directly in front of her hands. She couldn’t see behind her and therefore couldn’t aim. Besides, taking out one or two people would in no way ensure her escape. If anything, it would bring the red-devil down on her like a rain of fire.

The professor watched, a wicked smile on his chubby face.

“What do you really want, professor?”

“My due.”

Ariel shook her head. Some men never learned. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

Rumsinger snorted. “I doubt that very much. In fact, you’ve told me nothing at all. It’s as if your tribe has disappeared off the face of the Earth.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped to within inches of her body. “And since we both know that’s not possible, they have to be here somewhere.”

Ariel felt his warm breath upon her cheek. The rancid smell that followed had her fighting the urge to gag. “I told you, I know nothing.” She swallowed hard.

He arched a furry caterpillar-like brow. “There are few, if any, tracks leading away from this compound. My men have scoured the land and the only thing we’ve found is a drinking cup.” The professor fisted his hands. “Now I’m going to ask you again, once more nicely, where are your people?”

Ariel swallowed hard. “I cannot tell you what I do not know.”

“Have it your way.” Rumsinger turned to face Raoul. “Go to my hut and retrieve my knife.”

Raoul’s eyes widened. His gaze darted from the professor to Ariel, then back.

“Move now!”

Raoul jumped and darted to Ariel’s old hut. He returned in short order carrying a knife that looked more like a sword to her. He handed the blade to the professor, who proceeded to run his finger along the edge. A drop of blood pearled on the tip of his thumb. He brought the digit to his mouth and sucked before turning his attention back to Ariel.

“Where are they?” He raised the knife to her outstretched arm.

Ariel bit her lower lip and shook her head.

The professor ran the edge of the blade over her bicep. Pain seared her, sapping some of her strength as she fought the urge to cry out. A streak of red followed the sharp metal’s trail. Ariel winced as he drew the knife away, blood dripping down her arm.

The professor stared at her arm for a moment then turned his attention back to his blade. “Once more, my dear, where is your tribe?”

“I don’t know,” she spat, the copper taste of blood filling her mouth as she fought the pain.

“Have it your way.” He shrugged and raised the knife again. This time the blade came down on her leg, its razor edge leaving a clean slice behind. “Get me the salt, Santo.”

The guard’s nostrils flared, but he did as ordered.

The professor grabbed a handful of the white granules and rubbed them into Ariel’s wounds. She screamed, the raw flesh burning like fire under the abrasive seasoning. Damn him. She would die before she led him to her people.

Coridan
, she screamed in her head repeatedly as she fought the urge to heal herself.

* * * * *

Coridan froze as pain sliced through him, driving him to the ground. The garbled cry resonated in his head, echoing over his senses, demanding help without words. He pressed his hands to his limbs, trying to figure out if he’d suffered any injuries. None were visible.

The next wave of pain had him rising and sprinting through the jungle. He was still a day and a half away from the encampment. Whoever communicated to him psychically was in dire need. The contact had vibrated through him, like a sound wave, echoing the pain the individual felt.

The being hadn’t used a traditional Atlantean route of communication. This led Coridan to believe he dealt with someone or something different. He pushed himself harder, his heart slamming in his chest. Muscles bunched as he leapt over fallen trees and ducked around lianas. Snakes scurried to escape his approach, along with a few bug-eyed iguanas.

He’d traveled a few miles when he heard a faint whisper. The wind rushing past his head from running created enough interference that he’d been unable to make out what had been said. Coridan stopped, his breathing harsh as he listened again, waiting.
Please, speak to me…
he asked no one in particular.

Coridan…Coridan…

His name was repeated like a mantra, barely audible, but there nonetheless. Someone called him by name…but who? Coridan’s brows furrowed. Who could be calling him on his private frequency, the one reserved solely for true-mates? The blonde from his vision flashed through his mind. Excitement and fear lanced through him as he concentrated so he could answer back.

Who are you?

Please
… the voice whispered.

I am coming. Fear not.
He sent the thoughts out using the same frequency, and then tried to hold onto his patience, which was rapidly slipping from his grasp. For several minutes, he heard nothing. He debated whether to continue his journey and try again in another mile or so. Coridan released a strangled breath. Whoever had contacted him was gone. Fear clutched at his throat as he considered the possibility that they’d been killed.

He would have felt it, wouldn’t he?

No!
He shouted the thought.
I demand that you speak to me.
He had meant the command to sound firm, unforgiving. Instead, it had come out like a plea from a desperate man, which he supposed he was. Coridan took a step and heard a whispered response. It sounded faintly like the tickling trill of a woman’s laughter, albeit one who fought pain.

You know who I am. You have known me all your life. You think me a stranger.
It wasn’t exactly a question, yet the words floated weightlessly, suspended in the ether.

Stop speaking in riddles, woman, and tell me who you are.

I am your seer and I demand your respect and allegiance. Her voice broke off on an angry gasp.

Feeling as if he’d been kicked, Coridan’s stomach clenched. The seer…it was not possible, was it?
How is it that you come to communicate with me in this manner?

‘Tis not important.