Jewel of Niveka

Blurb

The Egyptian Goddess Bastet plays matchmaker to Sahrametatiri as a reward for her eternal service. But Sahra doesn't think she's ready for love or trust. How could she be when ti was a man who caused her demise a millennia ago? But Ben Solomon, curator of the Solomon Museum, where the Nivekian artifacts are to be exhibited, may just be the man to stand up to her passionate defiance. After all, it isn't the powerful Queen of Niveka he wants--it's the desirable woman he made love to in one night of sizzling sexual desire. Taming this immortal wildcat will take the patient determination of a modern man with a fierce passion in his heart.

Excerpt

The night was balmy and peaceful. It was clear with what looked like a million stars in the sky. He stopped at the center of the bridge. The water from the small stream tumbled along its path and he gazed down into the sparkling, shallow depths.

"It's a beautiful night."

She looked up at the sky. "Tonight it reminds me a bit of home." He heard a hint of wistfulness in her words.

"Far away?"

She gripped the wooden handrail of the bridge. "Yes, far away."

"Here in the United States?"

She turned to look at him and shook her head. "You ask too many questions, Ben. But no, not here in the States. Far away. And that shall have to do for now." Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, lifted up, and planted a searing kiss on his lips.

There was no hope for him. He reached out to pull her closer. Her taste drugged him and he felt his arousal mounting. This wasn't exactly the place to fuck her. He looked around, frantic to find a place hidden away from the main path. Finally, he dragged her across the bridge and into a crush of trees.

That was as far as she was going to allow him to lead, because suddenly he found his back against the rough bark of a tree and her hands were tearing at his shirt.

"I want you to fuck me right here, Ben. I don't want to wait another second," she growled into his ear as his buttons scattered in the shrubs. Well, damn, who was he to turn down a lady? He reached for her, but she shoved his hands away and her own pressed against his naked chest, her nails digging into his flesh and he hissed at the painful pleasure.

"This is the way it is done, Ben." Her hands were at the opening of his pants, ripping them open, and pulling down the zipper. And then he thought he'd died and gone to heaven as her hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. Pre-cum oozed from the slit and she smeared it across his tip.

He hadn't wanted it to be this way. He had wanted to take his time with her. She was as beautiful as any fine painting hanging on the walls of the museum and she deserved to be worshipped properly. But she was apparently having none of it. And for now he planned to let her have her way.

* * *

He was hers and she planned to use him fully. Her hands gripped him, sliding up and down his length. She dropped to her knees and consumed him with her mouth, dancing across the surface of his skin, relishing the flavor of him. So very different from the others. He was masculine fire in her mouth. Although he allowed her to do as she wished, she knew at any moment he could try to take control. But she wanted him like none of the others through the ages.

She skipped her tongue along his rigid staff, swirled it over the full, mushroomed tip, sliding beneath the cap, playing him like a fine instrument, sipping at him like a rare wine. She wanted to savor him slowly, remember the taste and smell that waltzed through her, but she needed him inside her now. His fingers were tangled in her hair as he gripped her. She felt his desire rising fast and furious, his energy blending with her own. There was no time to take it slowly as her pussy dripped with her juices, pulsed with her own desire. She couldn't wait.

Swiftly rising to her feet, she shed her panties. His arms circled around her, lifting her. She grabbed his shaft, easing it toward her entrance. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she slowly lowered herself onto the burgeoning rod. He was so big and she felt the walls of her sheath expand as he penetrated her, each nerve ending clutching at the stiff flesh as it entered her. His mouth descended to claim her lips, pushing his tongue deep inside just as his cock claimed her pussy, so his lips claimed her mouth.

She undulated against him, rose up and slid back down, circling her hips. She felt him expand her channel and she stopped moving, the tip of his cock snug against the opening of her cervix. She felt the sharp pleasure overtake her. She was in control, driving the action, but somehow with his hard fingers pressed into her skin, she felt his power surround her, the desire to lead.

Suddenly, he whirled around and she found herself pinned against the tree as he claimed control. He pressed her against the sharp bark, his hands fastened around her wrists like steel bands, and thrust them up against the tree, claiming superiority as he began to move inside her. He demanded the right of the aggressor, curling and swirling.

She tried to twist her hands free, but he was too strong. He didn't hurt her, but kept her anchored there as he played her body, driving her passion to a searing blaze she could no longer control.

She broke the kiss and turned her head away as she fought for control, the command she had always know with the lovers she had claimed. But he was having no part of it. Time and time again he pushed deep and then retreated, penetrated her needy passage again and again.

His cock would press against her clitoris, sending a sharp zing through her body, and just as she was ready to dive off the edge, he would stop. Continually he kept her at the edge of her climax. She fought against it, fought to fight her responses to him.

"No," she cried out. "I will not allow this."

"You want it, Sahra, reach for it. Let me give this to you." He thrust into her, rubbed against her clit and she growled in frustration.

"I will take it," she raged back.