Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (10 page)

He closed his eyes and tried not to think of his fellow warriors who had gone before him. Mordecai had been the first to be released. It had shocked all of them after so many years of imprisonment. Until that moment, they hadn’t known such a thing was possible. They’d all lived with the faint hope that their goddess, the Lady of the Beasts, was still alive and might someday rise up and free them. That hope had faded as the centuries had drifted into millennia, leaving them still locked in their animal forms.

Roric had known something was happening when the demons had first built the carousel and placed them upon it. All of them had felt a ripple of something in the air. Excitement. Expectation. When the first of them was released, they’d realized the demons had been expecting it, were actively searching for the right women to make it happen.

The possibility that they could escape their prison, defeat the curse and regain control of their souls and their power had sent a flood of anticipation through him and his fellow warriors. Whatever Hades’ reasons for actively searching for women to free them mattered not. They had their own agenda—to escape, free the others and find their Lady.

The serpent had risen, released by a woman in Kansas. Mordecai had clutched her in his claws, spread his wings wide and flown off, never to be seen or heard from again. It had been during the time of the Vietnam conflict. Not that it truly mattered to Roric. The ongoing wars of humans were nothing compared to what was coming if someone didn’t stop Hades’ plan of destruction and world domination. But details like that helped him order his memories over the thousands of years he’d been imprisoned.

The Phoenix had risen next, freed by a girl who was barely a woman. He’d disappeared with her in a flash of flames and smoke. That had been in Louisiana if Roric remembered correctly. And that wasn’t a sure thing. Time flowed differently for them, sometimes flowing swiftly, other times dragging on interminably. Sometimes memories mixed together.

Then Stavros had been set free. The jaguar, a proud warrior, had roared with relief when he’d been released. They’d all had such hope, but Stavros and the woman had disappeared. He’d never returned to the carnival, never found a way to contact any of them again.

None of them had.

Expectation and hope had soon turned to bitter despair, and the mutterings of the demons who ran the carnival hadn’t helped. Over the decades, Roric and his fellow warriors had pieced enough together to understand that Hades was seeking to release them for his own gain. Not that any of them expected any different.

There was also a time limit involved with the curse—the turning of one full day. Not nearly enough time to figure out how to defeat the devil and break the curse for good. But it would have to be. Roric had no intentions of losing.

Defeat at the hands of Hades and his legions had burned through his body and soul for thousands of years. The taste was bitter. They had let their Lady down. They were the finest warriors to have ever lived, and they had been defeated. It could not happen again.

If only one of the others had been able to send some word, some sign of what they were up against, it would help give him the edge he needed to win. But he was on his own.

Roric didn’t even know if it was possible to return, to find the carnival again now that he was free. He vowed to be the first to do so. He planned on surviving whatever trials Hades’ demons had in store for him and breaking the curse. Once his soul was no longer in jeopardy, he intended to find a way to help the others and to free the Lady of the Beasts.

The woman on the bed moaned, pulling his attention back to the here and now. She was the key to his freedom, to his eternal soul. Whatever happened in the next twenty-four hours—less than that now—would either bring him freedom or condemn him to the deepest bowels of Hell. Forever.

He was determined not to lose. Not this time.

For now, they were both safe from the demons. Roric had the ability to sense their fiendish presence, and they were nowhere near. For whatever reason, he was alone with this incredible woman, and he planned to make the most of the situation.

All those years of celibacy had left him aching for the softness of a woman—her delicate touch, her soft lips, her enticing scent. But he didn’t want just any woman. He wanted the woman staring up at him with such overwhelming hunger in her gaze, the one who had set him free.

She was so much smaller than him, yet he sensed no fear of him in her. Her skin was incredibly soft, her muscles sleek. She was slender, yet strong, her thighs supple. Her breasts were barely enough to fill his palms, but they were perfectly formed and tipped with tight, pink nipples. He licked his lips, remembering how they felt against his tongue.

Lifting her slightly, he leaned inward, positioning the tip of his cock at the opening of her channel. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t protest. He let some of his weight fall forward, and his shaft sank into her heated depths. He met with slight resistance, as her sensitive flesh was swollen from her earlier orgasm, but he pressed forward, not stopping until her damp sheath gripped every inch of him.

Roric closed his eyes and chuffed out a breath, trying to maintain control. Her inner muscles squeezed him, rippling up and down his hard length. The urge to just slam into her over and over again until he came was almost overwhelming. He wanted to fuck her until neither of them could stand it any longer, until they both came hard and ended up in a sweaty heap of released lust. Then he wanted to do it again.

He’d been locked away and cold for so long he could barely remember any other existence. She had freed him from that prison. Now she offered him her warmth, her passion. Her generosity threatened to unman him.

It took all his willpower to slide back until only the tip of his shaft was still inside her. Slowly, he pressed inward again. His balls ached and drew close to his body. He’d loved the feel of her hands wrapped around his erection, so tentative at first, then surer and firmer. He longed to have her suck his cock. Wanted her lips around him, wanted to feel her tongue lap at him as she took him deep into her mouth.

His shaft jerked and he sucked in a deep breath. He’d had his chance earlier, but had stopped her. Just the briefest touch of her tongue against the tip of his erection had almost made him come. And he’d wanted to be inside her sweet warmth the first time he orgasmed in so long.

She moaned and the sound vibrated down his spine, making him purr with pleasure. Muscles tensed in his arms and legs as he slid in and out of her body. The urge to pound into her was overwhelming. His control started to slip, and he barely managed to leash it.

Leaning down, he gripped her in his arms and rolled. She shrieked as their positions shifted and he was flat on his back with her above him. “Ride me,” he commanded. This way she was in control and he couldn’t accidentally hurt her. He was on edge after being celibate for so long, and he no longer trusted himself.

Her eyes widened and she smiled. It was a sleepy, siren’s smile that made his gut clench and his balls constrict to the point of pain.

Gripping her hips, he urged her upward. She raised herself above him, placing her hands on his chest for support. She bit her bottom lip and slowly lowered herself again, taking all of him.

Unable to stop himself, he arched his hips upward on her down stroke, driving impossibly deep. She cried out, but didn’t stop. Her cream slid out from between them, coating her tender folds and his thick shaft. The smell of sex and woman permeated the air. Roric took a deep breath, savoring the rich scent. Exquisite.

This was life, this elemental connection between male and female. No matter what period of time in the history of the earth, this bond was the most powerful of all. Sex. Mating. Confirming life.

Roric slid his hands over her slender torso, marveling at the softness of her skin. He cupped her breasts and she leaned into him, offering herself without reservation. He thumbed her nipples, delighting in the way they puckered under his tender ministrations.

They were both close now. Even though it had been a long time, he knew himself well. He felt the familiar tightening of the heavy sac between his legs, the thickening of his shaft and the pressure gathering at the base. He could sense the changes in her body, the way her breathing quickened and her sheath clenched around him with each thrust. Roric pushed into a seated position and clamped his mouth over her breast. He sucked, pulling hard on the taut bud.

She gasped and he felt her inner muscles rippling around him. Wrapping his hands around her hips, he thrust his pelvis upward, driving deep. His balls constricted, and his cock exploded, his seed spurting from the tip to fill her. Growling, he held her close as his shaft spasmed.

Her nails dug into the slick flesh of his chest and she cried out. Her sheath clutched his turgid length, milking him until there was nothing left. Exhausted, he collapsed, his spine hitting the mattress, his head settling on the soft pillows. Such luxury, such comfort had been unheard of the last time he’d walked the earth. He allowed himself to enjoy it, even though he knew it couldn’t last. She fell forward, settling against him, snuggling against his chest as if she belonged there.

Roric ignored the warmth that radiated from his heart. They’d pleasured one another. That was enough. His job was to save her, and himself, from the demons of Hell and free his soul. Once he’d accomplished that, he had to find a way to free his fellow warriors and the Lady to whom he’d pledged his allegiance. He would not believe she was dead.

There was no room in his life for a woman. No matter how soft or tempting she might be.

He wrapped his arms more firmly around her and held her to his chest, feeling the curve of her cheek rest against his heart. He’d lie here until he caught his breath. Then it was time to make plans.

Chapter Six

Aimee’s eyes fluttered open and then closed again. The sun was shining through her window, warming her bedroom, a clear signal that it was time for her to get up and start her day. She never closed her bedroom drapes, preferring to have the sun wake her naturally rather than having an alarm clock blare at her. Since she didn’t have to punch a time clock and often sketched and drew at odd hours. It worked for her.

Problem was, Aimee didn’t want to move. Not this morning. She didn’t want to disturb the remnants of the wonderful dream she’d had. Never in her life had a dream been so real, so stirring. Considering how vivid her dreams were, that was saying something. Her body was still vibrating with pleasure from her orgasm.

It was much better than the nightmares that usually plagued her sleep. She shuddered and snuggled deeper into the mattress, reveling in the heat that surrounded her.

She frowned as a memory flickered around the edges of her awareness. Had she succumbed to another nightmare last night? She wasn’t sure. She mentally shrugged. If she didn’t remember it, that was a small blessing.

She’d much rather focus on the good dream, her erotic fantasy featuring a most spectacular specimen of manhood. Definitely an improvement over her usual nightmare of being threatened with eternal damnation and the fires of Hell.

Aimee concentrated on trying to remember more from last night. Her frown deepened as memories tickled the corner of her consciousness and details came seeping slowly back.

She’d gone to the carnival with Sandra, but had lost her friend at the funhouse. After searching for her, Aimee had treated herself to a hotdog, and eventually she’d found her way to the sideshows.

 
She’d found a beautiful carousel with the most magnificent creatures. Had she ridden a white tiger? It was coming back to her in bits and pieces, the details few and fuzzy. She shifted, trying to get more comfortable. Her bed, usually comfortable, seemed lumpy this morning.

The mattress moved beneath her. Aimee froze. She splayed open her fingers and felt warmth and flesh instead of cool sheets. Lifting her eyelids, she stared at the wide expanse of male skin that greeted her. There was a man in bed with her.

There was a
naked
man in bed with her.

Aimee jerked upward until she could clearly see his face. Familiar blue eyes stared back at her. It hadn’t been a dream. It was real.

Shoving away from him, Aimee scrambled out of bed. She got tangled in the sheet and tumbled to the floor. Her butt barely had time to register a complaint before she jumped to her feet. Grabbing the edge of the sheet, she tugged it toward her and wrapped it around her trembling body. It left him totally naked, but she didn’t care. “Who the hell are you and how did you get into my bed?”

Seemingly unconcerned by her outburst, the man stacked his hands behind his head and relaxed against the pillows. She desperately tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged. She also had to work to ignore the sexy tufts of hair beneath his armpits and the bands of muscles delineating his wide chest.

She was losing her mind. There was a strange man in bed with her and she found his armpits sexy. What in the name of God had she done last night? She’d never brought a stranger home before. Where had she met him?

She desperately searched through her hazy memories for a clue. He didn’t seem like a maniac or a psycho. So far, he hadn’t moved except to put his hands behind his head in a non-threatening manner.

Slowly, almost lazily, he raked his gaze over her trembling body. He started at the top of her head and worked his way down. Aimee pulled the sheet tighter around her, desperately trying to ignore the way her nipples puckered against the thin fabric and the steady pulsing that began low in her belly.