Pleasure Trap Page 8

  She turned her head and fixed unblinking green eyes on him. “They’ll know.”

  “They” must refer to the other immortals, but… “Know what?”

  “That I’m here to help you, that we’re having sex.”

  A sliver of amusement filled him, though he didn’t let it show. For a woman who had been so bold about her sexual needs, her shyness fascinated him and the contradiction in her nature intrigued him. He realized there were a lot of things he didn’t know about her and he was eager to peel down her many layers, one by one, to discover who she really was.

  “If they’re our real friends, shikima, they’ll be forever grateful to you.” Damaon wore an uncertain look on his face as he stared down at Raisa. Adamas knew his mate was contemplating whether they should change the date, since she was so averse to it. Then Damaon grimaced. “I’m sorry, shikima, but we can’t call off the gathering without incurring Orin’s wrath and uh, I’d rather stay on his good side, if you don’t mind.”

  Raisa rolled onto her back and Adamas took the opportunity to admire her sleek and well-toned body. She gleamed with health and the afterglow of sex. His hand trailed up the satiny skin of her stomach and ribs and doodled on the smooth skin. Yet, she was so much more than her physical appearance. Generous and adventurous in bed. Courage and an inner core of strength. A way of facing life with joy and abandon.

  Not for the first time, he wondered at the events in her life that had made her thus. Raisa cocked her head at Damaon. “Who’s Orin and why is he so important?”

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  “Rather, who’s Esmeralda and why is she so important?” Damaon countered with a mischievous grin.

  “Huh?” She looked from one to the other with confusion.

  “Stop teasing, Damaon.”

  “I’m only stating facts,” Damaon protested.

  “Orin is the Emerald Immortal and Esmeralda is his wife. He spoils her terribly,”

  Adamas said in as solemn a voice as he could manage. “Whatever Esme wants, Esme gets and woe to the man who thwarts her, because when Orin gets mad, he made a sick Damaon seem like a child in comparison. It just so happens that she’s the one who organized this little gathering about a month ago and she is so looking forward to this.”

  Raisa frowned. “They don’t sound like nice people. Why are you friends with them?”

  “Because we have no choice.” Damaon shook his head mournfully. “Esme’s from Ragnon and she has this idea in her cute little brain that Ragnorians should have a reunion every month.”

  Raisa looked taken aback. The poor dear obviously hadn’t thought beyond their being immortals. “You’re from Rag-Ragnon? I mean, Damaon has told me you were mortals before, but I guess I never really thought about your origins. Where’s Ragnon?”

  “It’s a little planet several galaxies away from Earth.”

  “You know, I never really understood that.” Her brows slashed together. “I thought Ishaka made sure the immortals have children who will eventually be caretakers for the gems, but well, you never really finished telling the story of his-her legend, so there may be something I’m missing.”

  “No, you thought right.” It seemed Damaon couldn’t resist anymore and lifted his hand to caress her hips. Sometimes, he’d stroke up and touch Adamas, letting his hand glide up Adamas’ arm before returning to Raisa’s skin. “Normally, immortals reproduce the next generation of caretakers, but in our case, the previous Diamond 74

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  Immortal was so immersed in his job at one point that he neglected his health. By the time he realized what was happening and sought to send the calling star, the diamond had ripened on its stalk and was spoiled. Thus, with no calling star to send and having difficulty breathing by then, he made us the next caretakers.”

  “But why you and not some other man—”

  “Actually, he chose Damaon,” Adamas clarified. Losing interest in the story—

  except for the bond with Adamas, his mate had hated his mortal existence with a passion—Damaon lowered his head to nibble on her skin and play with her breasts. Adamas tangled his hand in his mate’s bone-white hair, enjoying the peace and contentment that stole through his veins.

  “Why?” There was a hitch in Raisa’s breath, most probably due to the fact that Damaon had commenced sucking on her nipple. Her eyes fluttered, wanting to close, but Adamas knew she struggled to keep them open and trained on him.

  “Because Damaon worked in the diamond mines and he breathed and lived those gems to the extent that he knew them better even than himself. He loved working them and the diamonds returned the feeling, if such a thing is possible, because they thrived and glowed under his care. He was the perfect candidate.” Adamas felt the corners of lips lift in a wry smile. “I was only the tagalong. Damaon included me in his bargain with the dying immortal because—”

  “I couldn’t face eternity without you.” Damaon raised his head, his mercurial eyes glowing with deep intensity.

  Overpowering need and love slammed into Adamas, making his heart swell with emotion. A different kind of warmth suffused him, one that filled him with quiet joy. Their mouths met and clung in a profound kiss of promise and devotion. Adamas had always thought Damaon voiced his request out of pity for the lame man that he had been. After all, being crippled, Adamas was a burden to his family and a social outcast because of his inability to contribute to the community. But now, he knew the reason was love, but he couldn’t have known the depth of that love. Being an 75

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  immortal may have healed his crippled legs, in order that he might fulfill the demands of his job, but Damaon was his real blessing.

  A sound made them drew back.

  Adamas looked down at Raisa, who was weeping. She sniffed. “That’s so sweet.”

  He thought so too, but he didn’t want the mood to degenerate into sentimentally. He swatted her hip in a light pat. “Sweet or not, you have to haul your butt up. We’ve only about three hours left to prepare before the horde descends on us.”

  “Three hours!” Raisa scrambled from her position, then paused, a stricken expression on her face. “Oh no.” In a display of true feminine vanity, she wailed. “I don’t have a dress.”

  Adamas didn’t know why, but he and Damaon exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing.

  “Men.” Aggrieved, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Adamas barely managed to shoe her bare feet in hastily spun slippers before she stalked into the adjoining bath.

  * * * * *

  Raisa examined herself one last time before the large gilt mirror in the hall. Her golden-blonde hair had been washed and combed until it fell in shiny waves around her face. Her fair skin had a healthy pink glow from the exuberant exercise of the past few days and her green eyes were bright and excited, if shadowed by a little apprehension. Though relieved that it was only to be a small gathering, she wasn’t all that eager to meet the Emerald Immortal and his mate, given what she knew of them from her lovers.

  Lovers.

  For a moment, she forgot her anxiety as she thrilled to the word. Adamas hadn’t been bragging. They certainly had the skill to go with their equipment. They had 76

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  immersed her in a sensual haze of never-ending pleasure interspaced with lazy conversations about themselves and everything and nothing in particular. The whole situation was surreal.

  Whenever she awakened from a nap, she’d pinch herself to make sure she was really lying between two hunky males in a bed huge enough for five people. She never needed a blanket, for their body heat was adequate to keep her warm. She discovered that she was insatiable for them, which had never happened to her before. Yet, even as her body demanded to be filled by them again and again, she hungered for knowledge about them and she stored the tiny bits and pieces they dropped about themselves and their former lives indelibly in her mind.

  She realized with sickening clarity that she
only had two more days before the palace would eject her from the premises. In the mirror, she saw bleak despair filling her eyes.

  “What is it, shikima?” Adamas suddenly appeared behind her. Of the two men, he was the more sensitive one, as he always seemed to be attuned to her moods. He dropped a kiss on top of her hair. “Is the dress not to your liking? I think you look fabulous in it and I’m not saying that just because I was the one who made it for you.”

  After she had exited the shower, dripping wet because of the absence of towels, the men had insisted on kissing away every water droplet that clung to her skin. By the time they were done, she was on fire for them and they tumbled onto the bed. With an hour to go before guests started to arrive, Adamas had spun white, sparkling cloth about her sensitized skin and soon she was draped in a simple, floor-length gown of elegant design with tiny studded diamonds that enhanced the creamy complexion of her bared arms and shoulders. She’d stared, stupefied, not having owned any gown as chic as this.

  Now, she made a show of admiring the dress in the mirror in front of her, then bestowed a tremulous smile on his reflection. “The dress is magnificent. Thank you.”

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  “You’re magnificent.” He whirled her around and planted a kiss of such passion and longing on her mouth that she was soon moaning and clutching his shoulders. Her knees went weak and she was in danger of falling in a heap to the floor. She clutched tight on his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh through the cloth. He clutched fistfuls of her skirt in his hand and inched them up until they were bunched around her waist. Moaning, she barely registered that his hand was skimming her inner thigh and cupping her mound, his fingers delving intimately into her folds.

  “Adamas!” she whimpered.

  “Hell’s gems, Raisa,” he said hoarsely against her ear. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Your guests…” she felt obliged to protest, though her pussy was already creaming in anticipation of his penetration.

  “They can damn well wait.”

  He thrust two fingers into her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted something more substantial than his fingers in her. She wanted him, his thick, hard cock. She wanted both of them. “Damaon…”

  “He’s here. Open your eyes.”

  Through the hazy film of desire covering her eyes, she caught sight of the other immortal leaning against the opposite wall, his silver eyes intent on them, dark with need. She reached out a hand to him just as Adamas thrust his fingers into her and she sobbed. “More, more…ah…”

  She bore down on his fingers, his thumb rasped over her clit and the tension within exploded into sparkling diamond lights. She hadn’t even come back to her senses yet when Adamas turned her around to face the mirror and she looked at her lovers in the oval surface, both men’s faces hard and their eyes glittered with lust. Damaon walked over to them and stood directly behind Adamas, his head descending to exchange a hot kiss with his mate.

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  She burned from watching them, her yearning for them a molten liquid flowing through her. Her earlier release wasn’t enough. She wanted a solid cock within her, one her pussy could hold and clasped tight.

  She gasped when her wish was granted. Her palms slammed flat on the hall table when Adamas eased his rigid cock into her. Now she knew why he didn’t give her any underwear. Her breathing grew shallow when another push caused her to surge nearer the mirror.

  Adamas grunted.

  It was a while before she realized that Damaon was fucking Adamas, who was fucking her. She was so aroused at the thought that she creamed even more, her slickness allowing Adamas to slide easily within her.

  Oh God.

  There it was again, a phantom cock thrusting into her ass, making it seem as though both Adamas and Damaon were fucking her. The sensation was incredible, one cock real and firm and the other insubstantial, yet no less tangible. She dimly recalled Adamas saying he needed to research on the phenomenon, yet she’d never asked him about it afterward. Come to think of it, he didn’t seem to have taken the time to do the research. She would remind him about it—

  She moaned, her thoughts scattering when Adamas kissed and licked her nape, his hand coming around her body to cup and squeeze her aching breasts as he thrust deep into her. Her gaze remained fixed on the mirror, on Damaon’s hungry expression, on Adamas’ bone-white head near her golden blonde one, the colors so near they seem to blur. She saw herself, her eyes half closed and her mouth hanging open as she strained to reach for the ecstasy they promised. She looked like a wanton with her gown bunched about her waist and a man’s hands insinuated beneath the material and touching her bare flesh.

  She wanted to be a wanton for them, to be anything they want. In the back of her mind, she knew she had passed the point of no return. While her body hungered for 79

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  them, something else was swelling from within her, an emotion so powerful that she almost drowned in it.

  Adamas pistoned in and out of her, his thrusts changing, becoming shallower as the pressure increased in her belly. The ordered rhythm that he and Damaon had set was shot to pieces as the men plunged and withdrew with frantic urgency, igniting the tension and urging the flames to flare higher. The edge of the hall table dug into her stomach, but the pain served as a counterpoint to the pleasure spreading through her.

  “Gems, Raisa, now. Now!” Adamas pinched her clit and sent her over the edge. She keened as her pussy gripped his cock and milked him of his seed. Damaon’s thrusts pushed her deeper against the table, but she relished the pain, her body spasming into mini-orgasms. She was damp with sweat and her gown was full of wrinkles, but she didn’t care. She’d never felt more alive than at this moment. Adamas withdrew from her and the bunched material at her waist fell along the lines of her body. “Raisa, sweet, are you okay?” He helped her stand up straight and, with a wriggle of his fingers, her gown was back to its pristine condition. She smiled at him ruefully, her body still lax with languor. “Too bad you can’t take away the sweat.” She could also still feel the delicious downward slide of their combined juices on her inner thigh, the evidence of their recent joining.

  “If we had time, Damaon and I would lick them away from your body.” Adamas adjusted his robe and, behind him, she saw Damaon wink at her. She couldn’t believe it when her pussy clenched. She’d become an insatiable hussy since meeting them. “I don’t think you should say things like that,” she said, breathless.

  “Not now, anyway.”

  Whatever Adamas might say was lost with an unfamiliar woman’s cheery greeting. Raisa turned her head toward the sound. She flushed when her gaze encountered the strangers who were standing in the hall, having been admitted into the premises by one of the servants. By the greenish tinge to their features and clothes, however, she could deduce who the couple was.

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  Instead of the disdain Raisa thought she would see on Esmeralda’s face, given her lovers’ description of the Emerald Immortal’s wife, the young face looking from her to Adamas to Damaon from behind a curtain of wavy, deep emerald hair was alight with curiosity and mischief. Raisa was startled at just how young the other woman was, based on her features. She couldn’t be more than twenty, if at all.

  “Dinner hasn’t started yet, but I think the entertainment has already begun. You should’ve waited for us to arrive at least, Adamas. I think we missed a big part of it.”

  The woman grinned, then stepped forward to hug Raisa. “Hi, I’m Esmeralda and this is my husband, Orin, since no one seemed to have the manners to introduce us. As you can see from our attire,” a light, mock pout of her full lips made her look more adorable,

  “we’re from the Emerald Palace.”

  “I guessed,” Raisa said in a daze. She was having a hard time reconciling the reality with the dreaded depiction she’d received about them. Esmeralda seemed…nice, likeable
even. If they were on Earth, Raisa was sure she would hit it off quite well with this lady in green. She just hoped the other woman hadn’t caught the scent of sex in the air. “I’m Raisa Sheldon, from Earth and I…” Her voice trailed away, unable to voice out the reason for her mortal presence in the Diamond Palace. It was one thing to engage in the act with men who were her lovers, but quite another to announce the fact baldly to strangers, even if said strangers were her lovers’ friends.

  “No need to explain.” Esmeralda squeezed her hand. “We understand and we’re very thankful, though I don’t think you find your purpose here that much of a hardship.” Her eyes twinkled and Raisa was horrified to feel a blush coming on. In a quick turnabout, Esmeralda glared at Adamas. “Why didn’t you tell us, you fool? We could’ve postponed this gathering by a few days.”

  Before Adamas could say anything, Raisa blurted out, “But…but you insisted on having it tonight.”

  Esmeralda’s eyes narrowed and responded to her comment, though her gaze didn’t leave Adamas. “Oh, I did, did I?” She turned to the tall man beside her, who had thus 81

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  far watched them in silence. “Orin, my dear husband, you have to defend my honor. Show this poor excuse of an immortal who’s really the boss.”

  Here it comes. Raisa prepared to cringe, sure that the wrath of the mighty Orin would blow her clear across to the end of the hall. Adamas and Damaon were right after all. Esmeralda was a spoiled bitch who wouldn’t hesitate to use her husband’s might to browbeat the other immortals.

  To Raisa’s surprise, Orin merely grinned indulgently and dropped a hand around Esmeralda’s waist. “You’re getting predictable, wife. Maybe if you fall to your knees—”

  Esmeralda cut him off with a light pat on his chest. “Darn. Only a hundred years and I’m boring you already. I don’t know how to survive the next millennium. Maybe one day I’ll find myself replaced and—”

  “Never,” Orin said in a fierce voice. He bent and engaged his wife in a long, deep kiss that spoke of love and affection.