Wild, Wicked & Wanton Page 4

  She was tempted to blurt a quick answer but resisted. Yes, she missed her life. With the memory of the Xander and Bastien’s story fading fast, she was now facing a lot of unknowns. What would happen to her if she stayed with them? What kind of danger would she be forced to face?

  Yet, another part of her wanted to take a chance, to explore a side of herself she hadn’t fully accepted yet. A side that not only enjoyed the dark danger her Masters promised her, but craved it.

  If she went home, would she remember her visit to Xander and Bastien’s world? Would she regret going back? Would the predictable life she’d been so content to live before suddenly seem empty and dull?

  “I’m not sure. I mean… yes, I miss my home and my job. My boss, and friends in the book club. Can I think about it for a while?”

  “You don’t have much time. You will lose your memories fairly quickly. And what remains will vanish completely once your Masters complete the claiming.”

  “Which means?”

  “You have no more than twenty hours to decide.”

  Such a short time to make such an important decision. “How will I find you?”

  “I will come to you. There is much to do, if you wish to return to your world. Do not deliberate too long.” He turned to the door and pulled it open. “You should go now. Your Masters will be searching for you.”

  Her mind swimming, she followed the masked man to the room’s exit. How would she make a choice? If only she could recall the plot of the story. Beyond the first couple of chapters, it was pretty much lost to her now. What hazards had Xander and Bastien faced? What risks had their bride met?

  Oh, ack! It was gone.

  She hesitated before passing through the doorway. “Why are you helping me?”

  Silence. “If there is time later, I may tell you.” He disappeared into the heavy shadows exactly one blink before she heard Bastien murmur her name behind her.

  The brush of his warm breath across one shoulder elicited a shudder. Had he heard anything? Seen anything? Did he know she was considering escape? If so, would he lock her in her room to make it impossible?

  Her back and shoulders tight, her eyelids squeezed shut, she slowly turned to face him. She’d know the moment their eyes met, no doubt. If she found anger in their depths, then he knew.

  Mentally bracing herself, she lifted her eyelids.

  Relief. She saw no rage. Quite the opposite, what she saw made her hot and cold at the same time -- raw, desperate desire. She could lose herself in his desire. It would be so easy. A part of her wanted exactly that. Craved it with frightening, overwhelming force.

  She could practically feel her former life and world slipping through her fingers, like sand.

  Not ready to let it go, she staggered backward. Distance would allow her to cling to what little memories she had left. Instinct told her as much.

  “It is time for you to meet your second Master.”

  Xander.

  A flare of anticipation shot up her spine. She no longer remembered how he’d been described in the book, whether he was tall or short, thick or thin, blond-haired or dark. Nor could she remember what animal form he took when he hunted. She only remembered the air of feral danger and power he’d given off. And she remembered how sexy she’d found that mysterious edge. Darkly erotic.

  Within moments, she would meet the second of her fantasy-men-come-to-life. Her heartbeat instantly sped up. Hot blood pounded through her chest. Her knees grew wobbly and soft.

  “This way.” Bastien led her through a labyrinth of identical halls, lit periodically by burning torches affixed to the walls. Otherwise, the maze of twisty-turny passageways was inky black, forcing Maggie to rely on Bastien’s feline night vision to guide her. She clung to his hand, treading carefully, her palms sweaty, dampness gathering on her brow.

  Finally, they emerged from the blackness, stepping into an enormous room with a glass-domed ceiling. Millions of stars twinkled in the moonless sky above. The floors were also black, the stone tile cold, slick and unyielding under her unshod feet. The walls were a crisp white, completely devoid of any windows, artwork or signs. It reminded her somewhat of an airport terminal, though lacking the gift and coffee shops, the crush of people, and the constant hum of voices. The room was empty and silent, save the clop, clop of Bastien’s booted footfalls.

  Around a corner, and then they were traveling through a series of glass-enclosed tunnels, the dark outside closing in on them from both sides and above. She wondered if the air outside was breathable or toxic. If she’d ever smell the scent of freshly-mown grass or spring flowers.

  At the end of the bazillionth tunnel, Bastien halted. “It may take a while for your body to adjust to the differences between our outside environment and yours. Our atmosphere contains a different concentration of gasses. You may feel lightheaded, or dizzy. I’ll help you.” He pushed open the door, and she braced herself for the gust of frigid air she’d expected would slap her in the face.

  Instead, warm, fragrant air caressed her skin and the heady scent of flowers, trees and rich soil filled her nostrils. A wave of exhilaration charged through her system, making her feel young and alive and oh so wonderful. But in the next instant, as she tipped her head to look up at the cloudless star-speckled sky, a funny twinge in her head left her reeling, like she’d just stepped onto an out-of-control carnival ride.

  Staggering from the tilting of the ground beneath her, she reached for Bastien’s arm to steady herself. Regrettably, his strong and steady presence beside her wasn’t enough to keep her on her feet. After misjudging the location of the dewy grass beneath her foot, she twisted her ankle and nearly tumbled to the ground.

  Bastien’s strong hands caught her around her waist and in the next instant, she was cradled in his arms and bouncing against his bulk.

  Warm and snuggly. Ahhhh. This was the only way to travel.

  He carried her over a rolling hill toward a large stone building nestled between towering trees. Warm yellow light in the windows beckoned them, welcoming them into what turned out to be a cozy and warm interior.

  Was this her new home? This beautiful place, with the gleaming tiled floors, polished wood trim and sparkling candelabras hanging from snow-white ceilings? It looked like a picture out of House and Gardens. Stunning.

  Made her already spinning head whirl a little faster.

  Bastien gently set her on her feet, and with his help, she managed to wobble her way up the sweeping staircase to the second floor.

  She saw him then. Standing at a set of white doors. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Xander,” she murmured with awe.

  She had seen pictures of many a devastatingly handsome man. Models and actors with perfectly formed features and bodies that promised erotic pleasures beyond any woman’s darkest fantasies. He put every one of them to shame.

  Bastien was absolutely gorgeous, much better looking than any man she’d met in real life. But Xander, dear God, there were no words to describe him.

  Because he was undressed, with the exception of a pair of loose fitting pants, she was privy to an eyeful of male perfection. His body was huge, powerfully built. Deeply tanned, hairless skin stretched over rippling muscles. A cascade of tawny waves tumbled from his head over broad shoulders. His sharp, dark-eyed gaze swept up her form, from foot to scalp then settled at chest level. Feral, dark and dangerous. Those were the words that leapt to her mind as she indulged in a long, lazy once-over. He swept his tongue across his bottom lip and her knees threatened to give out.

  Bastien released her hand. Woozy and trembling, she dropped to her knees at Xander’s bare feet and lowered her gaze. She did so not because she was trying to play the role of submissive, but out of necessity. Shaking and breathless, she needed to catch her breath and steady herself. For whatever reason, she couldn’t seem to do either when she was standing up, watching him gobble her up with his eyes.

  She felt him reach for her even before he touched her. It was
as if a little charge of electricity leapt between his fingertips and her arm. That tiny zap morphed into a huge buzz the instant he made contact.

  Staggering to her feet at his coaxing, she tried to remember why these men affected her so powerfully. She had known earlier, but now… it was a mystery.

  Never had she reacted to a man the way she had to Bastien and Xander. Whether it was simply a come-hither glance or an innocent touch, she was rendered instantly breathless, her pussy slick and hot.

  Was it magic of some kind? She couldn’t remember what the heroine in the book had experienced.

  Now flanked on both sides by the most gorgeous men this side of paradise, she walked into the enormous master bedroom. Decadent and luxurious. Those two words pretty much summed up her thoughts on the room.

  The carpet beneath her feet felt like animal fur. It was so soft and thick. The bed was easily the size of two California kings positioned side-by-side. Posts towered from each corner, supporting a framework of wood swathed in velvets and silks. The bed itself was piled with pure white animal furs and pillows.

  Beyond the bed, a sex swing was suspended from the ceiling. Next to that stood a few other pieces of bondage furniture. She recognized them from somewhere.

  Unexpectedly, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in several hours. Embarrassed, she wrapped an arm around her stomach, hoping it would muffle any future growls, and looked askance at Bastien.

  Bastien and Xander swapped glances and then Bastien left the room.

  Alone. With Xander. A half-naked Xander, at that.

  She was both thrilled and petrified. Although she sensed he didn’t want to hurt her, she couldn’t help feeling overpowered and vulnerable. What would he expect from her? Would she fail? Would he punish her? Would he whip her?

  Yikes! She was so not into pain! She wasn’t too proud to admit she was a wimp.

  He motioned to the bed and she sat, hands in her lap, eyes raised to his face. His feet set shoulder width apart, hands behind his back, he looked down at her with those mesmerizing eyes. She couldn’t remember what kind of animal form Xander took in the book, but she did recall that he, like Bastien, shifted forms. In his human form, he reminded her of a lion. Majestic. Powerful. With the commanding presence of a king.

  Yes, that was it. A lion. Or had it been a tiger, like Bastien?

  “You are afraid, little one?” His voice was a low-pitched rumble, as sensual as the rest of him.

  “A little,” she confessed, figuring there was no sense in lying.

  “Bastien tells me your first training went well. Do you disagree?”

  Did she? “No, not really. Although I’m new to this whole submission thing. I’m not really sure what’s expected. Plus, sometimes I get a little… annoyed -- I guess that would be the word -- when things are put to me as commands, rather than requests.”

  “You will grow accustomed to our ways,” he said flatly, his expression and voice lacking emotion. “We cannot expect perfection at this point, as long as you treat us with due respect.”

  A miserable, awkward silence followed, giving her ample opportunity to think and wonder and worry. Was he just going to stand there forever and stare at her? God, she hoped not.

  He was so gorgeous, absolutely perfect, and she was so imperfect. How could he stand looking at her like that? She wanted to hide herself from him. More than she wanted to eat. Or breathe. But every time she started to lift her arms to shield herself, he gave her a warning scowl.

  She satisfied her urge by clamping her knees tightly together and tucking her arms against her sides as snugly as possible.

  “Can I ask a question?” she hedged.

  “You may.”

  “How long must I stay here with you?”

  “As long as you live,” was his matter-of-fact answer. “You did summon us. If you hadn’t, the portal wouldn’t have opened.”

  “Sssssure…” She’d summoned them? How was that again? She scrabbled for the fading memories of those final moments she’d spent at home, before she’d fallen asleep. “But for some reason, I’m thinking I didn’t expect to be stolen away from my home, my job, my life. Taken hostage.”

  His body stiffened. “You are not a prisoner,” he snapped. “You are our bride, a much revered position.”

  Oops. Had she bruised his ego? Insulted his hospitality? Well, sheesh! What did he expect? He was treating her like a prisoner. He hadn’t even given her clothes to wear.

  He prowled closer. His gaze went on a visual tour of her body again, this time winding down to her toes before moving back up to her face. “Part your legs.”

  A gasp slipped past her lips, even as a flood of warmth rushed to the juncture of her thighs. Part her legs? And show this stranger her most delicate parts? She had some pride. She wasn’t ready to do that, yet. Almost, but not quite.

  Unfortunately, judging by his angry glare, her Master didn’t seem to understand her sense of pride. Exactly how did he intend to force her to comply?

  Home. She was ready to go home now.

  Chapter 5

  When Maggie didn’t move immediately to comply with Xander’s command, his mouth pulled into a tight line.

  “Must I repeat myself?” he growled.

  Tears of confusion burned her eyes while bursts of erotic heat pulsed through her body. She wanted this man, even though he was a stranger -- a big, sexy, powerful and intimidating stranger. She wanted him to touch her with those long tapered fingers. To taste her with those perfectly-formed lips. To explore every inch of her body with that hard-eyed gaze.

  She didn’t understand why she ached for those things, only knew the agony was there, throbbing and sharp and desperate. Slowly, her eyes fixed on his, she consciously loosened the clenched muscles of her thighs and pulled her legs apart.

  He didn’t break the connection between their gazes to look down. A surprise. What male could resist the sight of a wet pussy? Especially when they’d specifically asked the owner of said pussy to open her legs for him?

  His nostrils flared slightly as he audibly inhaled. His eyelids lowered, partially shading his eyes. “Your scent…” His parted lips glistened as he swept his tongue across them. “Honey.” He stepped closer and sniffed again.

  The air crackled between them, charged with what had to be a million volts of electricity. So freaking intense, it made lightning look like miniscule zaps of static. He extended an arm, his hand reaching for her shoulder. He’d touch her in three, two, one second…

  Ohhhhh.

  Home still sounded good. But… later. Waiting a little while wouldn’t hurt.

  Warmth gathered between her legs, creating a strange sensation where cool air caressed swollen, heated flesh. His flattened palm grazed over the swell of her shoulder, following the line of her right arm to the bed. His fingers twined between hers, palm pressed to the back of her hand. Moving closer yet, he did the same thing with his other hand.

  If she’d ever felt small and vulnerable before, it was nothing compared to now. Even bent at the waist, Xander towered over her. His chest was so wide and thickly muscled she couldn’t help staring. Real men were built like that? Like a god?

  Who knew?

  Pictures and movies just didn’t do guys like Xander justice. In real life, they were so much… larger. And impressive. Yes, most definitely impressive.

  Her mouth went dry. All the fluid in her body was gathering in one place, one hot and throbbing place. So near. And yet she ached for him to come closer.

  What would he do next? Would he kiss her (God, she hoped so!)? Or wedge his thighs between her knees, slowly force her onto her back and press that scrumptious body against hers (she wouldn’t complain a bit!)? Or…

  Oh, Mama! He was going to kiss her.

  His head tipped, eyelids at half-mast, he drew nearer until his breath warmed her lips. She dug her fingertips into the bedding and tensed her body, expecting his kiss to launch her to the moon.

  His lips were
soft but far from feminine. Moist but not disgustingly so. And they were magic.

  The kiss started out excruciatingly soft. His mouth swept over hers, a fraction of a second of contact. A fraction of a second of pure agony.

  Then he did it again. And again. Soft, sweet bliss.

  His breathing sped up. Hers did too. The sound of their combined gasps echoed in her ears, stirring up a barrage of impulses she wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet. She concentrated on the kiss, which was slowly growing more intimate.

  Finally, he claimed her mouth fully. One of his hands pressed possessively at the back of her head. His tongue swept into her mouth, bold and domineering. It stroked and took and conquered.

  The impulses blazing through her mind grew more urgent until she was clawing at the blankets, stomach bunched into a tight ball, pussy burning to be filled.

  When he broke the kiss, her head was spinning. Once the whirling stopped, she realized Bastien had returned with a tray of food. She’d forgotten how starving she’d been.

  A ghost of a smile on his face, Xander helped her to her feet, steadying her as she staggered to the table in one corner of the room. She sat and took in the sight of a plate full of steaming food.

  Thankfully, they left her alone for a bit. The private time allowed her to gather up her scattered wits. Not to mention, an audience watching her eat had always made her self-conscious. Still, even as hungry as she’d been, she found she couldn’t eat nearly as much as she thought.

  Physical hunger sated at last, she was now ready for whatever Bastien and Xander, her most delightful Masters, were ready to dish out, oh yes she was. Her formerly shaky knees were now firmed up. Her once irregular pulse was back to a steady beat. And her previously hazy, muddled head was once again crystal clear.

  She pushed up from the table and smiled a thank you to them both. She wasn’t sold on the idea of becoming a permanent resident of whatever this place was called -- Alyria, was it? But she was kind of intrigued by the whole idea of being trained as a submissive. These guys weren’t normal run-of-the-mill kind of men. They were far sexier, a lot more mysterious and tons more intriguing than any man she’d ever hoped to meet in real life.