Page 65 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure
Eluheed sat on the bed beside Tamira, suddenly uncertain. He'd been with many women over his centuries of wandering, brief connections that eased the loneliness without demanding truth. But he'd never been with anyone like Tamira. She was older than he by millennia, had experienced pleasures he could only imagine. How could he hope to please a woman who'd known the touch of countless lovers?
He leaned over her, drinking in her beauty, her scent, the way her chest rose and fell with quickened breath. "Perhaps youshould close your beautiful, glowing eyes and let yourself just feel. When one of the senses is deprived, the others compensate, and pleasure intensifies."
Her smile turned knowing. "Now I'm sure that you are trying to hide something from me."
She wasn't wrong. The mark on his chest could perhaps be explained as a tattoo, a birthmark, or even a strangely healed wound. But he abhorred lying even though his existence on Earth forced him to lie constantly, or rather misdirect, though he had a feeling that his well-practiced redirection tricks might not work on her.
If they became lovers beyond just this night, how long could he maintain his secret? The thought troubled him.
"I am trying to hide something," he admitted, choosing honesty within limits. "I'm not as perfect and unmarred as you are."
The playfulness faded from her expression, replaced by something tender. "You don't have to be perfect. I know that humans carry their history on their bodies, both men and women, and I don't regard it as shameful. Scars tell stories. They're proof of survival."
Her understanding moved him. She thought he was self-conscious about battle scars or the marks of hard living. If only it were that simple.
"But if you want," she continued, "I'll close my eyes on the condition that you close yours as well."
He traced the curve of her hip through the silk of her dress, marveling at the way she shivered at his touch. "I want to giveyou pleasure first, and I don't want you to do anything other than just feel."
The smile that bloomed on her face was radiant. "How can I say no to such an enticing offer?"
Her trust humbled him. This ancient, powerful woman was placing herself in his hands, allowing herself to be vulnerable with him.
Moving down the bed with deliberate slowness, he lifted her foot and removed her delicate sandal. The action was oddly intimate, servant-like, and worshipful at once. "Your eyes are still open," he said, pressing kisses to her toes, drawing a surprised gasp from her.
"You are still dressed," she countered, her voice breathier than before. "I'm not missing seeing you undressed."
He tickled her foot in gentle retaliation, delighting in her laughter. "Do as I say."
"Are you getting bossy with me?" The throaty quality of her voice sent heat straight through him.
"Never." He repeated the reverent attention on her other foot, kissing each toe. "I wouldn't dare."
"Somehow, I think you would." She stretched like a cat, all sinuous grace and barely contained power.
Removing her gown proved as simple as sliding the thin straps down her arms and drawing the fabric away. The revelation of her body being bare beneath the dress nearly undid his control. She was perfection incarnate, every curve and plane designed to inspire worship.
"You really are a work of art," he whispered, smoothing his palms over her inner thighs with reverent touches, gently encouraging her to open for him.
The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, calling to something primal within him. It took all his willpower not to dive between her legs immediately like a man possessed. But this wasn't about his need—it was about hers. About worshiping the goddess within her.
Tamira sighed and finally closed her eyes, submitting to his gentle guidance.
Dimly, Eluheed was aware that he wasn't following any practiced script. He hadn't kissed her lips first, hadn't paid homage to her breasts, hadn't followed the typical progression of seduction. Instead, he was letting instinct guide him, somehow knowing what Tamira needed without words. He had a knack for sensing the unspoken, and right now, every fiber of her being was crying out for something different, something unexpected.
A woman who had known countless lovers over millennia needed something different.
"Fates!" Tamira exclaimed the moment his lips made contact with her heated center, her back arching involuntarily off the bed.
He placed his palms over her thighs to hold her steady, anchoring her as he explored her with reverent devotion. His tongue swept over her delicate folds, learning her taste, her texture, the way she responded to different pressures and rhythms. He circled her opening teasingly before plunging inside, drawing a keening sound from her throat that made his own arousal almost explode.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him against her as her movements grew increasingly frantic. She was close, her body trembling on the precipice. Five thousand years of experience, and yet she responded to him like she was starving just for him and this particular touch.
"I need to come, Elias." The words were half-command, half-plea.
He could refuse her nothing.
Sliding two fingers inside her welcoming heat, he closed his lips around her most sensitive spot and sucked gently.
