Fires Within

An eRedSage Publishing Publication This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the authors imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever is forbidden. Information: Red Sage Publishing, Inc. • P.O. Box 4844 • Seminole, FL 33775 727-391-3847 • eRedSage.com Fires Within An eRed Sage Publication • All Rights Reserved • Copyright © 2008 eRedSage is a registered trademark of Red Sage Publishing, Inc. Visit us on the World Wide Web: http://www.eRedSage.com ISBN: 978-1-60310-182-0 • 1-60310-182-9 • Fires Within • Adobe PDF ISBN: 978-1-60310-183-7 • 1-60310-183-7 • Fires Within • MobiPocket ISBN: 978-1-60310-184-4 • 1-60310-184-5 • Fires Within • MS Reader ISBN: 978-1-60310-185-1 • 1-60310-185-3 • Fires Within • HTML Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows: Fires Within © 2008 By Roxana Blaze Cover © 2008 by Rika Singh, Inc. Printed in the U.S.A. Book typesetting by: Quill & Mouse Studios, Inc. • quillandmouse.com

Fires Within ***

by Roxana Blaze

To My Reader: I’ve always been fascinated by fountains filled with people’s coinstheir most intimate, secret wishes. Each coin has a clandestine story behind it, angst, revenge, tears, love, and even naughtiness. It was with much curiosity that, as the creative writer, I chose to pluck two random coins from a magical fountain on a Caribbean island almost 300 years ago and give them another toss. Who knows what fantasies might come true once those coins tumble back into the pages of my book?

Fires Within: Chapter 1 Bahamas, 1716 “Please let the legend be true. Please,” Katja McNeal whispered to the enormous, ancient statue overlooking the pool with its low marble wall. “I pray you hear my heart’s desire and grant my wish.” Seagulls cawed and circled overhead, breaking her solitary reverie. Katja glanced around the Savana Rios oceanfront monument. The Caribbean waters pounded against the beach behind her, while before her the fountain tinkled with its beautifully designed waterfall. When a sudden balmy breeze whipped inland, she caught the scents of brine and the island’s spicy, tropical foliage. Beyond the docks and over a craggy ridge, the sun rose crimson and glorious, its rays bathing the legendary fountain and its stony Adonis in an ethereal, golden glow that snatched the breath from her lungs. She let out a quivering sigh. She was stalling. It was now or never. Soon the town would awaken. Already, the shipping docks far up the coast stirred with preparations for coming voyages. If she didn’t make haste, someone might see her. Then the rumors would fly through the village that pirate Captain McNeal’s wife must be dissatisfied in her life, seeing fit to journey all the way down the hillside just to call upon the statue. Nay, she would not put herself or Rafe through the scandal of that. She must quit dallying and do it now. It was the only hope she had left that might save her marriage. Katja drew in a sharp breath, then slowly released the air between pursed lips. She clamped her eyelids shut and murmured, “I wish you would help me to be desirable to my husband once again.” On a whim, she kissed the silver coin and flicked it upward with her thumb. When she opened her eyes, she followed its tumbling ascent and descent, end over end. It seemed to rise high into the brilliant dawn sky, making a slow arced trek before finally dropping into the pool with a splash.

Something drew her gaze upward again. She gasped. “What—?” Had that been a twinkling wink in the handsome statue’s eye? “Nay, it cannot be.” It was a ridiculous thought, utterly preposterous. Masterpieces of any sort, be they paintings upon canvas, bronze sculptures, or stone carvings, did not wink. What’s more, this idea of coming here to make a wish upon the statue felt nothing short of ludicrous, despite the legend that wishes did come true after tossing a coin into the famous fountain. Wealth, health, happiness, sweet revenge, or whatever one desired, could be obtained by a select lucky few. Allegedly. After Rafe’s usual excuse last evening—“I am too exhausted, busy, and preoccupied with my crew, darling.”—Katja had risen before sunrise and had driven like a madwoman down to the large circular fountain set on the edge of the town square. She scanned the vicinity. Still nary a soul about. Good. Just as well. She spun on her heel and marched to the carriage. Propping one foot on the low step, she shot one last look over her shoulder. The statue stood as still as ever. Nothing felt different, nor did it look out of the ordinary, despite that wink she could have sworn she had seen in the watchful eye of the stone figure. “You are a fool, Katja,” she scolded under her breath, and with that, she climbed into the carriage and snapped the reins. The steed took off with a jolt, trotting up the narrow dirt lane to the mansion where she had lost her heart, her love, and her marriage all within the span of a few months. What should she do now? A tear stung the corner of one eye when the dark and foreboding solution echoed in her head. Divorce. *** It had been a foolish wish. Katja lay abed that night staring up at the ceiling with Rafe’s body heat enveloping her and his even breathing filling the quiet space of the room. She supposed she could have wished for his undying love, but frankly, she had moved beyond that long ago. Instead, she could easily initiate a steamy

affair with any number of suitors on the island, especially when Rafe embarked on one of his long voyages. Katja could get all the “love” she wanted, but when it came right down to it, more than anything in this world, she wanted her husband’s hands on her. Not a divorce. She sighed aloud. Nay, she yearned to see the return of that gleam of lust in his mysterious blue eyes. She longed to be the object of his rabid, sexual urges, to lay spread beneath him as he pounded into her depths and brought her to paradise and back. Oh, God, if only…. Katja suppressed a strangled cry as flames suddenly ignited in her loins. But she ignored the sensations and instead remembered her nervous wish that dawn at the fountain. Her eyebrows dipped and her eyes narrowed. What had she to lose? Happiness? Love? Sexual fulfillment? She snorted. Ha. She had none of those things, and all of them to gain if only the legend proved true. And yet he slept, peacefully curled on his side, beside her. Who in hell cared anymore? She did not. She just wanted a man! Preferably her Rafe, but she wasn’t holding her breath any longer. Mayhap it was her strong Greek heritage making her so very shameless in her needs? But it made no difference anymore—nothing else in this world mattered. She simply burned for sexual satisfaction, burned for him. Always she would burn for Rafe. It was not a vague, easily dismissed ache, but a relentless, smoldering blaze deep in her womb. She couldn’t help letting her gaze glide over to fall upon him. In the dim twilight, her hungry eyes traced his well-muscled back. She devoured the outline of one strong arm resting atop his side, the firm buttocks just barely discernible beneath the white linen sheet, and the wide shoulder framed against the night sky by the window of their luxurious master suite. “My Rafe,” she whispered in the still room. “What has hap-

pened to us?” She pressed her fist against her teeth, vividly recalling the sensation of her husband’s taut muscles—made so by the rigors of pirating—bunching beneath her fingertips. Katja could almost feel the wicked pleasure of scraping her nails down his smooth back as an orgasm ripped through her center. She bit down on her hand to keep from reaching out and waking him. Dull pain throbbed in her knuckle. But still the relentless need drove her. Katja stretched her arm out, fingers splayed, hand trembling. It was an enormous bed fit for a king, for a wealthy ship’s captain and his wife of three years, the mistress of his fine manor. However, the bed had one flaw. It allowed huge distances between them. Always, there seemed to be a distance. “Unless….” Unless her wish had already been granted without her knowing it? Her pulse quickened and her clitoris swelled in anticipation. True, it was a foolish notion to entertain, and yet—her palm hovered above his bicep—there was only one way to find out. Nay. Katja pulled her hand back. She would only face more rejection. But you must get relief! Don’t be such a coward. She reached out again, further, further still. So close. Her fingers were so near to his brawny shoulder, she could feel the heat rising off his body. Almost there. A mere breath’s space and she would be touching her husband’s flesh for the first time since before his departure on his last profitable excursion. He had just returned after ten long weeks at sea. He had pillaged, he had thieved, he had built his fortune to pamper his wife as every brigand should. With each mansion he built her, with every rich bauble and trinket, he pampered her. Except he didn’t provide her the one thing she truly wished for. His long, granite-hard cock pummeling her to the depths of her soaking core.

She snatched back her hand on a suppressed sigh and flopped onto her back. There was no use wasting her time or putting herself through his rebuff yet again. Night after night he had avoided her, or downright rejected her bold advances with nary a word of explanation. And night after night, she had burned for him. Forlorn, Katja stared up at the beamed ceiling. Even with the balmy Caribbean breeze starting to gust in through the slightly open French doors, her incessant ardor could not be cooled. She closed her eyes, remembering the long-ago days and nights spent in Rafe’s arms, his roguish lust never slaked, his robust sex drive every woman’s wildest dream. That sensation of first entry, of his beautiful shaft invading her tight sheath—Theos help her, to think of it took her breath away and made the fires burn hotter! Spreading her legs, she slid her hand down her quivering belly and under her whisper-thin, silky gown. She didn’t know why she bothered wearing the provocative garments anymore. He never gave any indication of noticing. It seemed he was always engrossed in his maps and ledgers, or the gold-spined literature books he hoarded from captured Spanish naval vessels. If he wasn’t here at the manor ignoring her, he was down in Savana Rios at the shipyards for hours, even days on end, readying his fleet of schooners for his next voyage, or plundering the latest galleon towed in after his last conquest at sea. He might as well be making love to all his motley crew or to the ladies of the evening offering themselves at the docks. Perhaps that was the problem. But it didn’t matter at this point. She didn’t care anymore if or when he received his own relief! She just needed him—needed someone—wanted to be filled by a hard shaft more than anything else in this world. Like a shameless harlot, she had attempted to entice him day in and day out, to no avail. A lone tear beaded at the corner of one eye. She paid it no heed. It did little good to cry anymore. Wallowing in self-pity only made the pain and isolation that much worse. Nay, Katja did not need a good cry.

She needed cock. A man. A hard, sinewy, and strong man, one adept at bringing a woman pleasure. Multiple times. With practiced skill and without exhaustion. Determined to get temporary relief, she rubbed her pussy to soothe the throbbing. Where had she gone wrong? When had the torture of loneliness begun? Or rather, when—nay, why—had their relationship ended? She traced her damp labia with a fingertip, her belly quickening at her own expert touch, even as her mind wandered. Maybe she was getting too old for his tastes? At eight and twenty, she had already been married once and subsequently widowed. But Katja kept herself in shape. She dressed in fine clothing befitting the wife of a feared and wealthy pirate. Her olive complexion remained smooth and youthful. Aye, she had gained a few pounds in the last few months, but she had always had a thin build before. The extra weight filled out her curves and made her appear more lush and womanly. Friends and even strangers commented on her porcelain skin, emerald eyes, and classic brunette beauty. Why then, did he not see it? Katja exhaled noisily. No use beating a dead cat to death. But maybe, just maybe, eight more lives remained in that kitten. Bah. Wishful thinking. Instead of wasting her time hoping for the impossible, Katja focused on meeting her own needs—she had to, before she imploded with frustration. Her finger skimmed over the patch of pubic hair and found her swollen clitoris buried within. She hitched in a breath and held it as the flames shot higher with each circular motion over the bud. The contented tempo of Rafe’s breathing filled her ears, so she closed her eyes, drew up her knees and imagined that sound to be his panting pleasure instead. In her fantasy, Rafe rolled toward her, scooting low, his head burrowing between her thighs. Her finger became his tongue, one lingering lick from her slick cunt to her swollen clit. Slowly tasting her honey, he inserted a long finger into her and grazed that sensitive spot deep inside her. She arched up, slamming her cleft against

his mouth. He picked up the tempo of his tongue, so warm, so wet, swirling around her hard pearl as he inserted two more digits inside her. Her cream coated his fingers and palm. He pumped faster, licked harder. Then, just when she thought she would explode in maddening ecstasy, he growled and withdrew, yanking her across the mattress until his cock plunged into her core. She let out a cat’s meow. Her breathing went shallow and she caught the aroma of her own juices on his face. He nipped the flesh along her neck, sending gooseflesh shimmering up and down her body as he pounded into her time and time again. His mouth searched frantically, finally finding hers. The bittersweet flavor of her own sex burst on her taste buds when his warm mouth sealed over hers. His tongue sliced into her mouth like a blade, wicked and dangerous. She opened her whole body to him, every orifice, every crevice. He gripped her buttocks, pulling out and slamming back into her pussy in such rapid succession, she feared she would lose her mind in the euphoria of it. Her hands were everywhere, kneading the corded muscles of his arms, scraping her nails down his narrow back, squeezing his hard ass. But as the orgasm drew nearer, the fantasy of Rafe started to fade. She whimpered, nearly coming off the bed, her pelvis bucking upward even as she tried desperately to hold fast to the vision. Nay, it seemed her own finger sunk into her passage couldn’t equate with Rafe’s huge, delicious cock. Still, Katja pumped frantically, fucking herself, adding a second and then a third digit just as he had in her thoughts only moments ago. Her hips undulated, meeting her own thrusts—nay, it was Rafe’s long, thick fingers filling her, his wet tongue increasing in pressure and velocity on her cleft. She could even smell him, his faint sweat mixing with the clean scent of his soap, her own perfume and her sex-cream. Her mouth watered, craving his faintly salty, granite-hard cock between her lips. Her free hand—his hand—dragged up her hip, across her ribcage, and cupped one

breast through the thin bodice of her night garment. The pinch of her nipple nearly did the trick. She rolled the areola between her fingers, lifting the heavy mound, fucking herself with her other hand. And then it claimed her, the bliss of shattering fulfillment. Her body twitched. She fought to keep her gasping breaths quiet so as not to awaken Rafe. She rubbed herself harder, drawing out the last waves of ecstasy, ignoring the immediate sense of loneliness that assailed her. Gradually, she relaxed. Katja shoved down her gown, pulled the blankets over her perspiring flesh, and clamped her tear-filled eyes shut. Exhausted, every muscle spent, it didn’t take long for her to tumble into dreams. *** Katja. Her eyes fluttered open, then shut again. She didn’t know where the unfamiliar, deep tone had come from, but for heaven’s sake, could it not have come at a better time? She had been in a sorely needed, deep sleep. Or perhaps she still slumbered, merely dreaming that a strange male voice called out to her? “The diabolos, be damned.” Her whisper seemed to echo as if she remained asleep. Her gaze darted frantically around the darkened room, but of course no one was there, not in her mind’s eye nor in the bedroom. The voice had been within her groggy imagination, a figment of her current state of reverie, thank God. Katja. There it was again. In this odd state of languidness, she felt as if she floated from the bed. Naturally, Rafe didn’t stir at her rising movements. Of course not. Why would he? He no doubt would continue his indifference toward her. What’s more, he was also naught but a vision within her dreaming mind. She crossed to the small side table near the French doors and, on impulse, snatched up a bottle of brandy. To hell with the glass.

In dreams a woman could defy any bit of decorum she chose. Katja popped out the crystal stopper and took a long swig straight from the bottle. The fiery, potent liquid slid down her throat. Zestos, she was so damn hot, she needed some air this instant! Katja, come to me. She gasped, snapping her wild-eyed gaze toward the slightly open doors. Uncaring of her scant state of dress, she took several shaky steps toward the portal and the alluring male voice. Reckless and free, she tipped up the bottle and took another swallow as she went. Holding tight to a bravery she wouldn’t normally feel during waking hours, she flung the double doors wide open. The powerful rush of the surf seemed so very real, all at once flooding her ears with its age-old song. The winds plastered her gown against her perspiring limbs, and the curtains billowed inward. Inhaling the salty sea air, she stepped out onto the moonlit, private veranda, determined to do nothing but get soused on dream brandy and night air. “Hello.” Katja screeched at the deep-timbred voice not three feet to her left. It no longer echoed in her head as it had in the beginning of the dream. Still, it enthralled her by its strong tone of command and almost tangible sensuality. Her head turned trancelike toward the voice, and that was when she saw him, a giant of a man who seemed to fill the entire space of the veranda. Her hand quivered. She felt the cold glass slip from her fingers even as she continued to stare agog at him. He strode forward and caught the bottle right before it dropped from her clammy grip. “Please don’t be afraid.” A current of fear tore through her whole body in spite of the soothing cadence of his voice. The man wrapped warm, long fingers around hers, securing her hold on the neck of the bottle. “I won’t harm you, Katja.” She blinked, once, twice. Her heart hammered in her chest. “H-

how do you know my name?” Ah, of course. I must remember this is a dream. Anything can happen. Calm down, Katja. You will awaken soon. “You already know the answer to that.” His palm branded the back of her hand and sent a shocking, unexpected trail of desire straight to her belly. She studied the square jaw, the straight nose and full lips. The man was breathtakingly handsome, like a god or a— “Are you an angelos?” Her eyes suddenly flared with recognition. “Wait, you are—Theos on high, you are—ah, I am still dreaming.” He chuckled, and the adoring sound of it seemed to slither down her spine and flood hot and sweltering into her loins. “Nay, you are most certainly not dreaming.” How would he know if she dreamed or not? “Who are you? Nay, allow me to amend that inquiry. I recognize you, but how can this be? Even within the freedom of delusions, this would be difficult to accept.” Her gaze raked from the chin-length black waves to his bare feet. Son of a bitch, he was naked! Aye, everything about him could only be that of a god. She traced his strong build with her eyes. In the moonlight, each muscle was defined by shadowed curves and strong lines. His skin glowed full-bodied bronze as if he had basked in the sun nude. She took in the wide shoulders, his firm pectorals tipped by dark brown nipples, and a most rippled abdomen void of even one ounce of fat. “They call me Warlun. Only Warlun.” His breath warmed her cheek as he spoke, and his hand scalded hers where he still assisted her in holding onto the bottle. “And aye, if by chance you harbor doubt, I am from the fountain.” “Warlun.” She swallowed perceptibly, letting the sound of his name roll off her tongue. His eyes beheld hers, enthralling her with some sort of mystical power. “From the fountain in Savana Rios?” “Aye, but you already knew that, did you not, Katja?”

As his body’s heat suffused into her hand and his gaze warmed her soul, the tenseness in her muscles melted away. With a strange sense of solace, she realized she no longer experienced the vague apprehension that had first gripped her. Unable to help herself, she smiled up at him. She liked this illusory dream man, and certainly enjoyed the deep timbre of his voice and the quiet sort of power exuded by his stature and presence. Relieved now, Katja chose to enjoy the dream. Already her clitoris throbbed with intensity, blooming to life, engorging at the upper cleft of her sex-lips. Ignoring it for the time being, she finally responded to his question. “Nay. I but tossed a coin into the pool and made a silly wish.” Powerless to resist the wanton pleasure of it—and why not, if all this had been conjured up within her mind?—she let her scrutiny slide down between their bodies and latch onto his impressive cock. At the wicked sight of his massive erection, her pussy clenched in response, trickling a warm spill of cum down her already damp inner thighs. “But at the time, you were all stone, not just your—never mind.” “Not just my cock, you mean?” He leaned nearer. His mammoth body’s heat enveloped her in bliss like no dream before now. A night breeze stirred ashore, bombarding her with his masculine scent. It sent her pulse spiking erratically, pumping blood through her veins so swiftly, she felt faint. The size and shape of his manhood made her think of Rafe’s sword, large, slightly scooped, and menacing. The man’s tool filled her with a crazed need almost as dangerous as the very weapon she likened it to. This was pure torture. She felt a swell of regret and near weepiness that it wasn’t her husband’s eager cock jutting toward her for the taking. Katja finally dragged her stare up to the face, and watched as his black-as-sin orbs glittered with humor. The eyes were so dark, so penetrating, there was no way to discern where the pupils ended and the irises began. “Aye.” Katja bit the word out and reminded herself, I am dreaming. “It appears your phallos is the only thing remaining hard. I

only say—observe—that because you are unavoidably, um, nude.” He tugged the bottle from her grip and set it on a nearby veranda table. His hand cupped her jaw, tipping her face up so she had no choice but to look him directly in the eye. His free arm snaked around her waist and yanked her against his nakedness. “That is the way you want me. Is it not? Nude?” “Oh, aye—nay. I—please, pray tell, what is this all about?” His erection pressed into her from her V all the way up past her navel. It felt as if an iron rod had been caught between their bodies. Fantasies assailed her. In her mind’s deeper eye, a dream within the dream, she watched herself claw her way up his hard body, wrapping her legs around his hips, settling the head of that impressive weapon at her moist entrance. And plunging her pussy down on him in one swift, rabid move. Ah, if only she could do it in reality. “Katja, sweet, sweet Katja. It’s all about this—you see, you typically conjure up your desires and then waste them by keeping them locked inside of that pretty head of yours. It’s very simple. You’re in emotional turmoil. You’re in desperate need. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come to me at the fountain. So we will act upon those desires. Do them for once—now, tonight.” As if to demonstrate, he slid a hand up her spine, up along the nape of her neck. He cradled her skull with one hand while pressing her body against the warm, hard length of his with the other. Slowly, maddeningly, he tilted his head to the side, swooped down, and finally claimed her lips in a hungry kiss.

Fires Within: Chapter 2 Hot. Wet. Delicious. The words came to her in fragments of delirium. The blade of his tongue traced her lips then forced its way into her mouth with a slow, firm dip. She opened up, accepting him in, tasting some sort of tropical flavor she couldn’t quite place. The tingle made her toes curl. It felt as if an invisible thread of pleasure wound from her tongue, down to her womb, right out to every last inch of her limbs. “You came to me on the first day of the full moon. Therefore, your ‘silly’ wish, as you chose to characterize it moments ago, is my every command,” he whispered against her mouth, his breath warm as he dragged his lips over hers, his voice husky with male coveting. “I asked to become desirable to my husband once again,” she replied into the kiss, devouring him in return, winding her arms around his neck and suddenly wanting to forget her wish. And her husband. After all, this was a dream, and dreams were safe, were they not? “You are obviously not Rafe, so I don’t see how you can single-handedly achieve that goal.” “Ah, but there are more ways to make a man want you than to be with him alone.” “Aye, but I—” He didn’t give her time to argue, nor did she attempt a protest. Rafe had been depriving her of intimacy for weeks, even months. While Katja preferred her husband, she had been neglected far too long. She simply wanted to be ravished by a man, oh, and aye, this godlike man conjured up from a fountain’s statue would do quite nicely. Knowing she dreamed gave her the permission she needed to step over that line of forbidden behavior. “Now. I need you now before I awaken.” With one arm still hooked around his neck, she reached down with her free hand, bunched her gown in her fist, and pulled the garment up around her waist. She leaped up and he caught her, anticipating her needs, helping her to straddle his waist. The tip

of his long cock was now poised just below her hole. He held her there, his arms strong and warm about her hips and waist. She drew in a long inhalation when he slid her down, wedging the head of his cock at her entrance before slipping into her, inch by maddening inch. “Ahh, yes, there you go,” Warlun growled. “Ride me hard and wet. Fuck me until we both scream with pleasure.” Theos help her, what did she do to deserve such a vivid, hot dream! With a long groan of capitulation, Katja leaned backward over the veranda’s rocky wall, bowing her neck, holding her arms out like a raven in flight. She soared, her long hair tossed on the wind, her eyes crossing at the utter depravity of it, of finally quenching that sexual thirst. The sensation of fullness, the satisfaction of that secret, sensitive spot deep inside her at long last getting the attention it so needed—it was enough to make her sob in relief. She drew in a long, contented breath, her inner walls swallowing his huge cock and coating it with her woman’s lubricant. Aromas wafted on the night breeze and made her moan—her own spicy arousal, the balmy sea-salt air, and the enticing fragrance of male perspiration, the kind that only emerged during robust mating. So tempting, so utterly sexual. All so fucking mouth-watering. Katja rode him fiercely, this dreamy man who seemed to know her every wish, her every desire. Off across the black waters of the night sea, heat lightning flickered and thunder rumbled. She knew the storm’s temperament well, that long brew of tension, the build of fiery, powerful need. Katja could smell the coming rain, so pure, so euphoric, and she knew without a doubt the final downpour would soothe the flames within the eye of her own storm. Her sexual tempest. “Mmm, I want to taste all of you, completely eat you alive.” Warlun shifted his stance, planting his feet far apart. He ducked his head and suckled on one breast. His arms supported her back as she leaned over. His hips were enslaved by her thighs. She whimpered when his wet tongue laved across the taut bud, sending lashes of heat to her loins. Hooking her ankles tighter

behind him, she changed tempo to a slow pelvic undulation upon his long girth. Frissons of bliss sparked in her pussy and traveled through her system, boiling her blood. She slid the fingers of one hand into his thick, wavy hair, holding his head so that his mouth remained in place upon her breast. He suckled harder in response and gently bit down on the pebbled nipple. With a growl he tore free, leaving her tit damp with his kisses. His large hands explored, traveled lower, two sizzling brands upon her buttocks. He panted. His powerful, corded arms flexed as his big hands assisted her in her dance of need. His mouth returned to her breast, blazing a trail from the swell of aching flesh, up along her collarbone, to that spot beneath her jaw where her pulse leaped out of her skin. Sucking, biting, he forced the fires within to build just short of exploding. She could feel the outer edges of the climax reaching for her, could hear the thunder rumble an octave louder as the storm drew nearer. Droplets of rain began to spatter down upon her perspiring flesh, at first so lightly she thought it to be Warlun’s sweat splattering her. He stood there holding her, his muscles flexing as he fucked her harder, faster, traversing depths inside her channel she thought never stimulated before. More sounds filled her ears, the joyous songs of vigorous sex, her ass slapping his hips, their ragged breathing and moaning, the slurping as he pulled out, rammed back in. The surf slammed against the rocks and dragged back frothy and cool over the sandy shore. The rush and ebb of the tide filled her ears even as her own tide built to near bursting. Though she knew the town slept, Katja added more fuel to the dream. She imagined the townspeople standing on the beach below the veranda, beyond the rocky slope that skirted the mansion, watching her with bated breath, aroused, waiting for her to fly. Warlun pushed her to carnal insanity. He grazed one hand across her buttocks until he located her asshole. Katja let out a choked scream when he circled her tight rectum, flicking his fingertip over it as if he stimulated her clitoris. She nearly came undone. Never

would she imagine that private place on her body could bring her such pleasure. The taboo of it, the sheer, shocking pleasure, made her wonder why Rafe, one of the most depraved rogues this side of the Caribbean, had never introduced her to this wicked tactic of lovemaking. “Patience, Katja. You will understand everything very soon.” He didn’t give her time to counter. Instead, he captured her mouth in a devastating kiss that, coupled with the stimulation of her anus and his talented sword buried within her, all but catapulted her over the edge into the sweet clutches of insanity. Katja didn’t have to ask how he knew to answer a question she had not spoken out loud. Just as he seemed to know she yearned for a man’s touch, just as he seemed to know everywhere her body burned for attention, he knew her thoughts. “Forgive me, but at this point, I don’t need to know.” She kissed him back, her full lips dragging hungrily back and forth over his warm, tasty mouth. “Just take me there, take me to your paradise. I’m ready, so ready.” “Very well.” His dark eyes flashed with the lightning. His sinewy upper body flexed as he lifted her up just far enough so that the tip of his cock barely remained inside her cunt. His muscles were defined by a slick glisten of both rain and sweat. Katja kept her ankles locked behind him while planting her hands on his burly shoulders. She beheld his intent gaze, anticipating his next move as the winds blew his long black hair across the backs of her hands. In one swift downward motion, he speared her. She dug her fingers into his damp shoulders, trying desperately to suppress the noise bubbling inside her windpipe. But it was no use. The air she had been holding captive inside her lungs escaped her throat in a wanton, feline scream. Katja’s head fell back, and Warlun buried his face in the hollow of her neck, kissing, sucking her flesh. His finger returned to that wickedly sensitive area, sinking into her rectum, and she finally catapulted over the cliff of madness she had teetered on only moments ago.

Overhead lightning streaked across the ominous night sky. Thunder clapped. The rain splattered her face in fat drops as the delicious orgasm ripped through her pelvis. It started in her center, deep inside at that secret spot, and rippled out from there like the tidal wave in a storm out to sea. It built higher, higher still, carrying her upon an endless crest of satiation. Warlun stumbled backward and grunted, clutching her trembling body to his, spilling his hot seed inside her womb. As his pleasure ebbed, so did hers. Hot tears burst from her eyes, pouring down her cheeks even as the storm passed and the rain turned to a soft mist. Her arms clamped about his neck, her legs about his hips, while his cock remained inside her pussy. “Thank you,” she whispered, showering his finely chiseled cheeks, his strong nose, his mouth with kisses of gratitude. “Thank you for coming to me in my dream and easing my pain.” “Kat—” At the sound of Rafe’s deep, familiar voice, her eyes widened. She whipped her head around and gasped, frozen in the naughty position. With her limbs still wrapped around Warlun, and his shaft very much sheathed by her pussy, she felt like the statue Warlun had once been. Rafe stood there naked and proud, his erect cock encircled by one hand, his pale blue eyes glittering in the light of the justemerging full moon. Totally nude, his tall, muscular buccaneer’s form filled the space of the open French doors. She blinked, swallowed audibly. “Rafe?” “Aye, your husband,” Warlun offered, undaunted. Is it a dream? “Nay,” Warlun replied to her questioning thought. “As I relayed earlier, ‘tis not a dream. ‘Tis real.” “Oh, Theos, no. How can this be?” She fought to be released, her arms and legs flailing. Never mind the uncomfortable pull and tug of Warlun’s cock jostling and poking her womb. She had to separate her wicked, licentious body from his posthaste! Warlun lifted her away and set her down so her feet touched the rain-slick-

ened, hard surface of the veranda. “I had a wish, too, wife, only hours after you fled to the fountain.” Rafe stepped out into the misty, luminous night and sauntered toward her. His voice was edged by barely controlled wrath. Her heart beat so erratically, she feared it might explode. Her body began to tremble out of control, and she couldn’t dislodge her voice from her throat. What could his wish have been? To beat her? To divorce her? To see her dead? Katja didn’t know what to think, what was real or false. Her pulse surged into her throat and sealed off the air she attempted to drag into her lungs. Aye, his shaft stood more rigid than she had ever seen it before, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen his manhood at odds with his foul moods. Katja backed away, her breasts bouncing in her haste. As if to remind her of her horrid act, whether real or otherwise, Warlun’s semen seeped from her cunt and trailed hot and sticky down her inner thighs. It was a cruel reminder of what she had just done. Was it, or was it not, a dream? It certainly felt real, though that would mean a statue she’d wished upon not nineteen hours before had truly come to life. Which would also indicate he— it—Warlun had sought her out, she had committed adultery, and Warlun had pleasured her. All while her husband watched! It also meant she was as good as dead. Theos help her, what a spoiled, selfish, depraved chit she had been, even if she’d thought it a dream. The lash of terror and raw shame made her body sway and her vision blur. Katja couldn’t draw breath even though cool gusts of the waning storm blew around her and fluttered her long nightgown about her quivering body. She set one hand on the rocky wall—the very one she had just soared over while Warlun fucked her into blissful sin—and tried to steady the wave of sudden dizziness. “Rafe, if this is in truth reality, I am so sorry. But I—I thought— oh, I am such a fool!” Katja took two more shaky steps toward the stairs leading down

to the beach. Her vision clouded with tears. Panicked, she looked toward the white-tipped waves pitching angrily in the aftermath of the storm, and she longed to dive right into the welcoming abyss, never to emerge again. I must flee. Without thinking of the consequences, she spun and darted down the stairs. Her bare feet slapped on the wet stone stairs, then upon the packed sand of an island that had no safe haven for an adulterous woman, for her pirate husband ruled the entire landmass. Katja ran as if the fires of hell licked at her heels. She thought of the sea churning out its fury. Rafe had to be just as furious with her. He would punish her, she was certain of it. What should she do? Where should she go? To the fountain. “Aye, the fountain.” She lifted her gown as she ran. She would fish a coin out of the fountain’s depths and make another wish. This one would be to wake up in her husband’s bed, to have this all be a horrible nightmare. Or perhaps, for the love of all that was merciful, to be transported to the blessed moon, far, far away from this place. “Katja!” Rafe’s booming voice carried out over the rushing surf. Ahead, she could see the half-circle of coconut palms that curtained off the fountain from the village square. The fronds clicked in the breeze and swayed against the starry sky. As she neared, gasping for every ounce of air, she could hear the tinkle of the water spilling down a wall into the pool below. Her feet and toes were caked with grainy sand, but she cared not. Katja simply wanted to get there, to steal a coin from the bottom of the pool and make a wish posthaste before Rafe caught up to her. Perhaps ten steps to go— Katja halted at a dead stop. To her dismay, Rafe stood in the fountain pool, totally nude, the water riding up to about mid-thigh. His cock was semi-hard and arched out over the surface of the water. The very sight of it made her pussy involuntarily clench and

her clitoris go hard with need. Warlun’s stone figure no longer perched tall and proud upon the platform at the center of the pool. Instead, his flesh-and-blood form stood naked at Rafe’s left. They both had their burly arms crossed over the swell of finely chiseled chests and their fathomless eyes fixed upon her, waiting. “How can this be?” From where she stood, she couldn’t fully discern Rafe’s expression, but something odd, something very strange crackled in the air between them. Why, oh why, had she been such a shameless harlot, yearning for cock, any cock? Why had she gone to this fountain in the first place? Katja couldn’t ignore the fact that he was unclothed—oh, so naked. And his erection rivaled that of Warlun’s. It snatched the pent-up air from her lungs and made her giddy with lust. She tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t help wondering how long he had been watching them make love, and if the current state of his cock had been due to what he had seen or merely a nighttime erection he had just awakened with. Nay, this was depravity at its worst. Her eyes burned with hot moisture. She slapped the back of one hand against her mouth. Nerves fluttered in her belly, and in hopes of dispelling them, she bit down on the flesh of one knuckle. The pain felt so real. “Katja, nay, don’t weep.” The water in the pool sloshed as Rafe waded to the edge and stepped over the low marble wall, his glorious cock bouncing as he went. He left Warlun behind in the water. The god-man looked so very handsome behind her stunning husband. It conjured up visions of two fierce, legendary Vikings of days long past. “Nay, nay, that will be enough, wife.” Rafe was suddenly at her side, his voice edged by something—was that remorse she heard beneath the near-bark of his words? She didn’t have time to analyze it, nor to run. He snatched her into his strong arms, pressing her damp cheek against his hard, na-

ked chest. She smelled sweat and clean soap, and tasted the salt of her own tears. Her lower abdomen jumped at the stony feel of his rising manhood pressed long and tubular against her thinly covered flesh. His big hand petted her soaked tresses, his fingers so warm, his touch so loving, despite the clenching of his jaw. Then, with abrupt emotion she had never seen him exhibit before, he muttered a curse under his breath, swept her limp form into his strong arms, and carried her toward the fountain. “Hush….” It was the first time in months he had touched her so tenderly. It made her whimper with ecstasy, more so than the pleasure Warlun had just brought her. Cooing to her, calming her distress, Rafe held her trembling body close as he strode to the fountain’s low wall. Relief flooded her. “Then you aren’t angry with me, husband?” “Aye, that I am,” he growled, slanting a look of chastisement down at her. Hope sank in her chest like a rock falling into the depths of the sea. Would he punish her? Would he drown her in Warlun’s pool? Her pulse leaped in her throat, choking her. She was prepared to fight his hold on her and take flight, but his next words halted her. “For running from me when you know, no matter your sins, I would never hurt you.” Katja released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Oh, Rafe, I am a wretched anoitos,” she cried out, relieved he wouldn’t throttle her. Not knowing what else to do, she wound her arms around his neck as he stepped back over the wall and trudged through the water toward Warlun. “I wanted you, only you. I burned for you. But I was so lonely.” “’Tis all right, milady. And you aren’t a fool,” Warlun offered, circling his arms around Rafe as he continued to hold Katja. “You’re merely living out your heart’s wish. Your husband is, as well.” “Katja….” Her gaze riveted to Rafe’s tortured eyes. Why did her name upon his lips sound as if he were in pain? A shudder went up her

spine. Was that an omen? Was he prepared to divorce her? Was there some other horrid news he was about to break to her? Tears finally spent, she stared up at Rafe’s shadowed face. The full moon outlined his long golden hair tied back with a ribbon. His pale blue eyes narrowed. The silvery gash of a scar marred his bronzed right cheek, and another jagged one slashed across his forehead just below his hairline. In spite of the imperfections—nay, because of them—his knavish good looks had the power to reach the most hardened female heart. She loved this man. She truly did. Her heart ached with the depth of realization. Then how could she have just done such a deplorable thing to him? Katja didn’t want to think of it. She just wanted to stay here in his arms and savor the moment she was certain wouldn’t last. His lips were full, always so kissable and tempting, but currently the corners were tipped down in a frown as he caressed her face with his probing gaze. Katja waited for the words she fully expected to hear, words of parting, and of the impending lashing she so deserved. Or of death. “Katja, listen to me. Listen very closely.” He gently shook her, his stare and the urgent tone in his voice icing the very blood in her veins. “As Warlun said, I made a wish, as well. It was to….” He glanced away, but she caught his jaw and turned his face back to hers. “Speak your heart now, Rafe, before I die of utter madness. Tell me. Tell me, and end my suffering.” He swallowed audibly, and Katja thought with amazement that it was the first time she had ever seen her fierce husband at a loss for words. “My wish was to-to see you with another man, to watch and let him pleasure you as Warlun just did. Your displeasure, however, is all my fault. I’m all too aware I’ve neglected my husbandly duties in the last months.” “What? You—”

“Hush, please just hush for one moment, wife.” Cradling her in his arms, he tightened his hold and forced her face into the crook of his neck to muffle any further words she might try to speak. When he pulled her back, that look she knew so well entered his eyes, the one that said he needed to have his say now or he would lose his temper. “Give me a chance to explain. You deserve as much.” Finally, he set her down. The warm water in the pool rose to her knees. He cupped her jaw and tipped her face up so that she had no choice but to keep her gaze locked on his pleading one. “Please, my love, I want you to understand.” She nodded, encouraging him to go on, basking in his tender touch as he skimmed his hands down and caressed her soppingwet back. His fingers traveled up along her bare arms and combed adoringly through her damp tresses. “Before I seized your father’s ship and claimed you as mine, well before you captured my heart with your dazzling beauty, I had a penchant for indulging in-in both sexes.” The world tilted, quaked. His hands halted as he awaited her response. Katja’s eyes slowly widened at the import of his words. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but did you just say both sexes? As in females and gentlemen?” He cut a sharp look out to sea, then back at her, his gaze finally latching onto hers. “Aye. Both.” Something wicked spiraled down into her belly. She tried to picture her burly husband in the arms of a man. Her thoughts scattered, going back to a time over two years ago when she and Rafe were still newlyweds. She had overheard her galley staff snickering and gossiping about men fucking men. One female servant had participated in a ménage a trois and had witnessed man-to-man kissing and fondling and anal fucking. Even as her face had flushed crimson, Katja’s pulse had leaped to life that day, and there had been a quickening in her belly that had made her pussy shockingly slick with cream. After chastising her staff, she had promptly

excused herself and fled to her chambers to masturbate away the torturous, immoral images of two men together in intimacy, one fucking her while being pummeled by the other. It had become one of her many secret fantasies in all her loneliness. Why she had become so hot and wet imagining herself with Rafe while another man fucked and caressed him? It was beyond her realm of understanding and astounded her to the core of her morals. They were married, for God’s sake. Man and wife, never to be torn asunder. Still, she had to finally admit, she had burned for it. Her words came out breathy. “And that was the rest of your wish to Warlun, husband? To be with a man again?” “Aye, with you and a man. Three of us, at the same time.” He paused, clamping his eyes shut, opening them back up. “And now—that is, if you’ll grant your permission, my love—we’ll embark on that very journey.” Their gazes locked. In the depths of Rafe’s hopeful eyes, she finally uncovered the tortured soul beneath the blue ice. She would never have guessed such a depraved secret to be hidden inside him, but now that it had been released, she could see every angle and plane. How had she missed such an important part of him? She didn’t know, but instead of attempting to find her answers, she studied him further, thrilled at his nearness. Rafe appeared every bit the fierce, naked warrior, the ruthless pirate. A gold stud twinkled at one earlobe, and his powerful, foreboding body loomed enormous enough to frighten the life from the most hardened foe. Yet Katja, now apprised of his secret desires, caught the vulnerable glint in his eyes. He revealed a yearning for her to understand, for her to accept him as he was and welcome what he seemed to be proposing to her. Or was that fear behind the air of pride and the mask of savagery? Katja braced herself, unsure how she should respond. Was this a test? She’d never witnessed that particular look in Rafe’s eyes before, or heard such shocking, exciting words coming from his

mouth. With deliberation, she lifted her chin. Her heart knocked against her breastbone. “I don’t know what to say,” she blurted. Rafe ducked his head and pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. She tasted brandy. He must have indulged in a taste of spirits upon rising, just as she had, perhaps to calm his nerves at what he’d witnessed. And what he knew he would be revealing. “Say aye, milady. Please say you’ll welcome another man into our bed and our life.” Her pulse sprinted back to life. She could feel the engorgement of her clitoris and the moistening of her womanly folds. More than anything in the world, she wanted to share in this deliciously sinful fantasy Rafe had bravely decided to share with her. There could be only one answer. “I’ve missed you. I’ve smoldered with desperation for you to make love to me again. True, your desires shock me, but the idea of having you touch me, love me once again while we share a man—it excites me and leaves me no other choice. Aye, I grant my wholehearted permission.” Rafe let out a long, slow lungful of air. “Ah, then it is settled,” Warlun blurted, as if he briefly worried his charms couldn’t sway her. “It’s time to complete your desires. Come. Come into my heart, both of you. From within the magic of my fountain, I’ll show you pleasures and fulfillment like never before.” Katja sighed as Rafe caught her up in his arms again. She rested her head on her husband’s strong shoulder and waited with pounding loins for whatever wantonness awaited them. The sound of the rushing waterfall became louder, faster. The two men had her wedged between the walls of their chests, and her body jolted as if struck by a bolt of lightning. She squeezed her eyes shut and held onto Rafe’s neck for dear life. They were sucked into a warm vortex. Both men embraced Katja. She felt somewhat groggy, but it was a delicious sensation, as if her entire body had been massaged into blissful immobility.

When neither man spoke for several moments, Katja slowly opened her eyes. And what she saw was magic.

Fires Within: Chapter 3 “We are here,” Warlun announced. Her muscles feeling languid and spent, Katja stirred in Rafe’s embrace. She glanced around at the unfamiliar tropical beauty that surrounded them. A sharp gasp rent from her throat. “Simply omorfos!” Unlike the Savana Rios monument, they now stood before a true waterfall, and though she knew every tree and inlet of Rafe’s island, she didn’t recognize this Eden. Warlun had brought them into a pool of cool aqua water, obviously somewhere within his god’s world. It reminded her somewhat of Warlun’s fountain, but instead of overlooking the village and the pristine waters of the Caribbean, it was as if they had been set down amid a wild, divine paradise. It was no longer the dead of night. Palm trees arched overhead, their swaying fronds intermittently blocking the rays of the pale yellow sun. Tantalizing scents of pineapple, kiwi and coconut made Katja’s mouth water. The brightest light bathed every inch of her skin. “Katja.” She had never heard her name on his lips sound quite so moving and sensual all at once. She looked at the handsome face of the man tenderly cradling her in his arms, and she knew a sudden and comforting moment of total trust in her husband. His blue eyes as pristine as the sky, Rafe held her stare. He set her down, slowly submerging her lower body into the cool, waisthigh water. He pressed one hand to her cheek and tipped her face up, holding it captive. She had no choice but to witness the raw emotion emanating from him. Katja could feel the heat, the palpable love radiating from him. “You are the beautiful one, my love,” Rafe murmured. “The only one.” His impassioned tone cemented her trust in their marriage and banished any traces of doubt that may have been lurking beneath her heart’s surface. She knew instinctively that she would always

come first, that she would be his true love in this new phase of their marriage, no matter what man they invited into their bed. She shook her head. “There could be nothing in this world more attractive than the two of you in this heaven and the pleasure we are about to indulge in.” “Then you’re ready?” Rafe inquired with a faint resonance of doubt. Her gaze danced around the euphoric ambiance of their surroundings. Her heart raced and her loins quickened with desire. “Oh, aye, I’m ready, husband, to fulfill your wish.” “But what of Rafe’s second wish?” Warlun stood just behind Rafe. He threaded his fingers in Katja’s hair, his wrist lying intimately over the back of Rafe’s hand where he continued to cradle her face. To have Warlun touching her while also in contact with Rafe, ah, it made her knees go weak. “His first wish, to watch you pleasured by another man, has been seen to.” At the memory of their explosive encounter on the veranda, Katja felt a renewed dampening and engorgement of her inner passage. She became utterly giddy. Her breathing accelerated until she could do naught but pant. “The second—to make love to you while another man fucks him—is your husband’s fondest fantasy. I’m to be that man, Katja. Are you prepared for that, for the three of us to experience this new adventure together?” Though he couldn’t know it, Warlun’s raspy voice spoke not just of Rafe’s most intimate, scandalous desires. He also spoke of her own private fantasies of seeing two men intimate together. Her pussy clenched and carnal heat coiled in her belly. “I must confess, your fantasy intrigues me so, I fear I’ll drown in my own sexual juices.” She smiled coyly. “I often dreamed of it after overhearing our staff whisper of such naughtiness. So, aye, I’m more than ready.” Warlun nodded, his penetrating stare ensnaring Katja’s like a wizard casting a hypnotic spell upon her.

“And your wish was to be desirable to your husband once again. Do you see, Katja, it’s now so, as proven by his body’s hardened response to our lovemaking?” She studied the evidence, looking from one erect cock to another, and knew a moment of utter lust. Her mouth watered and her nipples tightened, sending a tingling blaze rushing into her quim. “Oh, aye, there’s no doubt of his desire, or yours.” Rafe looked down at himself. His member was long and veiny, the sac swollen, as if at any moment it would explode like gunpowder sparking in a cannon. Warlun’s manhood gleamed like satin in the sun’s white light, with Katja’s drying juices glazing its large girth just as the statue version of Warlun had been slicked in a protective outer shell. She couldn’t stand this cruel temptation any longer. Dizziness washed through her at the decadence of the three of them standing naked in a pool examining cocks. She swooned, her body swaying against Rafe’s. “Please, now. I’m ready, so ready.” Warlun backed them toward the waterfall. The sparkling liquid poured over Rafe’s bronze skin, soaking his long hair and causing the ribbon to come loose. The water slicked Katja’s long tresses away from her face. “Come.” Warlun took each of their hands and drew them to a rocky ledge at the right side of the falls. The water splashed around their hips as they waded toward the protrusion. Katja knew just what Warlun intended. She turned and hoisted herself up on the flat surface. Her full breasts jiggled with her movements as rainbows misted around her. The rushing stream tumbled behind her and puddled around her buttocks before spilling over the edge into the pool. As Rafe moved closer to her, his gaze fastened on her bosom in a way that made the mounds feel heavy and full. He filled his palms with their soft weight, lifting them in his hands until the nipples became sharp spears against his palms. “You are my love, my whole world.” He lowered one hand to

nudge her thighs apart. With the movement, her labia spread, and she experienced the most sensual mixture of cool water and the heat of the sun upon her sex. Warlun also remained in the pool, but he positioned himself so that he stood to her right near one knee. His large hand skimmed up her leg with a firm and practiced touch that caused her to let out a cat’s growl. “Rafe also wished that your pleasure would always come first. You are a lucky woman,” Warlun said. His fingers slid along the crease where her leg joined her hip. His warm caress traveled toward her center and found the thatch of dark curls crowning her womanhood. When Warlun located her clitoris and circled it with a butterfly stroke, she moaned. Out of the corner of her fluttering eyes, she saw Rafe crouch between her legs. He caressed the tops of her thighs, then moved his palms down and around until they were positioned behind her knees. Gently, he slid her forward until her mons perched on the low cliff’s edge. “Enjoy, Katja. Just enjoy.” Warlun explored her breasts, his wet mouth searing one nipple while his hand tweaked and pinched the other. Molten lava rushed through her system, and yet her temperature had only begun to rise. “I need you now, Kat, all of you,” Rafe moaned, and he bent down and covered her sex with his mouth. She cried out, throwing her head back and slapping her hands on the wet surface behind her. Her body jerked, and Warlun slipped an arm behind her, supporting her across her back. Unable to resist, she hooked her legs over Rafe’s shoulders and threaded her fingers in his damp hair. She held him to her as he laved and licked and sucked her quim. Theos, to have him devour her pussy was like a dream finally coming true! She thought of her masturbation fantasy earlier in the night, but Katja knew this moment to be the starkest, most blissful reality of her life. “Let go, Katja,” Warlun murmured, blazing a trail of kisses from

her breasts to her neck. “Just let go. We’re here to please you, to love and adore you. Your fulfillment comes first. Always first.” She shivered as his soft lips and wet tongue explored her neck and moved up to her jaw. He continued to support her with one arm, but his free hand wavered between kneading her aching breasts and sliding down her abdomen to join Rafe’s tongue to wreak havoc on her clitoris. Her body took over, bucking against Rafe’s face, devouring Warlun’s mouth as he suddenly captured her lips in a devastating kiss. She dueled with Warlun’s tongue while Rafe’s tongue did the same with her pearl. Then Rafe slowly slid a trio of fingers inside her, and she let out a strangled moan of ecstasy. The bombardment of sensations, of her body being seen to by two handsome rogues—it was enough to drive her to utter madness. But instead, she welcomed the coming peak. Sensing her rise to fulfillment, Rafe increased the pressure of his tongue, fucking her faster and deeper with his fingers. She felt the vibration of his groan against her crux. Warlun was attuned to her, too. He swiped his tongue deep into her mouth while his fingers pinched and rolled one areola between his fingers. The combination of stimulation by both men became more than she could bear, wet tongues, long fingers, hungry mouths, all just for her gratification. Poised, teetering on maddening euphoria, Katja tore her mouth from Warlun’s and stared blindly at the pristine sky. Her breath caught, the fragrant air trapped inside her lungs. She could hear the rush of the waterfall—or was that the torrent of her blood in her veins? The embers sparked hotter, first a vague flicker deep within her loins, then an onslaught of pleasure so hot, so intense, she could do naught but let out a long scream of ecstasy. Her inner walls convulsed, clamping around Rafe’s fingers. One last lick upon her clitoris, one final voracious claiming of her breast, and her climax couldn’t be stopped. The explosion rocked her body, branding her as Rafe’s, further sealing her commitment to their new life as man,

wife, and a male partner to share their future bed. *** Rafe’s heart knocked against his ribs at the stunning picture she made in the aftermath of her pleasure. Lying there wet and spent beside the waterfall, crumpled in abandon upon the platform, her generous bosom rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath—God help him, he yearned to bury his shaft in that glistening pussy and slake his lust even without the fulfillment of his second wish! He lifted one of her long legs and listened to her siren’s moans of reigniting pleasure as he massaged the lax muscles and silky flesh. Rafe licked his lips to indulge in the zesty traces of her cream still smeared upon his face. He planted fluttery kisses along her inner calf, and something protective and hopeful welled up inside him at the thought of what had just occurred. At what was about to occur. He raked his gaze from her toes, up the fine curve of her calves and thighs to her swollen quim. Ah, such sweet bounty she had been the day he’d captured her father’s ship and taken the spitfire captive. He’d grown to love her, and she him. She was the most valuable treasure he’d ever happened upon. Rafe frowned. Until the demons had started to haunt him again. Demons that had threatened his marriage to Katja and left Rafe in utter despair. And yet he loved her. He gently pulled her to a sitting position and gathered her in his arms. She sighed, nuzzling her nose in the crook of his neck. “Rafe,” she whispered. “Oh, Rafe.” “I know, love.” He combed his fingers through her damp tresses and pressed his hips up against the underwater ledge so he could wedge himself between her legs. “I know.” He wanted nothing more than her happiness and fulfillment in every aspect of their life together, most especially in their bedroom. Still, the need for a man’s touch had burned within him like an inferno, even while he’d been tortured by the conflicting desire also to keep his wife in his bed.

Hell and damnation, he hadn’t known how to separate the two parts of himself! He needed the firm stroke of a man’s large hands and the feel of a hard body against his own, just as he required water and food to live. By the same token, he also craved his wife’s tender touch. It felt as if his body had been split right down the middle, with one half having been neglected for years. He’d been faithful to Katja since first spying her on her father’s ship deck, yet he knew he couldn’t go on this way any longer. Just pondering it had caused him to inadvertently shut her out, to brood and to crawl within himself. He’d feared he might lose her if he laid open his heart to her, and yet to carry on as they had in the last weeks and months would surely yield the same disastrous result. But nay, he could not—would not—give up his beloved Katja. So he’d searched for some way to be himself while also keeping his stunning wife in his bed. Out of desperation, he’d tossed a coin in the renowned fountain and pled with the statue to help Katja accept his secret side, and most of all to continue to love him. He’d made a depraved wish to watch her being pleasured by another man and then to make love together with that very man and Katja. Rafe had prayed for Katja to embrace the man he truly was deep inside. Now the wish was coming true. Was it not? He eased her supple body away and studied her voluptuous curves and her gorgeous face framed by deep burnished brown locks. When her eyelids fluttered open, he felt that familiar twist in his heart at the shocking green of her large eyes edged by spiky black lashes. “Agapo, agapo,” she cried, tears wetting her cheeks as she reached up and framed his face with her small hands. “I love you so much. I want you to have your fantasy. I long to live it with you!” He adored the way she slipped into her native Greek tongue, her accented voice so warm and honeyed it could render a man smitten for life. But her words were so potent, they had the power alone to make his sac tighten up and his staff twitch in anticipation.

That staff would be getting a rich reward very soon. Her risqué little confession couldn’t have made Rafe any happier or his cock more enflamed. Not only was she prepared to indulge him in his needs, but she’d already confessed to fantasizing about that very scenario. What a lucky man he was! Why hadn’t he discussed this with her long ago? He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. Well, they were here now. Because of that secret side of him that rode Rafe like the devil, they’d weathered a storm in their marriage. He knew she’d sensed the tempest within him to a degree, though she’d been oblivious to the true winds that stirred it. But they finally seemed to be coming out intact on the other side of the cloud. Emotion welled up inside him, making his throat constrict. He drew her into his arms and held her firmly against his chest. The essence of her womanhood entwined with her perfume, filling his lungs, intoxicating him. “I love you, too, darling, more than you will ever know. I’m so sorry to have caused you distress. But I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” If she enjoyed this encounter with Warlun, maybe she would allow him to invite another man into their bed in the future. This would be a pivotal experiment in their marriage, and while it excited Rafe, it also made his gut twist painfully with apprehension. As if he sensed Rafe’s deepening worry, Warlun moved up behind him. Warlun skimmed his hands around Rafe’s waist and settled his cock in the crevice of Rafe’s buttocks. Warlun’s sinewy, muscled body blanketed his backside, and shivers of delight shimmered down Rafe’s spine when Warlun began kissing, nipping, and suckling at his nape. “It’s your time,” Warlun whispered in Rafe’s ear. “Shower her with attention, bring her more sexual pleasure. But at the same time, indulge in your fantasy. Feel the hard with the soft, the power of masculinity merging with the delicateness of femininity.” Warlun’s raspy suggestion was accompanied by a grinding of

his cock against Rafe’s rectum. His hole tightened reflexively, and hot need tugged deep in his groin. Hungry also for his woman, Rafe leaned forward and closed his mouth over one of Katja’s nipples. It beaded tighter, like a smooth pebble grazing his tongue. A feral moan escaped her throat. She clamped her knees against his hips, planted her hands on the wet ledge behind her, and threw her head back in reawakened bliss. The urge to get closer to her mons while experiencing the firmness of a man behind him was maddening. Delicious. Rafe sighed. There could be no higher elation, no deeper fulfillment for him than that contradictory luxury. Nay, there was nothing like being able to pander to both sides of himself at once. To feel the softness of woman and the hardness of man all at the same time. For the first time in his life, he felt whole. Rafe pushed between her thighs and forced her legs farther apart. Her wet sex-lips spread, revealing the petals of her clitoris and the tight little opening of her vagina. He needed to get inside her, just like he needed to ride the sea, to pummel and raid, to conquer and possess. With a growl, he jerked her body closer so that her pussy was poised just over the edge of the rocky ledge a mere finger’s space from the velvety tip of his phallus. Rafe gripped his cock at the exact moment Warlun reached around to do the same. It seemed he had read Rafe’s mind, his hand sliding low to massage Rafe’s balls, high to stroke the length of his shaft. Rafe finally let go, allowing Warlun to take total control of his sex. Warlun wedged his own rod tighter between Rafe’s ass cheeks, barely skimming his hole, making Rafe’s belly quiver and heat lick at his rectum and loins. Simultaneously, Warlun circled his thumb around the crown of Rafe’s plump head, holding and palming the weight of Rafe’s hard cock in his hand. The strong, practiced male touch had Rafe clenching his jaw. His nostrils flared, and again he picked up the scent of Katja’s creamy arousal mixed with that of clean male sweat. A quickening stirred in his groin and made his sac draw up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her pelvis tilting toward

him. He caught the sheen of auburn highlights in the triangle of dark curls at the top of her cleft, and his mouth watered with the urge to taste her. “Take me. Please, take me now,” she pleaded. Rafe leaned forward, drawing her closer, burying his face in the hollow of her smooth neck. Her thick hair smelled like roses, and her skin still held traces of Warlun’s manly scent. So fucking delicious. The valley between her ample breasts was slick with the mist of the waterfall. Rafe skimmed his hands up her frail arms, across her shoulders, and tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull. “Ah, I’ll take you to heaven and back, my love, just for granting me what I’ve wanted for so very long.” When Warlun closed his fist around Rafe’s cock and circled the head along Katja’s heated pussy, the words she had been about to utter died in her throat on a gasp. Her jeweled eyes fluttered closed, and Rafe knew firsthand the ecstasy she felt, for he experienced it himself. With his manhood being stroked and guided into her damp folds, his wife’s lush body so near to his, and Warlun’s cock grating over his anus, Rafe knew a moment of sheer lust. “That’s it,” Warlun rasped in his ear, tunneling Rafe’s sword into her tight, hot sheath. When Rafe’s length was halfway inside her, Warlun violently pushed his hips against Rafe’s ass, forcing Rafe inside her slickness all the way to the hilt. “First, get inside her pussy. Then I will—” Rafe howled. A soft breeze blew in, stirring their hair, wafting up the essence of her womanly arousal and of manly perspiration. With his cock poised between Rafe’s ass cheeks, Warlun clutched Rafe’s hips and led him in a deliberate push and pull, in and out of Katja’s warm, wet channel. She writhed, her hips doing a gypsy’s dance, her smooth skin beaded with mist. Sunshine sifted through the palm fronds overhead, scattering glitters of light across her flesh and over the curves of her bouncing breasts. Rafe yanked her closer so that he could feel the tips of her areo-

las scraping his chest and dragging over his own hardened nipples. His mouth opened upon the sweet skin of her shoulder, tasting his way up her slim, silky neck, along her delicate jaw, to her cheek salted by her earlier tears. His mouth hungered for hers. When he finally sealed his lips over her parted mouth, his tongue instantly tangled with hers, and Warlun initiated the move Rafe had been waiting for. Warlun splashed his cock and Rafe’s anus with water, readying Rafe, rubbing the head of his dick over Rafe’s damp asshole. Coiled fire snaked through Rafe’s rectum and shot into his groin. His cock spasmed inside Katja’s pussy, immediately drawing a groan from her. She tilted her hips closer, fucking him harder, faster. Her tender, heated tissues gloved him, slowly, sensually bringing him higher with her wanton dance. His tongue dueled with Katja’s then traced her sweet lips. When Warlun slid in that first inch, Rafe’s sphincter constricted, instinctively barring the invader. Rafe’s body knew how to accept a man’s shaft, how to relax and open up for the pleasure. Nay, his body could never forget such wicked delights of the flesh. It didn’t take long for the flames of passion to return when he relaxed and his inner gland became stimulated. Water splashed around their joined bodies, temporarily cooling the fires. But there was no way to quench the inferno that blazed through Rafe’s blood as Warlun pushed ever deeper. Rafe gathered Katja closer so that her breasts pressed hard into his chest and his cock sunk to the hilt with each thrust. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear, caught on a wave of affection. For a wife to agree to this fantasy fulfillment was a gift a man could never forget. “Nay, thank you,” she replied on a gasp of pleasure when Warlun encircled them both in his arms and leaned over Rafe’s shoulder. “’Tis my fantasy, too.” Over Rafe’s shoulder, Warlun took Katja’s mouth with a fever. She hooked her arms around both necks, her legs around both hips, and moaned into the kiss. Warlun pushed deeper still into Rafe’s

ass as he kissed Katja. It made her pussy tighten about Rafe’s cock, and creamy heat seeped around his shaft. To fill and be filled, to smell her arousal and feel Warlun’s cock deep inside him, it was enough to push him right to the edge. He felt as if going to the fountain had been a bit like walking the plank. He’d teetered on the edge of hope and excitement, sure that if the wish didn’t come true, he would just have to hurtle himself into the depths of the shark-infested ocean below him. But now, here, the plank was more like a safe pathway to his happiness and the mending of his marriage. He was lucky to have a wife as understanding and eager as Katja. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled her sweet essence. He felt the contrast of her soft skin against his chest and the hardness of Warlun at his backside. Rafe kissed her flesh, tasting her sweetness, savoring the warmth of the sun. Warlun’s strong arms encircled him as Warlun continued to kiss Katja over Rafe’s shoulder while slowly, gently fucking Rafe in the ass. Dappled sunlight cast flickering shadows upon their wet flesh and sparkles upon the waterfall. The water rushed and tumbled around them, just like the blood in Rafe’s veins. Warlun slid in, out, just as Rafe did within his wife. Rafe could feel the climax rising, at first a vague tingle deep in his rectum, then a building heat in his balls, like the lava in a volcano ready to erupt at any second. Katja moaned and clamped around him, stroking him, moving faster, harder. Warlun picked up the tempo, pulling out, pushing back in, stimulating that sensitive spot inside Rafe. Breaking free of Warlun’s kiss, Katja cried out her release first. Her inner walls spasmed with her climax, the scent of her woman’s cream growing stronger as she spilled more of her liquid heat onto Rafe’s cock. Warlun dug his fingers into Rafe’s hips, and Rafe finally let himself fly. A vortex of ecstasy ripped through him, dizzying him with its powerful clutches. His seed shot out to fill Katja’s canal at the same moment Warlun’s hot jism shot off inside Rafe’s ass. The orgasm went on and on, making his hidden muscles tighten reflex-

ively around Warlun’s cock. Katja thrashed and writhed upon his rock-hard rod, riding and screaming and clutching frantically at both men. “Rafe, Rafe!” She held his face in her soft little hands, raining kisses over his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw. He clamped his eyes shut, fought to catch his breath, and hitched in a lungful of air when Warlun slowly withdrew from him. Rafe gathered Katja close and remained inside her. They seemed to tumble backward, and first Rafe felt the cool water splash him, but then it quickly changed to the breezy skim of the sheet. Their eyes popped open at the same moment. “What? Theos, was that a dream?” Katja gasped, her gaze darting around the moonlit space of their suite. She lay beneath Rafe, her long legs spread, her naked body luscious beneath his. Warlun was nowhere to be seen. “Nay.” Rafe brushed his lips across hers. “It was a dream come true.”

Fires Within: Epilogue Katja sat next to Rafe at the fountain with Warlun’s stone figure and the tinkling waters behind them. The docks were just up the shore where Rafe’s ships at anchor bobbed in the bay. She knew his crew readied the vessels for the next journey, but this time, Katja would be joining Rafe. Excitement coursed through her blood. Their sex life had never been better. But it was missing one thing. Another man. Together, they had just tossed a coin into the pool and wished for a handsome man, one willing to share their bed. “Do you suppose he is out there somewhere, Rafe?” Her hungry gaze scanned the choppy horizon, eager for their voyage to get underway so they could begin the search. He tenderly kneaded her neck and shoulders. “If Warlun has anything to do with it, aye.” A movement caught her eye to the left. A tall, lean man sauntered up to the fountain just around the opposite side. He wore dark trousers tucked into leather riding boots, a brown vest over a white shirt that stretched across wide, finely muscled arms and shoulders. His jaw was square and dusted with a day’s growth of dark brown whiskers. His wide mouth compressed in a thoughtful expression as he stepped up to the low wall and stared up at Warlun. “Rafe, look,” she whispered sharply, elbowing him. Rafe had been staring the other direction, and at her urgent tone, he whipped his head around. “Ah, you mean the man with the fair, long hair, nicely fit body, and interesting fullness in his britches?” Katja licked her lips, imagining what that particular “fullness” might look like once released from the snug garment. Entering her husband. Entering her pussy. What it might taste like as she and Rafe devoured it together with their mouths. “Aye, that one.” After a brief moment of silence, Rafe said, “Well, I’m not going to sit here and watch him get away from us. Are you coming with

me, wife?” He started to rise. She clamped her hand on his knee, never taking her eyes off the man. “Wait. It looks as if he’s making a wish!” Rafe sat back, and as one, they watched the strapping man’s mouth move as if he spoke to Warlun. He drew a silver coin out of the pocket of his vest, held it up, and flipped it into the air. It tumbled end over end, finally plopping into the water. He stood there for a long moment looking intently at Warlun. Then, as if he felt foolish, he shook his head, reached down and snatched up a knapsack, and strode up the walk. “He’s coming our way.” “I see that,” Rafe replied, his brow arching, his voice laced with lust. “Do you suppose…?” Rafe didn’t reply. The man strolled toward them, his fair head downcast, his shoulders slumped, as if he had just cast out his very last rope of hope. On instinct, Katja rose. Rafe followed, setting his hand possessively upon her shoulder. They stood there together, both openly perusing the man from head, to boots, to the thickness outlined within his pants. He finally lifted his chin and stopped dead in his tracks. He shifted his stare to Warlun, then back to Rafe and Katja. Katja looked up at the sculpture, and she could swear she saw Warlun wink at her. “Bloody hell,” the man cursed in surprise, his voice deep and accented, his gaze devouring both Katja and Rafe. “By the gods, that sure was quick.” The End

About the author: Roxana Blaze spins her erotic romance tales from her cabin in the woods of northern Wisconsin, USA. She lives with her hero husband, teenage son, and twins who are currently off to college. Though she has a background in the medical field as a registered nurse, her true passion has always been in literature, reading, and writing. Being a split personality, she’s also penned stories under the pseudonym Titania Ladley. Please visit her websites at RoxanaBlaze.com and TitaniaLadley.com for more information.

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