Phaze Publishing
The corridors were lit by electric lights, powered by the two large generators outside 24/7, but those lights hadn't been extended into the burial chamber yet. That chore had been left for the morning.
Anna hesitated in the doorway to the chamber, wiping her sweating palms on the knit. Could she do this? Could she watch Amun die again, just to satisfy her curiosity?
"It's not curiosity. I have to know."
Anna switched on the flashlight and padded inside. The bed dominated the room, more so than it had in the dreams...or maybe that was her mind playing tricks on her. Placing one foot in front of the other in something of a daze, she made her way to it.
"Anna, no."
Her shuffling feet went still at the order, and her hand retreated a few inches. Anna stared at the bed, so close she could touch it without moving another step.
"No." His voice was closer, stirring the short wisps of hair that escaped her ponytail.
She closed her eyes at the press of his body to hers, swallowing down a moan. "I’m crazy." The dreams were bad enough; the phantom sounds and scents in her waking moments were worse. Now she was feeling him in the present...awake. "Am I awake?" How could she be sure?
Amun's hand closed around her slightly-outstretched hand, drawing it back to her thigh. "Thankfully, yes," he replied simply.
"I don't understand," she admitted.
His lips pressed to the back of her neck, and he inhaled deeply, shuddering against her back. "I've waited so long to feel you in my arms...conscious..." His lips brushed up the line of her vertebrae. "Aware... Dreams of you are not enough."
"Why are you here?" It came out rasping, the verbal equivalent of the raw need eating at her.
In answer, he straightened, his face brushing up the side of her head, tugging lightly at her bound hair. His hand plucked at the waistline of her pants. At her moan of acceptance, it slid beneath then inside her panties.
The first touch of his fingers on her clit had her gasping for breath, tipping her head back onto his shoulder. The flashlight slipped from her boneless fingers, clattering to the floor then rolling.
"Are you going to send me away?" It was whispered against her ear, more than an invitation, less than a demand.
"Never." She'd always had a problem with refusing Amun, but this was even more pressing than usual. It was rare to see this side of the ancient prince. This was the side she'd never been able to resist.
His hand retreated, and he turned her toward him, capturing Anna's mouth in a searing kiss. Her hands flattened against the heated flesh of his chest, and she stroked downward, freed to be bold by the lack of Dea-ana's mind muddling her own.
Amun grasped her by the wrists, nestling her hands to her back, dragging her closer to his body. The kiss was fevered, drugging... She wanted him inside her.
His mouth parted from hers, and Amun took a step back, releasing her wrists. "Get these damned clothes off," he growled.
Anna opened her eyes, locking on the indistinct shadow that was Amun, her mouth going dry at the faint movements that were probably signs of him untying his shenti. The blood coursing in her ears, coupled with her pounding heart, drowned out all other sound.
"Anna," he grumbled.
She nodded. Though she was certain Amun could see no more of her than she could of him, Anna made a show of disrobing, peeling off each piece of clothing slowly, heated nearly to discomfort by the idea of him watching.
When she'd kicked away her panties, Anna took a step toward him. Amun met her halfway, his slightly-roughened hands exploring her, his mouth meshing with and parting from hers, again and again.
Anna couldn't have recounted how they made it to the floor. One moment, they were grasping at each other. The next, her head was pillowed on her pants, Amun's weight pressing her down into the smooth, sand-dusted stone.
The cum-wet crown of his cock brushed at her inner thigh, and she pressed up, seeking more. The first thrust wrenched a sob of delight from her. He'd been right; dreams were not enough.
Amun paused, a guttural sound escaping his lips. "So long," he breathed.
Anna nodded, her air processing too unsettled to make a verbal response.
"Say you're mine." It wasn't a demand.
"Yours... Always...just yours."
His thrusts came hard and fast, a palpable demonstration that it was so. Amun possessed her, body and soul, cementing the bonds already forged between them in the dreams.
He collected her hands from his back, one at a time, threading his fingers through hers, pinning her hands to the floor, driving into her.
A vague recollection of Amun doing the same to Dea-ana when he learned she was virginal flitted in her mind, and Anna shook it away, greedy for this experience as her own, untainted by the mind of the mummified servant that lay a scarce body-length from her own.
Entrenched firmly in her own mind, Anna's senses scattered; her body burned in the precursors of climax. Their sweat-soaked bodies moved together. Their breath mingled.
And then it crashed over her, sweet waves of bliss. Anna fisted her hands in his, little more than half-aware of Amun's climax, of his heat flooding her.
His weight settled over her more fully, his lips exploring her forehead. "I love you, Anna. I have loved you since the moment I first saw you."
Any answer she might have formulated was lost in a gasp of surprise.
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