“Do you think they used coconut oil?” she blurted.
“Look around you. I don’t think we invented sex, do you? They would have used anything they had. Now how about getting you out of those shorts?”
This time Kayla didn’t hesitate. But even her haste wasn’t enough for him, and her tummy muscles jumped under his unfamiliar touch when he slid the zipper down for her. Wordlessly she lifted her hips off the plastic chair as he tugged her shorts off.
“Relax,” he said, not knowing he asked the impossible. How would he react if she told him she’d been married for five years yet this was the first time a man had undressed her?
Kayla still had her boots on, and he didn’t bother to remove them, just worked her shorts past them. He looked at her tiny bikini thong with approval, his gray eyes darkening perceptibly.
“Lucky I had no idea you were wearing something like this while you were climbing up here,” he said huskily. “If I’d known you had this little scrap of pink floss slicing into your gorgeous butt, I think I’d have come in my jeans.”
Kayla blinked at him, barely able to breathe. “I thought I might swim while I waited for the boat to come back.”
“There are crocodiles in the river,” he said with a grin any croc would have envied. “You’re much safer with me.” So saying, he hooked her thong with his thumbs and slid his hands under her bottom, encouraging her to lift so he could remove the thong. Then he spread her legs, exposing a part of her anatomy that had never seen the sun before. Sitting there naked, Kayla felt excruciatingly self-conscious. And excruciatingly turned on.
Her partner murmured what sounded like a prayer of thanks, then slid his hands under her backside, easing her toward him before lowering his head to her belly and kissing her navel. Shivers of pure eroticism raced over her skin, and she squirmed.
She felt him smile against her belly, yet another new sensation. “If you like that, you’re going to love this,” he assured her.
Drawing her knees up and apart, he hooked them over his shoulders with a casual assurance that suggested he had done this before. Then he put his mouth to her clit. Kayla reacted as if he had lit a fuse inside her, wriggling and squirming in delight.
He rocked back and grinned. “I guess you do.”
“Please,” she said, then clamped her mouth shut, well aware that talking during sex could ruin a man’s mood quicker than anything. But her stomach fluttered in excitement when she saw the way he was looking at her wide-open pussy.
In five years of marriage, had Marc ever once looked at her so intimately? Kayla felt a rush of excitement at the guard’s rapt expression. Easing one hand out from under her bottom, he teased her entrance with his finger before sliding it into her pussy at the exact same moment his lips closed on her clit again.
She moaned, immediately biting her lip to cut the sound off.
She couldn’t have been quick enough because he lifted his head and grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Returning to his task, he pushed a second finger inside her, gently stretching, at the same time delicately working her clit with his lips and tongue.
Eyes closed, Kayla held herself perfectly still, completely focused on what he was doing and the wonderful new sensations. As the pleasure increased, her breathing quickened, coming in shallow gasps she struggled to control, terrified that too much unseemly enthusiasm might put him off.
No. That won’t happen. This isn’t Marc.
A whimper of pleasure escaped her lips, and oblivious to the chaos of her thoughts, her partner chuckled. His laughter vibrated deliciously against her clit. “Come for me, sweetheart. And then we’ll come together.”
If only
. Kayla wanted to take him at his word. She wanted it so badly, wanted to clamp her thighs around his neck and pull him even closer, to grind her pussy against his face and scream her need. In her head she did just that.
But only in her head. In reality she kept her mouth firmly shut even as she silently urged him on.
Yes, like that. Oh, God, just like that. Yes. There.
Nothing in her limited sexual experience had prepared Kayla for how she felt right now. But as a sharp, sweet pleasure began to swell inside her, gathering momentum, she felt a rush of delight and relief, knowing that nothing now could stop her orgasm. Nothing—
A heavy splash of water landed on her belly. Then another.
“What the…”
When Kayla looked up, the blue sky had been replaced by angry turbulent clouds.
Chapter Four
Swearing, the guard jumped to his feet, and Kayla could have howled in frustration.
“Sorry to break off, sweetheart, but I suspect we’ve got about two minutes to get under cover before the storm hits.”
It’s just a bit of rain
. But even as Kayla thought this, the wind picked up. A few raindrops landed on her sketch pad, and she snatched it up, clutching it to her. “Does this mean the boatman will come back for us?” she asked in dismay.
“Not a chance,” the guard said, looking around for his clothes. “Storms often blow up at this time of the year, and the river gets choppy for a while. He won’t come back till it’s safe. And he won’t come at all if I tell him not to.”
The wind was increasing by the second, the raindrops falling faster, huge, spattering drops darkening the sun-parched stone. Kayla placed her precious sketch pad into her bag, then frantically began to gather the rest of her things. “How exactly are you going to do that?”
“I’ll call him.”
Her clothes were blowing in the ever more violent wind, and all she managed to grab before they disappeared over the treetops were her shorts and her white cotton shirt. The gale tried to grab the shirt as she stuffed her arms into the sleeves, and she couldn’t get the shorts on over her boots. Giving up, she clutched the shirt around her and tucked her shorts under her arm, trying not to think about what she must look like, bare-ass naked apart from a billowing shirt and hiking boots. “You’ll call him? Just like that?”
“Satellite phone.” He had to yell above the sound of the wind. “The university doesn’t like to leave their archaeologists alone in the wilds without some means of communication.”
Kayla found her drawing materials and crammed them into her bag. “You’re an archaeologist?”
He grabbed his jeans and his boots, looking round wildly for anything else he could salvage. “My team got caught on the wrong side of the mudslide, just like your friends. Why? What did you think I was doing here?”
His fedora blew past her, rolling on the rim, and she stamped on it. “I thought you were some kind of caretaker or guard.”
“I’m a professor of archaeology, which, I have to say, sounds more impressive when I’m dressed.”
“Like Indiana Jones?” she shouted.
He took his hat from her, punched it back into shape, and jammed it on his head, though he had to hold it in place. “My students bought me this. I reckon it gives me an edge with the ladies.”
Kayla could have told him that the devil’s own smile and a ten-inch cock gave him all the edge he needed, but just then the sky darkened to night. She looked up in alarm as the first hailstones began to batter down. “Ow!”
“Quick!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the temple, detaching the rope that blocked the entrance. They barely made it inside before the hail started to come down in earnest.
Never in a million years would Kayla have believed the weather could change so swiftly or so dramatically. Glad to be out of it, she stood in the doorway, watching golf-ball-size hailstones bounce off the stone, thankful that they weren’t bouncing off her skin.
“Your chair has blown away,” she called over her shoulder. When he didn’t answer, she turned to see him feeling his way around the walls, his naked skin glowing in the dim light from the doorway.
He flipped a switch, and one by one, a string of lights blinked on.
The lights weren’t very powerful, but they showed Kayla a narrow, windowless room with a high, arched ceiling. The walls were covered in yet more paintings and carvings, a continuation of the mural outside. The main difference appeared to be that, while the paint on the outside was still impressive despite eight hundred years of exposure to the elements, the walls in here could have been painted yesterday.
She turned in a slow, shocked circle, till her attention was caught by a painting of a woman on her back, holding her legs apart to better accommodate the man on top of her. A second man waited in line while a third, also in line, was being sucked off by a fourth.
“These images are filthy,” she blurted.
“I know.” He came to stand beside her. “Takes some getting used to. You should try being in here with a dozen grad students and their hormones. Sometimes I think I’m going to have to hose them down with ice water.”
Kayla couldn’t stop staring even though everything she saw made her blush.
“When the site was first excavated twenty years ago, the murals in here were missed entirely. Look.” He pointed to a corner of the room where the art was obscured. “We have no idea why the room was plastered over, and we only discovered the murals beneath by accident. Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”
Impressive didn’t begin to describe it. The blues and reds and yellows were screamingly bright, the people in the carvings just a little larger than life, making the scene even more surreal.
Uncomfortable looking at the cavorting couples while her own body still screamed out for release, she turned away, but she was wasting her time as everywhere she looked she saw ever more explicit sex. Her gaze landed on a woman near the entrance, sprawled on a bed of jaguar skins so lifelike Kayla had to touch the wall to check they weren’t real. The woman lay in the center of a circle of men, who all appeared to be enthusiastically masturbating over her. The woman laughed exuberantly, and even in the poor light, Kayla could make out bright arcs of cum splashed onto her honey-colored skin.
“I thought the people outside were having an orgy.” She gulped, unable to tear her eyes away. “I don’t think there’s even a name for what’s going on in here.”
“I know what you mean. We’ve found some offerings to goddesses we haven’t been able to identify, so we’re assuming this is a religious ceremony. As far as we can tell, the Ma’ K’âaba temple is devoted to fertility.”
“I think I might want to join that religion.” Kayla reached out tentatively and touched a cock. “It’s so lifelike,” she said in awe.
The professor cleared his throat. “Know what else is lifelike?”
When she turned, he pointed to his cock with a “ta-da” gesture, making her laugh. “You still want to do it? With everyone watching?”
He pulled her close, and she put her hands up to his chest, enjoying the warm, taut strength of his muscles, so very different from the cold stone around her. His erection rose between them in a reminder that no matter how realistic the murals were, nothing could beat the real thing. Looping her arms around his neck, she stretched on tiptoe to seek his lips for a kiss, startled when she tasted herself on his rough beard. Tentatively she ran her tongue over his lips.
He laughed. “They were watching outside too. Would you rather do it out there in the hailstorm? Because I think this is the time to tell you I’m not into pain.”
Kayla wriggled against him, seeking his body heat but also still impossibly turned on. “If we do it in here, I’ll feel we’re being judged, given points for style.”
“Then we’ll have to put on a show.”
He kissed her, his mouth devouring and so very assured. There was nothing tentative about his touch, nothing she could relate to Marc’s kisses. In fact, kissing the professor was unlike anything she had ever known. She quickly warmed to the action, and with a growl of satisfaction, he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking hers, bold and sensuous. At the same time, he slipped his hand between her legs, and a sunburst of sensation weakened her knees as he instantly found her hot, wet center.
“Let’s make them jealous,” he murmured.
Kayla tensed, digging her fingers into his upper arms as he gently explored her pussy, spreading her moisture with his teasing fingers, reigniting the fire the storm hadn’t extinguished.
His touch felt so good; Kayla ground herself onto his hand, seeking the orgasm she had been denied. But he laughed, drawing away, very much in control.
Frustration made Kayla bold. For the first time in her life, she reached for a man’s cock, thrilled when his sharp intake of breath suggested she had turned the tables. His shaft felt like steel in her hand, pulsing with masculine power, thicker and harder than any cock she had ever touched before.
Okay, bigger than Marc’s—the only other cock she had ever touched.
She continued to explore, gliding her palm over the satiny tip, spreading the silky moisture she found there, gently cupping his heavy balls in her hand.
He caught her wrist. “Don’t,” he rasped. “I can’t come yet, not this fast, not in front of these guys. At least let me be inside you.”
Inside her. Kayla wanted that too, more than anything, and they spent a few frenzied moments searching for the condom, which he eventually shook out of the folds in his jeans. Breathlessly she watched him roll it on his cock, wondering how they were going to do this. The ground looked rough and uninviting, as did the two low, stone altars at either end of the room. Still, she was desperate enough that she would happily sacrifice a layer of skin off her butt just to feel some release.
Luckily he had a better idea, because he put his hands on her waist and lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.
They were going to do it standing up? Was that even possible? Apparently so, because the next moment she felt the tip of his cock nudging her entrance. Kayla only had a second to grab his shoulders for balance, and then he began to lower her down onto his erection.
She was wet and more than ready, but his cock was so very much bigger than she had previously encountered. Every delicious inch stretched her like she had never been stretched before. She closed her eyes, panting, biting back any protest that may have slowed him down. Because she didn’t want him to slow. Barely halfway in, though, he seemed to realize she was struggling to take him.