―Sorry,‖ she yelped, and pulled her hands away as if burned. Involuntarily, she stepped backward.
The spear clattered to the ground and warm, big hands clasped her arms, drawing her back close again. His erection butted against her belly and he pulled her in for a kiss. Entranced, she melted against him.
1A hot, firm mouth closed over hers, parting her lips with the force of his kiss. His tongue slicked into her mouth, hot and hard, and she was devoured by the intense kiss, her pussy flaring to life when he began to slowly, thoroughly stroke the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Her nipples hardened against his chest and her hands stole around his back, touching skin that was bare and hot to the touch.
It startled her out of his embrace. She pulled away again. ―Oh…wait. Are you real?‖
―I should be asking the same of you, little beauty,‖ he said in a gruff voice with a thick accent she didn‘t recognize.
―You can talk?‖
―I am speaking, am I not?‖
―I mean, you can speak English? How is that possible?‖
―Your language seems to be a skill I have acquired,‖ he acknowledged with a sly little grin. ―Do you not approve?‖
She was getting flustered. His voice was delicious – deep and masculine. It felt like sunlight rippling over her skin. ―Any other skills I should know about?‖
―Of course. I can do a great many things,‖ he said in that husky voice.
Chloe blushed. ―But…how is it…why…‖ She lifted her hands from his chest and sighed. ―Why is it you‘re a statue? What happened to you? Am I imagining all this?‖
―Not your imagination. I‘ve been cursed by a witch,‖ he said in a casual voice, the unscarred side of his mouth tugging up in a smile. ―My turn to ask questions.‖
―Okay,‖ she said, breathless at his nearness.
―How did you call me?‖
1Crimson flushed on Chloe‘s cheeks. ―I think it‘s because…I touched you.‖
―Do you always touch marble statues, little beauty?‖
―Well, no.‖
He grinned as if he could guess what was going through her mind. ―And do you always wander
about half clothed?‖
She glanced down at her modest sweater and her floaty pink skirt. It left her legs bare but was surely not that immodest. The vee of her neckline barely showed a hint of cleavage. She blinked at him, and then pointed out, ―This is coming from a man wearing no clothes?‖
―Do you have a toga for me, then? A tunic?‖
She shook her head, and turned away. ―I‘m sure we can find something around here for you to wear.‖
He muttered a curse in Latin behind her.
She turned, puzzled, then gasped when she saw him. He spread his fingers, staring down at them as they began to pale, turning into the cool white of marble once more. A pained look crossed his face and his expression hardened.
Her fingers reached out to touch him, skimmed along his warm arm. ―Don‘t go.‖
At her touch, the color returned to his body and his expression relaxed. He reached for her hand, grasping it in his own, blue eyes devouring her. ―Your touch.‖
―My touch?‖
―It keeps the curse away.‖ He linked his fingers with hers. ―Keep touching me, please.‖
1Chloe bit her lip, then nodded, squeezing his hand. ―All right.‖ She looked around the room, and then tugged him forward. ―But first you need something to wear.‖
He ended up wearing the cloth covering as a makeshift toga. She‘d tried to disentangle her hand to let him dress, but he‘d insisted otherwise, and she‘d simply averted her eyes instead.
He‘d laughed at her modesty. ―You were not so shy last night.‖
―I hit my head last night,‖ she said primly. ―I thought you were my imagination.‖
―Your dreams are quite pleasant, then,‖ he said in a husky voice, and leaned in to kiss her.
She knew she should draw away, but she couldn‘t. Instead, she let his lips graze her own,
enjoying the brief contact. He smelled spicy and masculine, and she was enjoying his presence far more than she should have.
―What is this place?‖ he asked her when he was clothed. His gaze skimmed the room, frowning at the unfamiliarity of the surroundings. ―The light is coming from somewhere. What day is it?‖
―It‘s night, not day,‖ she said. ―The light is coming from lamps overhead, set into the ceiling.
We‘re in an art gallery.‖
He grunted, and she wasn‘t sure if he understood what it was.
―What‘s your name?‖ she asked softly. ―Do you remember that?‖
He turned to her, tugging her hand and pulling her so close to him that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. ―I am Titus Antonius, little beauty, and I remember everything.‖
―I‘m Chloe,‖ she said softly, not pulling away. ―Tell me your story.‖
―I‘ll tell you my story, fair Chloe,‖ he said, and leaned in to kiss her mouth softly again. ―But you must tell me yours.‖
2―Deal.‖
****
Titus Antonius – or Titus, as he‘d suggested she call him – had been a soldier in Octavian‘s forces. His family was a poor relation of the powerful Antonius family, and he‘d made his living as a foot soldier, and then a centurion. When Mark Antony and Cleopatra had declared war on Octavian, Titus had been in the army that had sacked Egypt.
―My orders were to destroy a temple of Isis,‖ he said, then gave Chloe a roguish grin. ―The priestesses had other ideas.‖
―They cursed you?‖ she asked.
―I assume so,‖ he said. ―As soon as I crossed the threshold, I became as I am now – marble. Time passes differently there. I am aware of my surroundings but cannot decipher them. I hear conversations, but cannot understand them. I exist in time and yet outside of it. You are the first to free me from that prison.‖ His eyes were full of a mixture of gratitude and desire.
Two thousand years trapped in a statue apparently made a man extremely turned on.
She blushed at the thought of her touch being the one to free him. ―Is there a way to break the curse?‖
He shrugged, his gaze moving over her as if he would devour her. ―My people believe a curse is written on a tablet and the tablet hidden away from all eyes. If you find the tablet, you can destroy it and the curse.‖ He leaned forward and played with a lock of her long, dark blonde hair where it moved just over one of her breasts.
2A tablet? She sat forward eagerly. ―Where were these tablets usually hidden? Maybe we can find it?‖
―Usually they were tossed into a well or buried,‖ he said, and pulled her into his lap.
Tossed into a well two thousand years ago? Buried? ―How are we supposed to find it if it‘s buried or at the bottom of a well?‖
―That is the idea,‖ he said with a chuckle, and then bared her shoulder, nibbling on the flesh there.
―A curse tablet is not intended to be found.‖
Maybe she could find it for him, Chloe thought. Perhaps someone had dug it up by now. Hell, it was probably somewhere in Egypt, locked away in a museum, and they were in Chicago. ―But what about—―
―Shhh,‖ he told her, his hand stroking down her back. ―Though I am not familiar with this place, little beauty, I do know that a great deal of time has passed. If the tablet holding my curse has not been found by now, it will never be found.‖ He brushed his lips against the hollow of her neck. ―And right now I would rather spend my time touching you.‖
Even though she knew she should pull away, Chloe melted into his touch, her hand reaching up to touch the soft, black curls of his hair. He was so beautiful and warm and alive.
The stubble of his jaw rasped against the sensitive skin of her shoulder, and he kissed the pale flesh there. ―You are not speaking, fair Chloe of this strange place.‖
She was having a hard time thinking with his mouth on her skin, her hips on his lap. She could feel the hot, impossibly large cock through her flimsy skirts, and it made her pussy pulse with need.
―Not…speaking?‖ she said, her words a breathless gasp.
2Warm hands slid over her breasts from behind, and as his mouth nibbled and sucked at her throat, his fingers plucked at and played with her nipples through the sweater. Heat pulsed through her body.
―Tell me your story, fair Chloe,‖ he whispered against her neck. ―I have told you mine.‖
Oh, right. Her story. It was hard to think when his fingers were circling her sensitive nipples, hard and aching under the sweater. His tongue lapped at her collarbone, the sensation tickling and pleasant.
They sat on a bench in the back of the storage room, Chloe in Titus‘s lap as he touched and caressed her. And she told him her story, though it wasn‘t easy. That she‘d been married at eighteen to her high school sweetheart, and how he‘d shipped out to war six months later, and how she‘d found herself a widow by the age of twenty.
She told him that she‘d planned her life as a military wife of a man she now barely remembered, and when he‘d died, not only had it left her adrift and alone, but she‘d had to relearn who she was. How she had wallowed in depression and sadness, and when that had faded, to intense loneliness. She‘d eventually picked herself up and gone back to school to learn a career and carve an identity for herself.
―This is my first job…since John,‖ she said, her words breathless.
―You are a strong woman,‖ he said, sliding a hand under her sweater. ―And I am glad you are all mine.‖
She was glad for that too. She would always love John, but he was a part of her life that was fading into a mere memory, and she wanted to live again. In Titus‘s arms, she felt alive. This was what it meant to be alive, in a bizarre way. Loving and touching a man cursed to be a statue. She smiled at the thought.
2His hips surged against her with a groan, his hot hands trying to find a way under her bra. She reached forward and popped the clasp between her breasts, and his hands were there, cupping bare skin and massaging. Her head tilted back and she gave an utter sigh of delight. ―God, that feels good.‖
―Your clothes are strange,‖ he said in a low, husky voice, then pinched her nipples between his fingers, eliciting a gasp of delight from her. Her back arched, her hands moving to twine in his hair.
―Take them off. I want to feel your body against my skin.‖
Chloe slid out of his embrace, suddenly wanting that as much as he did.
His hands reached for her body, moving over her legs, reminding her that they must continue to touch if he was to remain real. Bending over, she deliberately gave a slight wiggle of her ass as she undid the straps of her sandals.
He groaned and his hands moved to her ass, cupping the flesh there. She‘d worn a thong in the hopes that her dream hadn‘t been one, and was glad of it now – his hands felt amazing.
Chloe straightened and kicked her sandals away, then shimmied out of the skirt, leaving the silky pink fabric around his arms. He quickly shook it free, his hands moving to her legs and stroking over them, over and over again. ―You have a beautiful body, fair Chloe,‖ he murmured, his gaze fascinated by the scrap of her panties. Growing brave – and utterly wet – at his rapt attention, she pulled the pale sweater over her head and shrugged off her bra. Then, she grasped her thong by the ribbon-like sides and sensuously slid them down her legs until she was standing naked before him, his fingertips brushing her hips.
Now they were both completely nude, her skin pink against his Mediterranean bronze.
His eyes were hot with need and he tugged at her hips, pulling her forward until she stood
between his legs. Still he tugged, and she slid one knee onto the bench and then the other, straddling him.
2Her pussy clenched with need, and she knew without touching herself that she was slick and wet, aching for him.
He leaned forward and pulled her against him, until she was straddling his hips and his cock was sliding back and forth between the slick lips of her pussy, grazing her clit. She whimpered with need and clutched at his hair, pulling him in for a hard kiss, her tongue stroking into his mouth, as if she could tell him what she wanted without words.
He seemed to understand – or maybe he wanted the same thing – because he pulled her up and
adjusted his long, hard length until the head was poised at her entrance, stretching her.
His dark eyes met her gaze and he waited. She kissed him again and flexed her hips until she slid down a few inches, taking him into her body. He was hot and almost too large inside her tight passage, and her whimpers of pleasure turned into a hiss. He was big and thick and she‘d been without a man for so long, that even her wet heat, slick and slippery with desire, was a tight fit.
Titus continued to kiss her collarbone and breasts, his hips squeezing her own as she rocked down on his cock slowly, feeding the massive length into her body. She felt full – almost too full – with his cock, but the mouth that teased her nipples was lovely, and the body beneath hers was warm and hard and she loved touching it. He wasn‘t rushing her, either – he let her take the lead, letting her run her hands over his skin and remain motionless in his lap, impaled on his length, waiting for her body to adjust. A few minutes later, he captured her mouth on a hot, hungry kiss, his teeth tugging at her lower lip.
That did wicked things to her insides and she gave her hips an involuntary flex. Pleasure shot through her body, and the fullness of his cock inside her was no longer frightening, but amazingly intense. She began to rock her hips, over and over, slow motions at first, then faster when the need began to spiral through her body hard. His hands gripped her hips against him, guiding her up and down on his thick length, helping her rock atop him. Faster and faster they moved, until her breath was coming out in 2sharp pants, and he growled low in his throat with each thrust of his cock back into her body. Their skin slapped, the sound echoing in the room with their soft panting breathing.
He moved against her, and she moved against him, locked in a spiral of pleasure that seemed endless, moving faster and faster against each other until Chloe‘s world existed solely around Titus‘s touch, his hands on her ass, his chest brushing against her nipples each time she bore down on him, the thick cock she rode that pierced her anew with every thrust.