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Nehesy followed Imi’s retreating figure as she hiked up the hem of her dress and bolted across the courtyard. She ducked into a nearby entrance to the house and disappeared into the darkened hall.
Inside, he mounted the stairs to the second floor where the bedrooms were, and spied Imi with her hand on the handle of her bedroom door.
The sun’s first rays pierced the horizon, and a small measure of light filtered through a narrow window, illuminating the slim curves of Imi’s body in that nearly sheer dress of hers. It had been driving Nehesy mad all night long, the way the torchlight outlined her body, the dark honey of her skin a gorgeous contrast to the bright white dress. No wonder the other men had been circling her, too.
It had made him want to wrap her up in a blanket, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her away.
Instead, he’d had to remind himself he was supposed to be helping her find a husband. He was supposed to be a better friend than he had been in the past. So he’d forced himself to stay close enough in case she needed him, but distant enough to allow her to mingle freely.
It had been the worst sort of torment.
And then Ludim had attacked her. The anguish on Imi’s face when she’d fled had cut through Nehesy, and he wanted to bury her rat of a stepbrother under ten feet of desert sand for hurting her like that.
His body was still buzzing from it all, shaking with restraint.
“Imi. Wait,” he called.
She turned to him, tears shimmering in her eyes.
He strode forward, pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. She came without struggle, leaning into him, resting her head against his chest. He smoothed a hand over the back of her head. Her elaborate hairstyle had come loose during the fight with Ludim, and long, curling ribbons of hair floated down her back and shoulders to tickle his bare skin.
Imi’s shoulders quivered, and he held her tighter. “It’s alright,” he soothed, running his hands over her arms, down her back, and up again. He held her that way until she settled, drawing in shaky breaths, little puffs of air that skittered over him.
He willed his body and his mind to focus on something other than her curves pressed to him. The softness of her breasts, the way her head fit so neatly under his chin, or how his growing erection would nestle so perfectly against her belly.
Eventually, she pulled back, and he reluctantly released her. Her cheeks were dry, the tears unshed. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“What do you want, Nehesy?”
He cleared his throat. Because what he was actually thinking – or envisioning, really – he couldn’t say aloud. Not as a friend. “We should talk. About... things.” He couldn’t remember what, specifically, at the moment. For although he’d released her, her breasts still brushed his chest, her small, strong hands rested on his shoulders, and her intoxicating cinnamon and orange oil scent was wrapping itself around his senses, numbing his lust-filled brain.
“I don’t want to talk right now,” she said, her head tilting up to his.
And suddenly their mouths were crashing into one another. Not at all a sweet, gentle kiss, but a ferocious, desperate coming together that tasted of longing and a hint of anger and so much more. Her palms were moving over him, his hands on her hips, dragging her even closer, as if he could meld them together somehow.
She rose up on her toes and nearly knocked him backwards in her enthusiasm. He clasped her hands, bringing them around his neck even as they deepened the kiss, tongues stroking one another.
Her body arched up to him, but he lifted his head, looking down at her.
He murmured. “You’re so beautiful, Imi,” He dragged the backs of his knuckles over her jaw, down her neck, to let his fingers play over the edge of her dress.
She reached behind her, found the door handle, and the door swung open behind her.
“Come,” she whispered, stepping inside.
He followed.
Crossing the threshold was a bit like entering a dream. The room faced west, away from the sunrise, and they were plunged into near darkness. Imi’s white dress glowed like a beacon. Like the wood nymphe he’d first imagined her to be when he’d intercepted her on the dock.
With that thought, some semblance of sense pierced the lust-filled fog of his brain. There were reasons this was a bad idea.
“Imi, we should-,” He wasn’t sure what he was about to say, only that he felt some need to warn her.
“No,” she cut him off, “we shouldn’t.” She reached back to untie the knot that held up her dress. The fabric covering her top half fell away.
His eyes had adjusted to the shadows and there was, in fact, some light coming through the white linen curtains. Enough to see her small, lovely breasts with their dark tips jutting up. The sharp curve of a narrow waist. The gentle flare of slim hips.
There was no going back now.
The dress had caught on the belt tied about her waist, and her fingers fumbled through the wad of fabric. She was nervous.
He went to her, brushing her hands aside and lifting the linen away so that he could find her belt. Only to discover that his fingers shook, too. Because her breasts were right there, and she was fidgeting, shifting her weight from side to side and biting her bottom lip, and he wanted so badly to be inside her, lost in the luscious scent and feel of her.
“Easy,” he said, skimming his lips along her collarbone.
She hissed in air.
“Got it.” Thank the gods, he finally managed to untie the damned knot. The braided rope hit the floor with a soft thump, and the fabric fluttered after.
“Holy mother of Ra,” he whispered, awestruck. He’d thought the sheer dress had revealed most of her body’s secrets. But no. Seeing Imi fully naked before him in nothing but a gold and coral beaded collar and matching bracelets was more erotic than anything he’d ever dreamed up as a horny youth.
Her hair was a wild tangle, a few combs holding the bulk of it in place. He easily plucked them out and tossed them on a small bedside table. He turned back to her, wrapped an arm about her waist, and drew her closer. Her curls brushed his wrist.
Her hands were on his belt then, tugging at the knot. More successful this time, she had it undone before he could help her, and then he, too, was naked. She didn’t give him time to think. Her fingers were everywhere, running over his shoulders, his upper back, tugging his head down to kiss her, which he happily did.
He palmed her hips, reveling in the delicious slide of skin on skin and his cock nestled against her soft belly.
She tugged him toward the bed, and they fell on it together, with him catching himself so as not to crush her. She scrambled back and he followed, bracing himself over her.
“Imi,” he began, but she stopped his mouth with kisses. Her feet wrapped about his calves, locking him down with her strong, slim legs, and he was lost lost lost in her.
***
Of course it was a terrible idea to sleep with Nehesy. This, from a small, rational part of Imi’s brain. The much larger part of her that was hurt, mad, sad, and lonely wasn’t really listening.
Hence why she’d launched herself at him like a mad woman, and why she was holding him as tightly as her limbs would allow. It was wrong of her to do this when he’d expressed reluctance in the past, all parts of her knew this. He would probably regret it. She might, too. No doubt she’d hurt later when he left town. And yet if she stopped now, he’d want to talk, or tell her why this was a bad idea, and all she really wanted was to be held, to be kissed, to feel wanted.
Right now, the thick erection pressed against her thigh told her she was very much wanted. In one way, at least.
Selfish of her, yes. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
And so she slid her hand down, down his chest, over the ridged muscles, until she could grasp his erection. She squeezed.
He gasped, then groaned and dropped his head against her shoulder. “Holy gods, Imi. That’s... uh.” This as she moved her fist up and down a little over the thin skin of his shaft.
Triumph surged through her. She might not be experienced, but her ears worked well enough. Her friends had spoken often of trying to please their husbands in the early years of their marriages. She’d listened and imagined how things might go if she had a man in her bed and she wanted to take charge.
Of course, the subject of those imaginings was always Nehesy, and she’d envisioned this moment countless times.
She worked her hand up and down his shaft. His great large body shuddered. He put a staying hand over hers.
“Stop,” he said hoarsely. She squeezed again. He cursed. “I mean it, Imi.” He raised his head from the bed and his eyes bore into her. “If you don’t stop, I’ll spend myself.”
She hesitated. “But I thought men like this sort of thing.” His cock was impressively large. Rather frighteningly so, as her short fingers barely circled it all. And it was pulsing in her hand.
He gave a shaky laugh. “We do like it. A lot. But not this time. This time should be about you.” He pulled her hand away, then his warm mouth pressed to the side of her neck, and she stopped thinking altogether.
His lips were soft, so soft. And tickling. Tendrils of prickly fire raced along her skin. He kissed down over chest, where her breasts felt full and aching. His lips and tongue teased, licking and kissing around the undercurve, then along her sensitive side. She wiggled, trying to let him know that she wanted him to touch her nipples, which were hard and desperate.
He grinned wickedly, knowingly, then took the peak of her breast into the hot suck of his mouth. Sensation burst through her, and she bit down on a cry that became a whimper instead, her back bowing up to him.
Holy Hathor, Horus, and Hapi. She’d had no idea it could feel like this.
She was restless. So restless. Undulating beneath him, while he kept her hands locked at her sides and tormented her with soft and slow, then hard, sucks on both breasts. Her hips rose, seeking to soothe the growing need between her thighs.
Nehesy worked his way down over her belly. Imi shuddered as first he licked, then blew air over her. She dug her fingers into the short-cropped curls of his head. He shouldered his way between her thighs, lifting her feet to rest her heels on his back. Then he slid his strong hands about her hips. And so she was pinned to the bed, this time with his hands on her sides and his lips nuzzling the insides of her thighs.
“Uhhm,” was all Imi could vocalize. She was all nerves and sensations. Nehesy’s thick black hair between her fingers. His mouth on her skin. His shoulders and arms holding her trapped. His tongue now, on the swollen nub of her sex. She cried out wordlessly.
His tongue lapping, swirling, suckling. And then a finger pressing into her, where she was most needy. She cried out again, then threw her forearm across her mouth to smother the noise.
Her body was strung tighter than a harp string. She vibrated. Her legs twitched and shook. This need was painful, and she almost cried out for him to stop.
Another finger entered and curled and stretched and Imi bit down on her forearm because the world was swirling about her. Tide waters rose up, churning. Then, like the release of a dam, a raging river crashed over her, through her, all around, submerging her in blissful chaos. She closed her eyes and let it sweep her away.
Who knew how long had passed before Nehesy braced himself over her, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose. She was languid and could lay like this forever. But she wanted to be even closer to him, to have him move in her, to hold his body against hers. His erection was hard and insistent against her hip, and she instinctively wiggled to fit herself to it, even as he began to pull away.
“No!” she protested. “I will hate you forever if you stop now.”
Humour crinkled the skin around his eyes. His mouth turned up in a tight smile. “Can’t have that, can we?”
She wrapped her legs about his, running her ankles up to his buttocks, and pressing her heels into the indents there. She leveraged her hips up to push against his hardness.
He let out a huff of air, then reached between them to position himself at her entrance. Then he was pushing forward, stretching her, it burned. She held her breath, he pulled back a little, and then–
“Ow! Ow ow ow ow!”
Nehesy froze, eyes wide with concern and perhaps a touch of horror. “Imi?”
“Too big,” she gasped. Her inner walls stung from the sudden invasion.
Nehesy cursed and started to withdraw. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Imi locked her limbs about him. “Don’t move. Wait,” she pleaded. She refused to give up so easily.
Nehesy’s body shuddered, and Imi realized it must be an effort to control himself. His erection throbbed against her inner walls, and she flexed in response. He groaned.
The sting was fading. She wiggled, and he flinched.
“Imi,” his voice was a desperate appeal.
“Wait. Just a moment,” she whispered, feeling much better already. Knowing she held power over him, this man who had tormented her memories and dreams for so long. She kissed the side of his neck and nipped his earlobe. His cock jerked. Yes. She did it again, inhaling myrrh and sandalwood and man, tinged with salt from the sweat beading on his body now.
Nehesy’s breath was coming in laboured puffs, his body trembling, fingers digging into the bed next to her head. She was doing this to him. Driving him mad with want. Desire began to pool between her thighs again as she ran her hands over the strong muscles of his shoulders and flanks.
She shifted her hips experimentally, and Nehesy’s head dropped to the bed as he moaned her name.
Definitely better. She lifted herself up to take more of him in, and he made a gentle thrust.
“Yesss,” this was her, purring. Because it was good this time. As good as the slide of his body against her felt on the outside, it was spectacular on the inside.
She dug her heels into his buttocks and pulled him to her. And it took a moment to find a rhythm, but then they did, and he was thrusting deeper, harder, faster, and she held on as if her life depended on it. And for this moment, it was everything that mattered.
Their pace increased until Nehesy warned her he was close. He reached between them and placed his fingers over her sensitive nub, pressing hard and circling. When the maelstrom overtook her for a second time, she was ready for it. Even as Nehesy tore away and spent himself against her belly, Imi rode the waves of the climax coursing through her body and wrung every last drop of joy out of it.