Page 27 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor’s Destiny (Time for Monsters)

W hat Vardor was offering seemed too good to be true. Had his madness taken over my mind too? Was insanity contagious? I didn't think so, but it had to be, because I believed with all my heart that he was telling the truth.

I saw the knife move into his stomach; I could still see where it had cut the material of his clothes. The blade hadn't broken off, it had entered his stomach. I saw it.

There was only one explanation: he was a god.

I had no idea how this reconciled with what I had been taught all my life about God. No, not only taught, but believed. I went to church every Sunday, every holiday. I listened to the gospel, I read the Bible. Yet, I allowed, I had also studied as much as I could about Egypt, and they had believed in their gods. Just as fully as I did in mine. They had been convinced they were real. Was one of them right in front of me now?

It never occurred to me before to question religion, but now I wondered. For thousands of years, the Egyptians had believed in their gods, as did the Greeks and Romans, and now, I allowed, all who we call heathens around the world. Were they, though?

Alright, this was something to mull over at another time, I decided. Right now, there were far more important things to consider, namely, how good Vardor had made me feel. My body, despite my fainting stint, was still tingling with never before experienced sensations. My flesh was still sensitive to the touch. Nothing had ever felt this good.

I might not have known much about what happened between a man and a woman on their wedding night and beyond, but I wasn't completely na?ve. Babies were made that way—whatever way that was. And now I had a small idea how much pleasure came with the act.

My entire life, I have lived to fulfill certain standards. Obedience to my dad was the first, obedience to the law another. As a woman, I have conformed to certain protocols and rules of etiquette and never broken one.

Free !

Vardor said. I was free. He was right too. I was. At least I was free to do whatever he allowed me to do. But whenever I managed to escape, I would truly be free. Which meant I would have to live with the consequences of my own actions. Having relations with Vardor would be a complete break from everything I had ever done and known. It was an irrevocable act. It might even leave me with child.

If he weren't here, I wondered, if I were truly free , would I regret having his baby, or would I regret more not having had sexual congress with him? Just thinking that phrase made me blush. It had crossed my mind more often in the last hour than it had my entire life before. The answer to that was simple. I wasn't sure about the baby, but I was sure I would regret not having given in to my wants and taken what he offered.

According to the church, I would be a damned woman if I had a child out of wedlock. If I had sexual relations out of wedlock. But how much did the church and God really mean to me? I pondered that a moment, searching deep inside. I had prayed, as much as any good Christian, but God had never been a part of me like He seemed to be for others. The religious fervor others expressed had escaped me. I had gone to church like everyone else. It was like eating, or doing my chores. It was part of my life. A routine. Honestly, I had looked forward to my Sunday afternoon visits with Abbie more than anything else.

You'll go to hell , a little voice whispered. But would I?

Stop , my heart screamed. You are not Roweena any longer. Not the Roweena who left London. No matter what, there was no returning to my old life for me. After having been for weeks with Vardor, neither my father nor Thomas would take me back even if I wanted to return. I was tarnished goods. Spoiled goods. My old life and the old Roweena were gone.

So what did new Roweena want to do?

Vardor was sitting on the edge of the bed, studying me, waiting for my mind to come to terms with the truth. Carefully, I sat up, but any remnant of dizziness was gone.

Wordlessly, I pulled down the dress I had been clutching against my chest. At some point, Vardor must have loosened the ties to my corset, a discovery that should have embarrassed and outraged me; instead, it was just that—a discovery. I pulled the strings through the little holes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes riveted on my hands.

"I don't know much about this," I replied, raising my eyes to meet his. There was no hesitation in me, no second thoughts, not even embarrassment. "You'll have to teach me, but I do know that we should be naked, shouldn't we?"

The way his pupils dilated, how his expression switched from surprise to desire and hunger made me feel powerful. More powerful than I had ever felt in my life. I might be physically weaker than him, but I was finding out fast that I held certain powers in my hands too.

As soon as all the strings were out of the corset, I flung it to the ground, "No more. I will not ever wear that thing again."

His eyes glinted in approval, but I cautioned him, "People might start talking about me, us."

"Do I look like I care?" He shot back.

"No," I laughed. And that was freeing on its own. Not caring what other people thought or said? What was more liberating than that?

There was not a trace of shame between us when we finally stood fully naked in front of each other. Had I ever imagined this moment, I would undoubtedly have been mortified and humiliated. I was neither. There was only curiosity.

So this was what a man's body looked like? I liked it. I liked it very much. I liked the hard ridges and taut muscles, ropes and ropes of muscles. Liked how his skin quivered when I brushed my fingers over his stomach, up his wide chest. He was hard. So hard. Everywhere. I hadn't called up the courage yet to look lower, but it would be only a matter of moments.

Vardor stood still, sensing I needed this time to familiarize myself with the strangeness of his body. So different from mine. Slowly, I moved around him, brushed over his biceps, and felt them flexing underneath my fingers. A rush of heat spread through me. His back was just as toned and muscular as his front. Its dark coloring stood out against my pale skin.

When I returned to his chest, I took a deep breath, stepped back, and slowly lowered my eyes. I swallowed, his... his... cock—oh my God, I couldn't believe I thought that word, heat rushed to my face—stood up, bobbing against his stomach, the tip reaching his naval. I wasn't sure what I had expected, but not this. How did men keep that hidden?

Stop thinking !

I took a step forward, but he stopped me, "My turn."

Light like feathers, the tips of his fingers danced over my exposed breasts, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me as my skin pebbled and my nipples stiffened.

"So beautiful," he said.

His fingers kept dancing over my skin, up and down my arms, my stomach, my hips. My... my... buttocks. Oh dear, more liquid pooled between my legs, accompanied by a sensation of warmth and pleasure. What was this?

"Come." Gently, he moved me backward until my legs hit the bed. "Sit," he commanded.

He stood between my legs as I sank down on the bed. He dropped to the floor and placed both hands on my knees. The skin underneath his palms heated and sang. Then his hands, his full hands, moved up my inner thighs, softly pressing them apart until parts of me were exposed that nobody, not even me, had ever laid eyes on. Still, I didn't feel the slightest trace of embarrassment or humiliation. None.

"Ah," he breathed in loudly, "you smell delicious."

Before I knew what he was about to do, his fingers parted my folds. Having his hands there shot more heat through me, making my insides quiver. But that was nothing compared to the moment his tongue thrust out and brushed over me, right on the center of the spot that had been pulsing. Abbie once gave me a small book that made me blush in embarrassment. In it, the spot Vardor was now kissing was called Venus' Knot. I hadn't understood why, but now I did. As Vardor kept licking, my entire being knotted and tensed, but in a good way. Never would I have thought my body capable of this rush of bliss it was sending to my brain. Flames danced through me; every nerve and muscle inside me quivered. My body kept screaming for more, but how could there be more of this intense pleasure? It didn't seem possible. Yet a deep yearning ache moved up inside me, creating more of the juices Vardor so obviously was enjoying.

Tiny sounds escaped me simply because I couldn't keep them bottled up. They were a release, just as was sucking in my breath sharply when I felt a finger enter me. Oh God, that felt good. So good.

There it was—the sensation my body had been craving—but it still wasn’t enough. Greedy and insatiable, it demanded more. With every wicked thing Vardor did, that hunger only grew, refusing to be satisfied. Were my insides weeping with joy? Was that what this pooling of liquid was?

I didn't know. I was incapable of coherent thoughts and, soon, not even incoherent ones besides more, yes, and please ! Then my entire body tensed, and the most pleasant sensation took over. It rushed through my veins and arteries, made my nerves tingle and my muscles relax. Stars exploded in front of my eyes, and I cried out his name.

Ever so slowly, my heart rate dropped from the high it had been on, though my breathing was still hard, my vision fuzzy.

"Ah, the sweetest nectar," Vardor rose from between my legs. He was a sight to behold. The grin on his face dripped with pride. He licked his lips, sending another wave of heat through me. To my utter disbelief, my body still cried for more.

Softly, he lifted me and placed me fully on the bed. "I'll try to be gentle," he promised, raising my hips and aligning himself between my legs.

Pain, pain, pain , my mind primed itself. No matter what Abbie had said, this was what all the women had always warned of. Pain! That's why you need to be a virgin, so only your husband can lessen your pain. But it's still going to be bad , Helen warned me the morning of my wedding.

Bravely I nodded, biting my lip and balling the sheet between my fists. "I'm ready."

Something big teased my entrance, and I closed my eyes, tensing. His cock , breached inside me. Higher and higher it glid, parting walls. I held my breath, sure the pain would come now. He stopped. "I'm sorry."

And there it was. Just not as bad as I had anticipated. Not at all. A quick, sharp pain, but that was it. Followed by more pleasure as he moved up and up inside me, filling me. Inside, he was inside me!

My fists let go of the sheet, my arms rose in tandem with my hips. I grabbed his biceps with both hands, holding on to him as he began retreating, before he pushed back in. My eyes rolled back, no pain. Just pleasure. The most intense pleasure one could possibly imagine, and more. So much more.

His hands guided my hips until I picked up the rhythm, until we moved in beautiful sync together. His features in front of me contorted, changed, yet stayed the same. As if his face was overlaid over and over with his own image. Black eyes were riveted on me, so large, I saw my own reflection, but it looked different. I wore a strange collar, gold and heavy. He looked different, too, and yet the same.

Find me , a voice screamed in my head.

And then I was back, right here, right before the knots that had been building into one big, central knot, ripped apart. I screamed his name. The bliss was so overpowering, I needed to scream, otherwise I think I might have lost my mind. How was it possible to have never felt any of this before? A trembling, aching sweetness took over every part of me: my body, my mind, my soul. I felt like laughing and crying at the same time. It was a complete overload of bliss, incomparable to anything.

"Roweena!" Vardor roared, releasing his seed into me. He threw his head back, and the same unadulterated pleasure that overtook me reflected on his features.

Languidly, my body relaxed underneath him. My muscles let go, leaving me so content, so undone, I never wanted to come back from it.