The Eighth Pearl
Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Evelyn Starr
Word Count :9629
Publication Date :2013-05-20
Series : #
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-77111-568-1
He’d been running from the three dogged, determined male Numens for nearly as long as he could remember. Even in dire times when adventure had long since ceased to be, he had continued seeking it. Continued seeking his gratification and his pleasure wherever and in whatever manner he could.
He had never before dared venture so deeply into the Sacred Circles from which his station and his scarlet robes forbade him. Not until this time, when boredom and the lack of new pleasure had driven him nearly to madness. So much so that he had dared it all. Dared to penetrate to the Eighth and innermost Circle. The Circle consecrated to the One and sacred to the One.
And now he hovered, frozen, though the magical waters that surrounded him and buoyed him were as warm as ever. As balmy, peaceful and devoid of the life that had once bustled, surely, even here. Even at the highest and most pure state to which it was possible for a mortal…or immortal…Akrotirian to aspire.
Rynom hovered, his feet barely touching the sand-strewn marble of the temple floor. Drawn up short with his heart lodged tight inside his throat while something else, something sharp-edged and fabulously visceral gnawed away at the lower and tighter areas of his body. The ones he’d given up satisfying with his self-strokings and self-ministrations using several highly unsatisfactory instruments he’d devised for himself in the fading hope of achieving sexual satisfaction just one more time.
He recognized her instantly, though of course he had never before seen her, being of his ilk and his deliciously dissolute persuasion and all.
He recognized the shimmering, celestial habit…the white robe and cowl…of the one true and sanctified virgin. The Eighth Pearl, Teacher of the Sacred Ring and Oracle of The One. Just as he recognized and felt an instant, unaccountable awe of the heavy medallion suspended from the slender tip of her nose, placed there as his own piercings had been, to mark her and rule her existence that would continue only as long as she wore it. Just as he recognized the icy blueness of eyes that darted quickly with fear or something else he could not read, taking in the scarlet of his robes and the dangle of golden chain between his nipples.
He had hardened instantly upon catching sight of her, still enshrined in her marble pavilion. Now he hardened more. Hardened purposefully, with a glee and an expectation that the thin fabric of his robe had never been meant to hide.
His nipples ached harshly with the need to begin the seduction, the desecration. Hot jolts rose in each of them, then flowed outward and transmitted a nearly electrical shock to the other. Bringing him alive. Bringing him into full rut just as the deeply embedded rings and fine chain had been designed to do.
He had not seen a woman in eons.