The Haunted Sultan (Skeleton Key) (8 page)

“
M
ay I ask something first
?” the Sultan asked slyly. “How would this keeper of the shop know you weren’t a virgin?”

“I’m twenty-one,” Sierra said and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, that is quite old,” the Sultan replied in all seriousness, which made Sierra frown.

“In his day, Sierra, you would be married off and on your third kid,” Owen smiled to soften the blow. “Now you’re barely legal. Shit, you didn’t tell me you were only twenty-one.”

“Does it matter how old I am? How old are you?” she fired back.

“Twenty-eight. Shit, I feel like I’m robbing the cradle.” Owen ran a hand over his face.

“Well, if you don’t want to rob this cradle, by all means.” She motioned for him to walk away.

“Wait, I didn’t say that. A guy has to get used to some things.” he tugged on her until she fell back into his arms. He lifted her chin carefully and softly kissed her lips. He held himself in check so he wouldn’t fall into the spell. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

It was a sweet kiss. Filled with promise and hope. Hope that even though they had a very carnal start, they could set things on the right track and make a go of their unique experience. His tongue slipped past her lips and tangled with hers, giving as well as receiving until they were pressed up against each other. Her hands slipped into his hair and his were roaming all over her exposed skin.

Owen tried to control things, but it was a battle he wanted to lose.

“Please, may I join?” The Sultan tapped Owen on the shoulder, causing the couple to break apart and look at the foreign man guiltily.

“No, man, sorry, I don’t share.” Owen put a protective arm around Sierra.

“I am not interested in share. You can both be blessed with my knowledge of the art of seduction.” He waggled his eyebrows, not to be funny, but in all seriousness. Sierra broke into a guffaw and the Sultan crossed his arms in insult.

“I am offended by your laughing. I am as serious as a shrew. The women of the harem trained me well.”

“And I’m sure you’re excellent at that,” Sierra patted him on the shoulder, “But, maybe we should focus on the matter at hand. Getting rid of this Peri. Where’s that vase?”

“You are right, Mountain. You shall break the vase.”

“Just break it, like that?” Owen looked skeptical. He didn’t want Sierra to take any chances. Maybe he should break the vase.

“Yes. Do it,” the Sultan urged.

“Alright, here goes.” Sierra went to the fireplace and grabbed the vase. She held it over her head and braced herself for a powerful throw.

A cold rush of air blasted through the room.

S
ierra froze
, the vase held above her head, ready to throw. She couldn’t move. The air thickened, and she felt something in the wind, granules of something like sand. It hit the room like a sandstorm. Tapestries were ripped off the walls, sofas were thrown into the air and crystal and china fell to the ground in a crash.

Sierra’s body stung everywhere her skin was exposed. The sand hit her with a force that was painful. Owen grabbed for Sierra, his big body trying to shield her from the assault. But as he tried to protect her, the sand coalesced, ripping at her body, moving her. It was trying to take the vase away from her. It beat at her arms.

Sierra held on with all her might. She couldn’t let go, if she did the Peri would have its vessel. It would hide it and they would never be free of this place. But the pain was getting to be too much. Scratches appeared on her arms, her skin burned.

“Owen,” she pleaded, indicating with her head, the vase. “Do something.”

He left her, alone, with only the attack of the wind. She held on mightily. Her eyes were tightly closed, unable to stay open because of the sand. She was in a whirlwind. The granules stormed around her in a twister of sand, raising her up and pitching her around the room.

She screamed as something slammed into her hard.

The crash of glass made her eyes pop open. Shards of glass rained down her arms and over her head. She felt the sting of cuts as it hit her cheeks and her arms. But she didn’t care. Owen had done it.

The wind died down and she looked at him, holding a fireplace poker in his hand. He must have hit the vase as she held on for dear life.

Sierra waited for it to be over, but the wind still whipped. Not as strong, but still there, still bombarding her with sand. She looked down at her feet, the vase was destroyed but there were still large parts of it.

“Sierra,” Owen implored and handed her the poker and he began to stomp on the pieces of the vase, grounding them to tiny shards. Sierra followed suit, slamming the poker into each large piece that she found.

The wind was now only a little gust. Sierra looked up from her glass smashing task to see the sand eddies had started to coalesce into a form. But the Peri was weak looking, translucent. He reached for them, his face a mask of pain.

Sierra and Owen didn’t let up. They stomped and slammed the poker down until every last shard was ground to dust.

A loud pop ricocheted off the walls and the Peri winked out of existence.

“It is done.” The Sultan looked at Sierra in gratitude. “Mountain, you have saved me from eternal torment. Nothing I can say will convey my gratitude. Let me repay you with pleasure.”

“
See-eh-rah
,” she annunciated, but the Sultan shrugged, it wasn’t like it mattered to him. “Fine. Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.” She was suddenly self-conscious. The Sultan was looking at her like she was the Virgin Mary.

“You were amazing.” Owen wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed. “Are you okay? That sand hurt.” He looked her up and down but there wasn’t any visible damage. Her skin was red as if she had a light sunburn and there was sand in all her cracks and crevices, but other than that she was fine. The worst injuries were from the broken vase. A few cuts oozed blood down her bare arms. When he noticed her injuries, he pulled off his shirt, exposing miles and miles of skin over tightly defined muscles, making Sierra sigh and want to touch. She wanted to do more than touch, even with the sting of her injuries.

Owen ripped his shirt and wrapped the pieces around her arm, tying them off.

“When we get out of here, I’ll fix them up right,” he whispered and touched her cheek. She desperately wanted that. The lust spell might have worn off, but Sierra was smitten.

“I have the idea.” The Sultan raised a finger in the air and Sierra and Owen glanced at him.

“To say thank you, we shall all have pleasure. I am quite good at pleasure,” he leered and moved forward.

“Uh, Sultan, Ali…” Sierra froze as the Sultan pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips feather light on her neck, causing her to shiver.

“That’s enough.” Owen pulled her back to his side, the Sultan blinked up at them.

“A thank you would be enough,” Sierra said with a smile, kind of turned on by Owen’s protectiveness.

“And I think we’re running out of time, no time for pleasure.” Owen motioned to the room around them.

Sierra noticed the difference. The smell was different. The jasmine had faded, leaving behind a musty smell. The colors were not quite as bright. The magic of the place was disappearing. The spell had been broken. The Sultan’s time here was over. Sierra and Owen had done their job and now it was time for this man lost in time, this ghost, to move on. Where that was, Sierra had no clue, but there was something waiting for him.

“Ali,” Sierra said gently and he nodded as if he understood. He could see the difference in the room too.

“I have an adventure to begin it would seem,” he chuckled, it was a deep spicy laugh. This man would have been a force to be reckoned with in his day. “I would like to stay and go an adventure with you two, such a beautiful modern pair,” he touched Sierra’s cheek wistfully, “I believe I would like this future.”

“I believe you would too,” Sierra said. “But I think fate has other plans for you.” She stepped back and watched as the Sultan began to lose some of his vibrancy. Slowly he faded. He looked down at his now translucent hands in wonder. He was now truly the ghost, the apparition on the balcony that they had spotted at the beginning of the night.

A great light burst out from behind him and he turned with a look of wonder. He didn’t say a word. He slipped into the light and disappeared from sight, the light fading the moment he passed over the threshold.

“That was something,” Owen said softly.

“That was something indeed. Never thought I would be doing something like this on my trip to New Orleans,” Sierra laughed.

The couple took in their surroundings. The lush room, now dimmed, not quite so vibrant. The pillows littered the floor, scattered in no discernible pattern, but still plush and comfy looking. The drapes fluttered from a muted wind and a soft light flowed in from the outside, 1800s New Orleans was still going strong even after the Sultan had moved on.

Owen’s gaze heated as the two locked gazes.

“I know we were both under some sort of spell, but I can’t get that moment, that time out of my head. Please tell me you don’t feel like I took advantage of you. I could never forgive myself.” He took her hand.

“Oh, no, it was…well, it was amazing. I’ve never felt like that before,” she said. He had moved directly in front of her, his hands at her hips. She stared up into his eyes and had never felt so lost before in her life. What they had gone through gave Sierra the feeling that she knew Owen better than she knew some of her close friends, but at the same time she knew hardly anything about him. She knew he was a nice guy, she knew he cared about her welfare, and she knew he was ridiculously good in bed.

He pulled her to him, his hard body pressed against hers. His head dipped down to meet hers and their lips touched. Light at first, like before. It was a tentative touch, allowing her to pull back. Allowing her to make a choice. She made the choice to deepen it. She pulled him closer, gripping his shoulders and holding on as if her life depended on it.

He kissed over her chin and down her neck. She moved her head to the side giving him access. He kissed down her neck, light and soft, as if he didn’t want to push her too hard, or too far. But Sierra didn’t care if he pushed too hard. She wanted him. She wanted to feel what they experienced before. She wanted to know if it could be that good without a spell and she was impatient to find out. The hard bulge of his excitement pressed against her leg.

Her hand moved to the front of his jeans, rubbing him through the thick material, making him groan against her neck. She fumbled with his button and fly, reaching into his pants and releasing him. He was as perfect as she remembered. Rock hard and thick. She wrapped her palm around him and pulled, running her hand seductively along his length and over the head.

“Fuck, Sierra,” he moaned.

“That’s the point,” she purred and went to her knees in front of him. She wanted to hear him moan again. She wanted him to lose control. She licked the bottom of his cock while she yanked his pants down to his ankles, giving him more room to brace himself.

She took him in her hand and swallowed him, deep and long. He cried out her name and some other expletives, his hands plunging into her hair, but he made no move to guide her. He let her set the pace, let her pump down onto him, licking him with each pull of her mouth. She pumped him with her hand into her mouth, savoring every curse, every shiver he made. Each time she slid her tongue across his length, he rewarded her with another delicious sound.

“I’m close, I want to come in your delicious mouth.” She let him take control. He began to rock into her mouth, his hand holding tight to her head as he pushed her onto his cock, fucking her mouth.

He came with another curse, another cry to the heavens, and his hot seed emptied into Sierra. She swallowed him down with eagerness, loving the taste of him, loving the way he lost control.

O
wen’s mind was blown
. He didn’t know how this could possible happen to him. He had witnessed mind blowing carnage and was now experiencing the hottest sex of his lifetime.

Sierra, her face flushed from excitement, stood up in front of him and he pulled her to him, kissing her and tasting him on her tongue. She had swallowed him down with no complaint and it was ridiculously hot. He wanted to make her come now.

He slid his arms around her, releasing the snap of her bodice with a click. The sparkling bra fell away, revealing her breasts. Her dark nipples were hard and erect and he sucked one into his mouth, biting down lightly and eliciting a yelp from her.

With another tug he was relieving her of her skirt. She was so gorgeous, her skin a dusty bronze, decorated with the bright swirls and loops of her ink.

“Lay down,” he ordered and she obeyed him, lying back on the pillows, her knees together demurely. He needed to change that.

He got to his knees next to her and slipped a hand between her knees.

“None of that,” he said gently and spread her legs. She still wore the full underwear that went with her costume, it covered too much, but he wanted to play.

He crawled on his knees until he was settled between her legs, looking down at her body splayed out in front of him. Her long dark hair was spread out on the pillows and her lips were red and swollen from sucking his cock. She was the most exquisite creature he had the pleasure to come in contact with. Exotic and enticing.

He ran his hand down her leg, marveling at the shivers it sent over her body and the quick inhalation of her breath as he neared her pussy. She wanted him to touch her. He could see it in her eyes, in how she spread her legs wider the closer he got, thrusting that hot little cunt forward in offering. And he would take it, he would take every piece of her that she wanted to give. He was greedy like that. He wanted Sierra. He wanted Sierra more than he had wanted anything. He wanted to be buried deep inside of her, but he had to hold back, just a little.

He slid his hand over her soft inner thigh and she squirmed, ticklish.

“Amazing,” he said on a soft exhalation of breath.

His finger slipped underneath the elastic of her panties and she gasped.

“Please, Owen,” she begged and he grinned at her, satisfied with her reaction. He wanted her to beg.

He moved the silky material aside, revealing the wet mound of her pussy. She was swollen and dripping, all from sucking him off. He liked this girl, liked her a lot. He wanted more.

With a quick stroke he slid his fingers through her wet folds and revealed the tight bud of her clit.

“Owen,” she begged, thrusting her hips forward.

“Easy, baby,” he purred. His thumb rubbed over her clit and she jumped again. She was so responsive to his touch, it was an ego boost. He slipped a finger inside of her. Wet and warm, she sucked at his finger, pumping against him when he moved in and out of her. With each stroke he rubbed her clit with his thumb, while slipping a second finger into her and speeding up his pace.

He wanted it to be his cock, but he knew he had to make her come first.

Owen sat back, moving to the side of her as he relieved her of her panties, pulling them over those silky smooth legs and flinging them across the room. He maneuvered back between her legs, pushing them open, spreading them so he could have access to all of her.

Instead of his finger, he bent over her and sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Son of a bitch,” she squealed and slapped the pillows as she pushed forward against his tongue.

“Pretty pussy,” he murmured as he licked at her folds, slipping a finger into her to complete the sensation.

“Owen, I…” she cut off in a scream of pleasure when he sucked hard on her and slipped another finger into her, finding the perfect spot, the perfect stimulation that rendered her speechless. She was nothing but moans and unintelligible words as she flailed under him. Owen didn’t let up. He licked her in a consistent pace with the perfect pressure.

She came hard. Her body pumping into him, clenching around his fingers. He lapped up her juices, loving the taste of her, the abandon of her cries.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Sierra.” He sat back and aligned himself with her soaked core.

“Yes, please, Owen,” she moaned, her hand drifting between her legs to help him enter her. It wasn’t necessary though. He slipped inside of her with ease. He was big and thick, but Sierra was dripping with need and this was what she wanted. His cock. She was dying for it, begging, and when he seated himself in her hot little pussy, he lost himself to the sensation.

She was incredible. So unbelievably sexy. He never wanted this to end. He told her so and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing him deeper.

He pumped into her, at first slow and steady, but as the intensity of their union overwhelmed him his pace became hurried, hard, but he never lost control. She moaned when he hit the right spot and he continued the assault, pumping into her, enjoying every moment of this.

He knew she was close. Her breath hitched and she panted from the pace of their joining. She stared at him, her bottom lip trembling as the orgasm ripped through her, causing her to throw her head back in a scream.

Owen wasn’t far behind her. Watching her come, the pull on his dick and the flood of juices was too much. He fell over the edge with her, emptying inside of her with one final thrust.

He was seeing stars, specs of black and white lights popping behind his eyes as he pulled from her, his cock still semi-hard. He wasn’t quite satisfied, but he would have to be. He had to make sure they got back safe and that wouldn’t be accomplished rutting around on the floor of the Sultan’s Palace.