Atlantean's Quest: Exodus Part 11

She s.h.i.+fted until her chin rested on his chest. Her eyes found his and her breath caught. Jac didn't think she'd ever get over how beautiful his jade eyes were, mesmerizing, flawless, like the jewel they resembled. She wet her lips.

"I want to go into camp tonight." Jac tried to sound restrained. She figured if she could convince Ares he'd tamed her, she'd have a better chance of getting her way. If this tact didn't work, she'd try another.

His face tensed, but his gaze never wavered. "Why?"

Jac looked to the side, playing demur, before returning to his face. "I haven't seen Rachel or anyone else for that matter for three days."

Ares muscles tightened, raw emotion played over his features. "Do you wish to see anyone else in particular?"

Jac started. For a second, she wasn't sure how to answer, then she realized he thought she wanted to see Coridan. A smile teased at the corners of her mouth, before turning into a full-blown grin.

"Are you jealous?"

He s.h.i.+fted Jac off his body. "I know not what you speak of."

She laughed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." Jac nudged him with her elbow.

"If you want to see Rachel tonight, then you must be prepared."

Her brows furrowed. "Prepared, how?"

It was Ares turn to smile, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. Jac decided she didn't like his expression. It made her nervous-very nervous. The last time he looked anything like that she'd end up tied to the bed for two days. Anger rose anew, but she pushed it down. She needed to get out of this hut before she went even more stir crazy.

G.o.d only knew what he was up to now. Was he going to put a collar around her neck and make her walk through the compound naked, on a leash? She had a feeling it would be much worse. But she also knew one more thing, if she didn't go along with whatever he wanted she'd find herself back tied to the bed and stuck here for four more days until this challenge had been completed.

Jac shook her head. That was unacceptable.

"Okay," she released a breath. "Give it to me straight, what do I have to do in this preparation?"

His smile widened. "I must mark you before you can be presented to the tribe."

"Mark me?" She raised a brow. "What in the h.e.l.l is that?"

Ares carefully moved over Jac and rose from the furs. He walked over to a small compartment in the wall that she hadn't noticed before and withdrew more items, adding them to the ones he'd brought from Ariel's hut. They looked like tools of some sort.

"What are you going to do with those, build a birdhouse for a c.o.c.katoo?" Jac tried to joke, but her heart raced in her chest as if she were running a marathon.

He shook his head slowly, then curled his finger, beckoning her to come.

Jac couldn't seem to move a muscle. Every fiber of her being operated on red alert and there was no standby. She glanced from Ares to the table where he'd laid out the items and then back.

"F-first tell me what you're going to do," she stalled, trying to give herself enough time to come up with a plan of escape. For f.u.c.k sake Jac, keep your voice steady.

"The sooner I put the markings to you, the sooner you'll get to see Rachel." His tone dropped and his brows furrowed. "And whoever else you seek."

Jac swallowed hard and forced herself to move. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out on her, as she slipped from the bed. She took a deep breath and her chin shot up, her gaze unwavering. Jac strode the few steps needed to reach Ares with as much strength and pride as she could muster. She felt as if someone forced her to walk to her own execution. Jac doubted Ares would do anything to harm her, but she didn't like the look of those tools. Knowing Ariel, they'd probably been forged to use as some demented form of gynecological torture.

She squared her shoulders and faced Ares. "Get on with it then."

Ares smiled, pride showing in his green depths. He picked up the first instrument, resembling a thick knitting needle and dipped it into a black liquid substance contained in a small bowl. He raised the tool, bringing it toward Jac's abdomen. Unconsciously, she jumped back.

"It will not hurt." He reached out with his free hand and drew her back. "You have my word."

"I can take the pain," she protested. "I wasn't ready."

Ares brow arched, but he said nothing. He raised the instrument once more to her stomach and began to draw strange symbols onto her skin.

"What do those mean?" Jac pointed, trying to watch his movements, but it was difficult to see around her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He didn't look up, but continued to work as he spoke. "They tell a story of sorts. One of bravery and honor. Dominance and submission."

Jac shook her head and Ares steadied her. "Don't move, it is crucial I get these symbols right."

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to breathe shallowly. Jac had a feeling Ares wasn't telling her the whole story behind the symbols. The design he created looked exactly like his own. She decided once they arrived at the village she'd seek out Rachel to find out if she knew anything. Surely someone in the tribe would be able to explain them to her.

He continued to paint, making bold strokes with the black dye. When he'd completed the area beneath her belly b.u.t.ton, Ares moved onto her lower back. By the time he finished, Jac looked as if she wore a thin intricately woven belt. She took a step away when he laid the needle like tool down.

"We are not finished, yet." Ares grabbed her around the waist, heat poured from his hands, radiating throughout her body. A few moments pa.s.sed and then he released her.

She stilled. "You've already covered my waist in designs-did the heat thingy, what more needs to be done?"

He snorted and opened another pouch, containing a red liquid.

"You've got to be kidding. Tell me you're not going to fill all those symbols in with color?"

"I am not."

"Then what are you going to do with that?" Jac pointed to the red liquid.

Ares smiled and lifted what looked like a paintbrush and began dipping it into the dye.

"Ares, I asked you a question..."

His eyes flashed with pure devilry. "And I'm about to give you your answer."

Chapter Eleven.

Ares raised the brush that was dripping with red liquid, to Jac's nipple. The sc.r.a.pe of the bristles caused her areola to pucker. She held her breath as he circled the turgid peak until it had been thoroughly saturated in dye. Jac glanced down-her t.i.t looked engorged. He proceeded to paint the other, lingering on the tip long enough to evoke her pa.s.sion. She felt her p.u.s.s.y flood, drenching her inner lips.

Jac groaned and tried to catch her breath. "Is all this necessary, when I'm going to be clothed?"

The carnal look Ares gave her told Jac without words there was no doubt he was up to something.

But Jac would be d.a.m.ned if she could figure out what. She let him finish, before asking again. "You've ripped up my clothes, so what am I supposed to wear in the meantime?"

Ares dipped a brush in a clear fluid, rinsing the dye away. His hand moved up and down, then side to side. He didn't turn or even give a glimmer of acknowledgement, acting instead as if he hadn't heard her at all.

She looked around the hut. Jac supposed with his help she could create some kind of toga out of one of the furs on the bed. She could always wrap a scarf around her waist to hold the thing in place, but of course that hadn't worked earlier.

Ares put the brush down and sealed the containers. He walked to the hidden compartment and placed them inside. Before he turned back to Jac, she saw him pull jade colored material from the inside and then close the door. He walked back to her, his hand encasing the item. When Ares stood before Jac he held out the cloth.

Jac looked at it and frowned. The color was beautiful, but seemed of little use to her. "What do you want me to do with that?"

"I wish you to wear it."

She stared at the sc.r.a.p of material, then looked up at Ares. "On what, my head?"

He snorted, his eyes never leaving Jac's face. "'Tis a skirt."

Jac took it from his hands and examined it. "Where's the s.h.i.+rt?"

He grinned again.

The skin on the back of Jac's scalp p.r.i.c.kled, tightening to the point of pain. Surely he joked. She ran her hand over the skirt and it appeared to change color in the low light of the fire pot.

"No, I mean it." She tilted her head. "Where's the rest of the outfit? You can't expect me to run around half naked like the other women here."

"'Tis all you need." Ares laughed. "'Tis all you'll ever need, in Atlantean society."

"Yeah, well therein lies the problem." She moved her hands to her slim hips. "I'm not part of this society. I'm a New Yorker. We don't wear anything out of season." Jac shook her head. "h.e.l.l, we don't wear much that isn't black, so..." She handed the skirt back to Ares. "This isn't going to work for me."

He took it, running his palms over the material. It instantly turned black and then handed it back to her.

"Fine. Now if you can produce a top, we'll be set."

"Nay." He shook his head. "'Tis disrespectful in the eyes of our society."

Jac's jaw set. "Screw your society. I'm not going anywhere without a s.h.i.+rt."

His eyes hardened. "Then you go nowhere."

By the tone of his voice, Jac could tell he wasn't bluffing. d.a.m.n him. She glanced down at the sheer black skirt in her hands. She didn't have anything against nudity, per se. h.e.l.l, she'd been to nudist beaches before, but this was different. These people were different. They didn't view toplessness as anything unusual, but with the challenge going on, the thought of being semi-nude left her feeling at a distinct disadvantage. What if she ran into Coridan? And how in the h.e.l.l was she supposed to kick major a.s.s in a skirt?

Just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, Jac began to formulate a plan. If Ares was set on her going topless, then she'd make sure he was as uncomfortable as her. Jac planted the sweetest smile on her face that she could muster, then slipped the skirt on. She sashayed across the floor, adding a little more swing than her hips naturally had. She turned in time to see Ares's expression change from stubbornness to hunger.

Oh yeah, this might be fun after all.

"Lead the way, I'll follow." She smiled again, looking forward to the torture to come.

Ares led Jac through the jungle, careful not to let her trip on the lianas. She looked particularly seductive with her nipples rouged and her tattoo marking her. She thought it to be temporary, but he knew better.

The gleam in her blue eyes held nothing but mischief. There was no way he could predict her next move, only antic.i.p.ate it coming. Ares chose not to read her mind, even though he could easily do so. He wanted her to trust him and that wouldn't happen if he continued to violate her privacy. Ares blew out a steadying breath, then pushed the last fern aside, so she could step into the compound. Jac hesitated but a moment, then walked on, head held high.

Rachel and Eros sat at the head of the feasting table. The rest of the tribe was seated along the sides. The table was surrounded by lit torches, illuminating the evening meal. They raised their heads when Ares entered the area, but said nothing. Ares did not miss the surprise, lighting their eyes. He led Jac over to the banquet and seated her near Rachel.

"You look fantastic. Is Ares treating you all right?" Rachel leaned forward and asked.

"Thanks, you could have told me I was going to wind up naked, too." Rachel's face flushed under Jac's sarcasm. Jac bit back a curse, then apologized. "I'm sorry. I get cranky when I'm kept away from all the action in town, you know that."

Rachel giggled, then shook her head in understanding.

"What else don't I know?"

Rachel flushed and looked away.

Ares raised a brow at Jac's question, then looked to Eros.

Has Coridan dined tonight?

Nay my friend. Eros answered in the preferred Atlantean method.

Ares's jaw clenched, as his eyes scanned the peripheral of the village. There was no sign of Coridan, but that did not mean he would not arrive. For some reason it disturbed Ares to have the young warrior lay eyes upon Jac in her proper attire. He fisted his hands.

Eros clasped Ares's forearm. Sit my friend and break bread with us. It does no good to worry about what is not.

Ares gave Eros a curt nod and sat beside Jac. The material of her skirt brushed against his hard thigh, causing every muscle in his body to go on alert. Five large bowls of fruit had been placed along the center of the table, cups, carved from the huingo fruit, containing mango and banana juice had been poured, ready for consumption. Ares s.n.a.t.c.hed a cup, quickly pa.s.sing it to Jac, then took one for himself. She acknowledged him with a tilt of her head, but kept talking with Rachel. He ignored the need to capture her attention. He wasn't ready to share Jac yet, with the rest of the tribe.

The hair on Ares's nape stood on end, the only warning he got of Coridan's impending approach. The young warrior stepped from the jungle. His eyes sparked blue fire as they landed on Ares, then moved onto Jac. For a moment his corded body tensed, then Coridan strode forward to join the group, his gaze unwavering from Jac's lithe body.

Ares gripped the edge of the table, every instinct screaming at him to fell his opponent before Coridan had a chance to take his mate. Jac may not consider herself his mate yet, but in time she would come to accept him...Ares hoped. He watched as Coridan made his way around the table, positioning himself next to Rachel. Coridan dropped to his knees beside her chair and greeted her in traditional Atlantean fas.h.i.+on, pressing his lips to each of her nipples, before standing to take a seat.

From Coridan's position he had an unimpeded view of Jac's pert b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her puckered nipples stood out daringly, since Ares had applied the red dye. Ares felt the wood beneath his fingertips begin to splinter. Coridan's gaze had not left Jac's creamy peaks since he'd joined them. Ares shoved a gla.s.s of banana juice toward Coridan, almost upending it in his lap. The young warrior caught the cup at the last second, a taunting smile plastered on his golden face.

Ares cursed under his breath and brought his hands down to his sides. His knuckles accidentally brushed Jac's leg, causing her to jump. He didn't miss her quick intake of breath or the way her pupils dilated in response. The past few days had gone better than he'd expected. They'd grown so attuned with each other's needs and wants that words were no longer needed.

Ares had memorized every inch of Jac's pale white skin, long legs, and tantalizing lips. With a sc.r.a.pe here and a nip there he could have her coming for him within a matter of minutes. Her responsiveness had been a gift from the great G.o.ddess. She'd seen fit to send him a warrior woman to stand proudly by his side. He could ask for nothing more.

Ares sought out Coridan's gaze. When he had the young warrior's attention Ares let his lip curl back into a sinister smile, a subtle warning letting Coridan know, that in no uncertain terms would he surrender what was rightfully his. And Jac was his, whether she believed it or not. Coridan acknowledged Ares with a slight jerk of his head, but he didn't look away, in fact he intensified his gaze, allowed it to harden, sending a direct challenge right back.

"Come Coridan, eat." Eros pointed to a seat further down the table.

"Thank you, my King." Coridan's words were clipped, as he reached for some fruit and began to eat. His aqua gaze strayed back to Jac again and again.

Jac glanced sideways. Ares's concentration centered on Coridan, his face hardened into a mask of undisguised fury. He was jealous. She shook her head and tucked that bit of information away for later use. His distraction would give her time to ask Rachel a few questions.

"Do you have any idea what these markings mean?" Jac whispered.

Rachel chewed on her lip. "I noticed them when you approached, but I've never seen tattooing in this tribe." She glanced from side to side, then leaned closer. "It's common in other peoples, but not Atlanteans as far as I've seen."

"I tried to smudge one of the symbols with my thumb, but it didn't budge."

Rachel looked worried.