Dark Journey

Grabbing her slender waist, Daniel looked into her eyes. “I’ve been wrong before.”

He kissed her. She stiffened for a fraction of a second and then relaxed in his arms, returning his kiss fully and eagerly. She, a goddess once adored by millions, wanted a man like him as much as he wanted her. He had been a serf, helped found a colony, fought Freebloods, governed a compound where Opiri and humans lived in relative harmony.

But in the end there was nothing more than this.

He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the small bedroom off the living area. The bed’s wooden footboard and headboard were decorated with ancient Egyptian motifs and carvings of human figures going about their daily tasks, from harvesting grains to fishing in the river. A woman held a child to her breast, and birds dipped and dived among the rushes.

Isis followed his gaze. “There are some things I do not wish to forget,” she said.

Daniel laid her on the bed, staring at the carvings. Isis pulled his head down and kissed him. At once he was inundated by dreams of another time and place, the cool of night on bare skin and the smell of a river as the flower-scented boat glided along, the oars pulled by bronze-skinned men in simple white kilts, singing as he held Isis in his arms.

Unembarrassed by their presence, he unfastened her gown and untied the sash. She wore nothing underneath. Her wide necklace glowed against the golden skin above her breasts, and her bracelets chimed softly as she stretched her arms over her head.

There were no words between them, nothing to break the spell.

She wrapped her thighs around his hips and sighed as he eased inside her. Her breasts rose and fell with each short, sharp breath. She was smooth and warm and wet, drawing him in, and he began to breathe harshly as the pace quickened and she arched up to meet his thrusts. He kissed her breasts, one and then the other, and licked the warm skin of her shoulder. She pulled him closer with agile fingers and pressed her lips to his neck.