Smoking Mirrors

The humidity inside the pyramids was excruciating, but this was her last one. One more artifact, and she could go home, where her soft mattress was waiting for her. Claire stepped through the incredibly small room where the artifact stood in a glass container. The royal cup belonged to one of the most well-known and powerful pharaohs, Osiris. He was also known as the lord of the dead.

Death and history always fascinated her. Stories and secrets were buried deep within the cracks and creases of old buildings and objects. You just had to know where to look and how to interpret them. It was well worth the trip, too. She was going to get paid some serious money if everything went according to plan. Claire was hired to steal the artifact and bring it back to a potential buyer. She had quite the reputation for stealing goods and transporting them across the border, successfully.

This time wasn't going to be different.

Claire had everything planned, down to the last second. The glass container shined excessively as she got closer, which didnt make sense since the light bulb was down to its last watt. The room was dimly lit, but somehow the glass case started glowing brighter with each step she took. But she didn't let a moment of temporary blindness stop her. She removed the glass case and retrieved the royal cup in her hands. The artifact was heavy in her hands, but nonetheless astonishing in beauty. It was rusty, blue like the sky, with images carved all around it. Specks of sand and dirt laid within the cracks of the cup, but Claire noticed a symbol and the bottom of the cup that was never in the books she looked through before her journey here.

The symbol was odd-looking, too intricate for her to find the words to describe it. The glowing started once again and Claire looked up, the symbol suddenly appearing on the wall of the pyramid. She placed the cup on top of the cup holder and felt the overwhelming sensation to go to the glowing wall. As if she were under some type of hypnosis. Her will was no longer her own. Claire touched the symbol on the grainy walls with her fingertips lightly, tracing the curves, the creases, and the lines. And when her fingers touched the last curve, Claire jumped when she heard a noise behind her. But there was no one there. She looked around, stepped over to the opening of the room and looked down both of the large hall ways. No one was there.

It was after midnight. No one was supposed to be in here. The tours had quieted down hours ago.

Claire shook her head and tried to shake off the eerie feeling of déjà vu that crept over her as she turned around. Her hands suddenly met the walls behind her, and her airway tightened as if someone were choking her. She gasped for air, her eyes closing. But then the pain subsided and she managed to open her eyes slowly. The first thing her eyes met were another pair of black eyes. His eyelashes framed his set perfectly, and his caramel colored skin complemented his darker hair. His soft lips, however, looked like they knew where to go, and where to stay.

"What a relief it is to see you here again," he said, his voice thick with an ancient, Middle Eastern accent, but he pronounced every word perfectly with his tongue.

Claire felt herself warm up even more, beads of sweat tickling her spine underneath her shirt, and dripping down her chest, into the valley of her breasts. She felt her nipples harden and her legs quiver in the presence of this stranger. His hair was dark, slicked back, shiny. It suited him. And this was vital to her, since she was going to have to distract this man long enough to get the royal cup out of here without any problems.

"I'm sorry. I must've gotten lost. Would you mind showing me out?" she said, her voice breaking into husky syllables.

He smirked as his dark eyes traveled down her body, and then back up to her eyes. He titled his head to the side slightly and stepped closer to her, his nose pressing into her cheek softly then down to her neck. He chuckled and the throbbing between her legs got worse. She swallowed hard.

"You smell of fear and sins. I've missed you, Isis," he said, his smirk making it difficult for her to form words. Claire looked at the stranger, and realized he was confusing her with someone else.

"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else, I..."

His mouth found hers before she had a chance to finish her sentence.

His tongue felt warm and tasted like something she'd never experienced before. His lips felt like... home. Claire found her will diminished as her hands made their way under his shirt and up the warmth of his skin, his stomach, his chest. He was strong. He had an astounding sense of power within. Claire felt it radiating through him. She wanted to touch more. Her hands lowered into his pantaloons and her fingers found him fully erect and throbbing beneath her touch. His lips broke away from hers as he gasped against her neck, his tongue placing soft kisses against her skin. Her hand stroked him slowly, a hungry moan escaping his lips with each movement she made.

"You will be the death of me, my love." His affections felt oddly satisfying but Claire had other plans for her seduction. She needed to get out of here, but not before she had a taste of this man, and not before she had that cup in her hands again. Her fingers found his slick tip and her thumb began to rub it. From what she could tell, he was moderately long and thick. Claire felt herself thirsty for his lips again. As if he were reading her mind, the stranger placed his swollen lips against hers, his teeth biting softly on her bottom lip, sending shock waves of pleasure through her. His hands made their way underneath her shirt. Not in a forceful way, but with tenderness, as if he'd done this before. To her.

Claire moaned deeply when his hands gripped her breasts. He squeezed them gently at first, his thumbs circling her hardened peaks. His touch got more aggressive as her hands began to stroke faster. His tongue wrestled with hers as she felt his hand leave her breast and make its way down into her pants and her shoes. She whimpered softly when she felt his fingers open her wet folds softly, his fingertips teasing her to the point of madness. She wanted him with an intensity she couldn't put into words. He pulled his pantaloons down along with her jeans and teased her opening with the tip of his throbbing member. He wasn't even inside her yet and she felt herself on the brink of her climax.

The stranger pressed into her, his body framing her curves. His hands pinned hers above her head as he ravished her lips hungrily. She moaned when she felt his hands grip her hips and she screamed internally. She was finally going to feel him inside her. But the stranger had other plans for her. He kissed down her body, his hand leaving her hip as he knelt down in front of her, placing her leg over his shoulder. His lips against the skin of her inner thigh made her knees grow weak and powerless. She felt the tip of his tongue tease her opening, and then she let out a whimpering cry as his tongue dipped inside her. Claire felt herself lose her mind. Her hands gripped his dark hair as he licked profusely, then began to suck gently. He drank from her as if he had done it a thousand times before. There was something about this man, this stranger. He didn't feel like a stranger at all. But Claire couldn't think about that right now. She couldn't think about much of anything when she felt his fingers dip inside and slide in and out as his tongue flicked at her rapidly.

"Oh, my god," she said in between gasps.

He let her leg down from his shoulders and stood up, placing her weak legs around his waist as he picked her up and thrusted into her, her back hitting the wall. She groaned loudly when she felt him deep inside her. Her walls surrounded his thickness perfectly. With every thrust, she contracted, and she felt him growing bigger. Her nails scratched at his muscular and tight back, full of sweat. His breath felt hot and his moans increased her pleasure as he pressed his lips into her ear. Claire circled her hips, his erection hitting every inch of her slick walls. Their moans grew louder and louder as he pumped into her, and her thighs tightened around him. They cried out together, still thrusting, skin against skin, his lips pressed into her forehead. He placed a soft kiss there and her heart exploded. She smiled as she looked up into his mysterious dark eyes. His eyes softened as he smiled as well, his finger tracing her swollen lips.

"Remember me..." he said, his voice raspy with desire, and deep with longing. "Remember me when you lay in bed at night and there's no one beside you to keep you company."

Claire smiled as he leaned down to kiss her one last time. And just like that, she no longer felt him on her, and she felt an overwhelming sadness consume her. She opened her eyes, and she saw no one else in the room. Her eyes looked down at her untouched but dirty clothes. They were still intact, as if no one had touched her or had taken them off. Her eyes made their way to the royal cup which still stood on the cup holder. Her hands touched the cup once again and memories flooded through her mind. Images of the stranger, who had brought her so much pleasure, was inside these images, and he was wearing the clothes of the Pharaoh Osiris. And laying naked next to him was his lover, and future wife, Isis. The resemblance she had to her was uncanny. Same light brown skin, dark and long straight hair. Same onyx-colored, exotic eyes she claimed as her own. She smiled as she watched him take off his clothes, piece by piece. The images stopped and Claire smiled. She placed the artifact back into its container and looked around the room, closing her eyes at the memory of her pharaoh.

"I'll remember you, my king."