The Truth About Scorpios (c) Copyright, Maria Lyonesse, 2001


The first thing Rhianna did after unpacking was to head for the hotel bar. It had been an exhausting drive up from London. The least the company could do was to turn a blind eye to a few extras on her expense account.

The place was more crowded than she'd expected it be. Her delegates weren't due to arrive until the following morning. But the room was filled with unfamiliar faces and bodies in vivid, unconventional clothes.

As she stood waiting at the bar, she gradually became aware of the man standing with his back to her. The dark hair was almost shoulder length but she was sure it was a man. The narrowness of the tight hips that lurked under the bright, baggy patchwork trousers so maddeningly close to hers, the faintest brush could seem like an accident . . . Rhianna drew breath sharply. Never before had she felt that reckless stab of desire for a total stranger.

And then he turned to look at her. Coolly and directly as if he knew she'd been watching him. The blue of his eyes was pure acetylene. Then a slight smile played on his lips and he turned away again.

"Excuse me," she began uncertainly. "You're not one of the people on my marketing seminar, are you?"

He turned and smiled curiously at her again. As she waited for his answer, a peculiar scent seemed to loosen itself from his clothes and seek her out. Subtle, spicy, exotic, a world away from the expensive, cloying aftershave of men she mixed with every day. Vaguely, she thought it must be incense. She took a deep, deep breath as the scent swarmed into her, tingling in her  nostrils and quickening her pulse as it went. She'd never imagined that even the lungs could be an erogenous zone.

"No," he replied eventually. "I'm here for an astrologers' symposium. I'm afraid we seem to have double-booked the same set of conference rooms."

She should have been irritated. Instead she felt intrigued.

"Next you're going to tell me it was due to 'unforeseen circumstances', I suppose."

He laughed softly. He didn't seem the least bit defensive about her dig.

"I'll bet you're a Pisces," he said decisively.

"Actually, I am. But no jokes about cold fish, please. I've heard them all before."

"As if." He reached for her hand, ram-raiding the conventions of personal space.

As he picked it up, he peered intently at it, running his fingertips over the lines on her palm. "After all, I'm a Scorpio. Scorpio and Pisces are supposed to get on. And anyway," he added, tracing the swelling at the base of her thumb, "I'll bet you're not a cold fish. Did you know you've got a very prominent Mount of Venus? That means either you're in love - or you're going to be."

The circling fingertips, brushing like the lightest kiss, had moved to her wrist now. As they carried on down the smooth, tender skin on the inside of her forearm, she felt intoxicating waves of energy shoot up her arm. This was a lovers' place: a touch that owed nothing to coercion and everything to consent. The energy swept deeper into her body, drawing her nipples into tight, almost painful knots against the silkiness of her dress. She was sure he couldn't help but notice their prominence. His sensually curving smile told her he just might.

"Fascinating," she breathed. "Can you tell me more about this mystery man who's due to cross my path?"

He grinned roguishly and curled his fingers around hers to close them up.

"I'm not much of a palm reader," he confessed. "Not my specialty. I could always draw you up a personal horoscope. But I'd need to know more about you - much more. And my star charts, of course . . . "

" . . . are in your bedroom."

"Naturally."

"How did I know you were going to say that?"

"Must be because we're already on the same wavelength," he replied.

He raised one eyebrow casually. It was almost like the challenge of a childhood friend tempting her to come out and play when it was long past time for bed. But the impish light in those bright blue eyes was anything but innocent. Before their intensity, she felt as if the flimsy dress should be melting away. Crazily, all thoughts were driven from her head except the overpowering need to make love to this stranger.

"I'm not busy at the moment," she whispered.

It wasn't the truth. There were room plans to reorganize and agendas to draw up but that all belonged to tomorrow. His fingers, still curled around hers, grounded her relentlessly in the here and now.

"Nor am I," he replied quietly and without letting go of her hand he led her towards the stairs.


"I don't even know your name," she murmured as he closed the door behind them.

Half of her hoped he wouldn't answer - as if naming him would break a spell.

"Liam," he replied slowly, his tongue lingering seductively on the 'L'. "And you?"

"Rhianna," she whispered.

He'd been about to light the first of many candles placed around the room. He paused and smiled.

"I knew you'd have a magical name," he said. "It suits you."

One by one, he lit the other candles. Their light seemed to draw in the walls of the tasteful but anonymous hotel room as if about to share a secret.

"You're tense," he stated. "I can't work with a tense subject."

"I've had a bitch of a day," she explained uneasily.

He smiled again and guided her towards the bed. As she sank bewildered but willingly down onto it, he slipped off her high-heeled shoes and cradled one small foot in both hands.

"I've never known this to fail," he said confidently. "Specially with a Pisces. Now, try to relax . . . "

Rhianna closed her eyes. Liam's long fingers swept expertly over her nylon-sheer feet. Ripples of sensation were born between her toes, swimming up through her legs and colliding savagely in the hot, yearning bud of her clitoris. Involuntarily, she let her thighs roll open. Blood was rushing to the warm, sweet ache that was taking hold of her vagina, burrowing deep into her body. She longed for him to glide his hands higher than her ankles, sweep up her legs, tenderly part her thighs and gasp in delighted surprise when he saw how barely her flimsy French knickers were covering her sex.

Liam gave a deep chuckle under his breath.

"I should have known you'd like your feet being rubbed. Each star sign controls a part of the body - didn't you know that? Pisces rules the foot."

She half-opened her eyes and looked up at him. In the candlelight his face had a warm, animal glow.

"So what does Scorpio rule?" she challenged, knowing full well she'd once read it in a magazine.

"You'd have to aim a little higher," he replied mischievously.

With her free foot, she stroked his kneecap.

"Here?"

Liam shook his head.

"Even higher."

She drew her toes very slowly up his thigh. Already, a significant bulge was growing beneath the soft pleats of material. As she ran the sole of her foot along it, it stirred even more.

"Here?"

"Oh Rhianna," Liam gasped and closed his eyes. "Don't tease, I'm - "

"Who said anything about teasing?"

She sat up suddenly and buried her hands in his dark, silky hair. Their mouths sought each other urgently in a deep, penetrating kiss. The roughness of his snaking tongue was like a promise of how fully and eagerly another part of his body was longing to sink itself deep in hers.

"Liam," she pleaded. "I want you. I mean it. Please . . . "

He toppled gently down beside her on the narrow bed. Her hands were frantic with the buttons on his soft, cotton shirt. Beneath was a scattering of dark, crinkly hair across his upper chest and below, where his pale stomach caved away beneath his ribs, the smooth skin was at once taut and vulnerable. She ran her palms across these fascinating, new-found contrasts. A luxurious quandary: her hands longed to play in this garden of sensation but the hot, hungry pounding between her legs urged her on.

Tenderly Liam unloosed the very few buttons that kept her silky dress from sliding away. He smiled appreciatively at the laciness of the scant underwear beneath. Impatiently he set free her breasts from their wispy, deep-plunge prison. With one hand he squeezed her breast into an ecstatic peak, flickering his teasing tongue round and round the pouting nipple as Rhianna dropped her head back and moaned.

His other hand eased her flimsy French knickers down over the lace-trimmed tops of her stockings. He grinned as he traced a forefinger over the lines of her suspender belt.

"Let's leave these on, eh?" he whispered. "I've always loved the way they frame everything, leaving the best part of all exposed . . . "

And, with that, his inquiring finger slipped through the springy forest of her pubic hair and lovingly probed the moist, darkening lips of her vagina.

The time had come, Rhianna decided: the moment she'd been putting off because so often anticipation was the sweetest part. Time to find out how well the sign of Scorpio lived up to its notoriety.

She fumbled with the catch on his trousers. Then it sprang open as if pressed out by the urgency behind. Joyfully she eased down his boxer shorts and his straining erection trembled before her.

It was so very beautiful; she held her breath. If creation had smiled on Scorpio then the laws of nature had put in especially long and loving hours here. As his cock quivered before her it positively begged to be touched. Her lips and hands hungrily encased its warm, velvety length until Liam groaned and shuddered and begged her to stop before he came.

He rolled the glistening tip of his glans between her breasts, gliding it moistly down her body and she spread her legs wide to welcome him. But Liam continued lower - down until his face was level with her dark, fragrant triangle of pubic hair. His quick breath kissed her inner thighs. For a moment Rhianna panicked: no man had ever done this to her before - she felt vulnerable, exposed. But as his willing tongue dipped into her, making her liquid with desire, she felt a deep, deep joy. Here at last was a man who accepted and celebrated every part of her.

He held her on a delicious knife-edge: easing her towards orgasm with his skillfully snaking tongue then gliding it out again and drawing her back from the brink. And when finally he mounted her fully, his trembling erection was as firm as ever as he plunged into her.

Liam seemed to fill her as no man had ever done before. His thrusting was wild and out of control but it didn't matter. His tongue had brought her so close to the edge of orgasm that she tumbled blissfully into it. A blossoming wave engulfed her aching vagina and the muscles convulsed greedily around his cock, thrilled to have something so sure and hard to center their ecstasy around.

Rhianna lay there gasping with pleasure as Liam continued thrusting towards his own climax which must surely now be only moments away. She loved the intimate caress, prolonging the golden glow that went deep between her hips; she didn't want it to end. Then suddenly his penis seemed to swell even bigger and kick inside her as he reached his own gasping, molten orgasm, filling her with his hot, abundant seed.

As he got his breath back, Liam propped himself up on one shoulder and they gazed silently into each other's eyes. The steely blue wasn't so much roguish now as desperately sincere.

"I really felt you come," she whispered, awe-struck. "It felt like an explosion."

"You don't say," he chuckled. "Well, have I answered your questions about the mystery man who's going to cross your path?"

"Yes, Liam. Even without star charts, I think you have!"

Ends