Sekhemkhet's Promise Pt. 04

Hello again! I hope everyone is doing well during these troubling times. Just a very quick foreword:

This is the second to last chapter of Sekhemkhet. It's unlikely that the next chapter will include any erotic scenes; it's just something to round out the story and give you a bit of closure. So, get your kicks while you can ;)

As always, please leave a comment, I love to hear from you! I hope that this can distract you a bit from everything going on and I promise to upload the next chapter asap!

- Chicklicks xoxox

************

Anabeth gasped in delight as she arched her back, accepting the punishing rhythm with which Sekhemkhet was taking her.

She was on all fours in the middle of her vast bed, the sheets tangled beneath her and gripped in her fists. It took all of her concentration not to scream in pleasure as his manhood pushed to the deepest parts of her.

Sekhemkhet's hands grasped her hips so tightly that she would be surprised if she didn't bruise. What she wouldn't have given for a large mirror in front of them -- to see his expressions as he lost himself in her heat.

She heard him growl as he sped up, his balls slapping against Beth's clitoris with rapid succession. Anabeth could not help herself now, as the moans fell unbidden from her lips. The stimulation of her clit, the push and drag of his cock inside her, the feeling of his strong thighs against her soft skin -- it was all too much.

Anabeth cried loudly into the room, her pussy spasming around his cock as he continued to stretch her with each push. She continued to cry out, her eyes clenched shut tightly as her climax faded. Her knees gave way until she was lying flat with Sekhemkhet still on top of her, thrusting between her legs.

He began to erratically thrust as a roar escaped his throat like a battle cry as he spilled into her, his seed soaking her depths. Anabeth could not help the small cries of ecstasy that continued to mewl from her lips as he thrust gently a few more times before collapsing beside her.

Anabeth could not speak. Sekhemkhet's hand came to rest of her head, gently stroking her hair back from her face.

She felt him kiss her forehead before she slipped effortlessly into a golden-dreamed slumber.

************

The morning softly illuminated the room; the bright white sheets reflecting the light. Anabeth was so comfortable, and yet she already knew Sekhemkhet was no longer there. Rolling to her left she was proven right by the large expanse of empty bed. The sheets looked as if they had never been slept in.

Beth relaxed into her pillow, thinking about her life. Sekhemkhet had visited her last night, as he had every other night since she had moved to this new villa a few weeks ago. She could hardly believe it had already been two weeks. Her mornings consisted of research into the origins of the artefacts now on display, her afternoons packed with greeting foreign visitors at the museum and detailing the excavation, then leading tours around the exhibit. In her evenings, Beth held dinners for British couples, and on occasion their children, drinking and enjoying their tales of travel.

Anabeth had met so many travellers, she felt as though she had heard the secrets of every country in the world. Men and women -- usually couples, though sometimes just companions -- who had visited South Africa, Japan, India, and Argentina. They told her of the people, the languages, the treasures, and the customs, regaling her with tales of such foreign ideas that Beth often lost track of time, still sitting at the dinner table until after ten at night.

The nights, though, were when Beth was happiest. When Sekhemkhet came to her room and made love to her, opening her up and spreading her like a feast -- licking and sucking and tasting her in new ways that always left her flushed and delighted. Beth had learned to taste him, too. She would tease him mercilessly, taking his manhood as far down her throat as possible, until he growled and rolled himself over, pushing into her from behind.

The completion she felt when they finished their liaisons was so wonderful that it almost rectified the fact that he was never there otherwise. Almost.

In honesty, Anabeth wasn't sure what she felt. She had never been in love and she had so little in the way of reference. She had never been one to read romantic stories and she had no real friends who could tell her of their experience. She supposed her parents were in love in their own sort of way, but it wasn't something that she had ever asked about.

The lust was real, she was sure of that. She knew she couldn't get enough of him touching her and making her clench in pleasure but beyond that she wasn't sure if there was anything. Was it possible to love a man who you didn't know? Who was never there when she woke up?

He claimed he wanted her to be his Queen -- to rule by his side at the head of this great country.

But what sort of a life would that really be? She wondered.

These were the thoughts that plagued her mind in the quiet moments of her days.

This is why I keep busy, Anabeth reminded herself, pulling the sheets off of her naked body and rising for the day.

************

The day started as any other -- Beth dressed in a loose white shirt and long blue skirt before having breakfast by herself and reading the newspaper that was waiting for her at the table. She had a staff in her house, paid for by the museum, though Beth would never have questioned where the money came from anyway.

Mr Banks walked Anabeth to the museum -- it was very close to her villa, just a ten-minute walk, and Beth loved the feeling of the fresh air. She was unused to such a hot climate but found that the mornings suited her well.

He walked Anabeth to the front entrance of the building but did not stay at the museum during the day. Anabeth's father had given him several tasks to complete once he had learned that they were staying in Egypt. As far as Beth was aware, Mr Banks acted as a sort of spy for her father. He sat in on meetings and relayed information to Edward, while keeping a close eye on Anabeth. No longer was he there to ensure that Beth didn't lay claim to their find -- that peril had long gone. Instead he made sure that she didn't find herself in any other trouble. As Mr Banks had shown her -- her father's letter stated that he didn't want her 'running off with some God-awful foreigner and bring disgrace on the family.'

Anabeth smiled at the security guards she passed on her way inside. She had been allocated an office for her own personal use. The room was small but Anabeth was in love with it. She had her own desk and had already filled the drawers with notes she had made. She had a typewriter to one side of the desk, which she particularly enjoyed using. She had never had cause to use one before and, on more than one occasion, had gone home with ink staining the front of her dress, but it was worth it.

The clock on her desk told her it was 9am. She usually worked until noon, researching anything that she was interested in. At the moment she was still thrilled with the ancient Egyptians, but she knew that soon she would long for a new challenge. She was trying to become an expert in this field so that when she gave tours of the exhibit there would be no question that she could not answer. Though, to be realistic, when she gave tours people mostly just wanted to talk to her about the excavation process -- how did her father find it? What was he doing now? And, her most asked question, why was she here?

Anabeth picked up the book she had begun yesterday and started to take notes by hand.

Eliza, a young British girl whose father worked in the museum, came in to put a stack of documents on Anabeth's desk at about 11am. Eliza was a sweet girl and Beth had realised that she had an avid interest in history. Her mother had passed away when she was young and so instead of spending her days with a governess, her father brought her with him, giving her odd tasks to complete. She had taken a shining to Beth and dealt with many of her requests.

Anabeth had given Eliza a list of articles which she would like to read regarding the state of affairs in Egypt at the moment -- something which Sekhemkhet had been thoroughly engrossed in. She so rarely saw him, but she wanted to be able to converse with him when she did. Not that they did much talking. The thought made Anabeth a little uneasy.

Beth smiled quickly in thanks, but Eliza hovered. "There's a gentleman here to see you, miss," Eliza told her. When Beth looked at the girl, she saw that her eyes were sparkling with mischief. "A very handsome gentleman."

Anabeth supressed a smile. Eliza was a quiet girl; she had learned that much. He must really be something to make her comment. "Did he give a name?"

"Yes, miss. Mr William Egerton. He's waiting for you in the entrance hall," Eliza turned to go, but hesitated again at the door. "He seemed quite eager, if you don't mind me saying so."

At this Anabeth laughed and put down her book. "Well then," she grinned at Eliza conspiratorially, "best not keep him waiting."

Beth spotted him as soon as she came out of her office. He was sitting on a bench in the entranceway to the main exhibit, dressed in a beige suit. He had a flat-cap with him, which was odd for someone of his standing, but then Beth couldn't imagine him being the top-hat type. The cap was resting on a bust of Princess Amarna, though her oblong head shape made it look very odd. He was fiddling with something -- a piece of paper, she thought, and didn't notice her approaching him.

"You know, I don't think that Princess Amarna suits your hat," Anabeth said quietly, startling William slightly. He smiled when he saw her, though, and put whatever the paper was into his coat pocket. "Then again, I didn't know her personally. Perhaps she likes it."

"Miss Brightbury," William stood and took her hand, kissing her knuckles gently.

"Mr Egerton," she greeted him, smiling. He really was as handsome as she remembered.

"Please, call me William."

"Of course," she nodded. "And you must call me Beth. To what do I owe the pleasure, William?"

"I'm your client for the day," he grinned, picking up his hat from the head of the bust.

Anabeth's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You are?"

William nodded. "I didn't get a good look at the exhibit the other night. I was distracted by someone." He winked at Beth and she felt her cheeks flush. It was a silly gesture and yet she felt a little flutter in her stomach.

It's just the accent, she reasoned. A handsome man with a nice voice is flattering you and you're reacting. That's all.

"Well then," Anabeth struggled to find a witty remark to reply with. After a second, she gave up and turned to walk to the start of the exhibit. "Keep up," she called over her shoulder, and he followed her into the great hall.

The way that the exhibit was set up meant that Anabeth would begin with the smaller pieces -- cutlery, plates, small boxes and the less extravagant jewels -- before working her way up to the incredible treasures that had been uncovered. Rare jewels, massive in scale; statues of Gods left entirely intact; woven tapestries which had to be gently cleansed of the dust and sand which had hidden the beautiful colours. And, of course, Sekhemkhet's sarcophagus. It stood in its own room inside a glass case, surrounded by a red velvet rope. The room was mildly busy with tourists, but Anabeth managed to get William a good view.

"So, who was this guy, anyway?" William asked, nodding his head forward towards the sarcophagus. He was standing with his arms crossed, just a few inches from Anabeth. She couldn't help but notice how tall he was. How large his hands were -- the right one was dangling just under his elbow. It was tanned and she could see the veins, even in the dimly lit room. Just a little bit of his arm hair poked out of his shirt sleeve, under his jacket . . .

Anabeth's musings were interrupted by a discreet cough. She looked up and found William smirking slightly, his eyebrow raised at her. Instantly her face turned red and she turned to face the sarcophagus. Her stomach tightened with butterflies. Lord, she was embarrassed.

"Well," Anabeth cleared her own throat, willing her voice to work. "As I said at the beginning, Sekhemkhet was a pharaoh. We found his tomb-"

"No, I mean who was he? How come he wasn't given a huge pyramid like his daddy?" William asked, still smiling down at her.

"He was in love with his father's wife, Henutsen, and they were caught together," Beth explained. She had only been asked this question a few times. Usually people were happy enough to just look at the displays and move on. "She was executed for being unfaithful to her husband and Sekhemkhet couldn't save her. He died quite young and the tomb was unfinished. His brother succeeded him as Pharaoh and refused to complete the tomb, dooming Sekhemkhet to an afterlife with no rest. Then again, that's local legend so I don't know," Anabeth shrugged, caught up in her tale. "And he won't talk about it."

William laughed, shaking his head. Anabeth's eyes widened. Had she really been that foolish? Not that it seemed to matter -- of course he had thought she was joking. His eyes crinkled up at the corners when he laughed.

If only he knew, Anabeth giggled a little as well. Once again, she was comforted by the realisation that she needn't worry about slipping up and revealing Sekhemkhet's true identity. No one would believe her.

William had already begun to walk back to the great hall and Anabeth followed him. Not for the first time she wondered why Sekhemkhet would not enlighten her as to his life, or death for that matter. He had refused to help her with the few notes that she made for the tour of the exhibit, no matter how trivial the piece. And when she had asked him if the legend was true, he had simply ignored her.

"It's simple," a smooth voice seeped from the darkened corner of the room. Anabeth turned her head just as Wadjet glided into the light. Looking around, Beth found the room empty, and William was too far ahead to notice that she was no longer following. "You should be remembering the details for yourself, by now. And you would be. If you were Henutsen," Wadjet smiled, moving to stand behind Anabeth. "But you are not."

"What do you want?" Anabeth bristled, her hackles rising. This wasn't on the agenda for today and she really didn't have the patience for this woman. Or Goddess. Whatever she was.

Anabeth had seen alley cats facing each other as though they were about to fight, hissing and growling at each other. It either ended in one walking away or a fight. And Beth knew she wouldn't win a fight against a Wadjet.

"I've told you before," Wadjet murmured, pulling a strand of hair away from Anabeth's ear and leaning in, whispering to her. "I want to protect you."

"I don't need to be protected," Anabeth whispered. Goosebumps had raised all down her arms at the feeling of Wadjet's lips barely grazing the shell of her ear. She could feel how full and soft they were. Amongst the apprehension, Beth could feel arousal.

"Oh, but you do, fatat saghira," Wadjet moved a hand down to clasp Anabeth's fingers. "Sekhemkhet is starting to realise you are not his Queen."

"How?"

Anabeth's hand was manipulated to hold onto the back of Wadjet's neck, so that Wadjet's fingers could run down her side, the tips bushing the side of her breast before grasping her waist.

"Because he needs a dynasty. An heir. A son. What he lacked in life he must produce in death to secure his hold on this world. Or he will be reclaimed by Osiris and sent to the realm of the dead, never to return." Anabeth gasped as Wadjet's hands spun her around. She faced the beautiful Goddess wide-eyed and afraid but determined to remain seemingly passive. "A human was not supposed to discover him. A human cannot carry his offspring. He needs Henutsen reincarnated."

"I don't understand," Anabeth frowned. If only Henutsen could bring him back, then how had she done it?

"Any virgin could bring him back. But it was supposed to be Henutsen. Hence his confusion." Wadjet began to step back from Anabeth, leaving her weak kneed and damp between the legs. "Humans are so fun to toy with," Wadjet grinned, revealing her perfect teeth, clearly aware of the effect that she had on Anabeth. She really was just like the snake that was used to represent her, Anabeth realised. Or a shark. "So easily manipulated. So . . . thamin."

"Wait!" Anabeth called, just as Wadjet seeped back into the darkness. "What am I supposed to do? How are you going to protect me?"

"All in good time, fatat saghira," a ghostly voice whispered to her. "It will become clear soon."

Anabeth had to stop herself from running from the room and back to the safety of the brightly lit great hall. William was standing at the foot of the stairs when she emerged.

"There you are," he smiled. "I thought I'd lost you for a moment."

"My apologies," Anabeth tried to smile in reply but there was simply too much on her mind. "I was distracted."

"Not at all," William came to her, offering his arm which she gladly took. "My fault for wandering off."

Anabeth walked with him through the hall to the front door. She had thought that she was simply seeing him out, but he kept a hold of her arm and pulled her with him through the doors and into the afternoon light.

"Where are we going?" Beth asked. The afternoon heat was not even at its worst and she could already feel herself beginning to perspire. It was so much easier in the marble and wood clad museum. It never seemed to get warm in there -- much more like home.

"I thought you might like to go on my tour now," William's eyes glittered mischievously. A car was waiting at the bottom of the steps for them, where a chauffeur opened the door.

"What tour?" Anabeth smiled a little. She was still shaken from her conversation with Wadjet, but she liked adventure, especially with particularly handsome men. Not that she had ever had such an experience, but she imagined it would be lovely.

"I have a feeling you've never been into Cairo before. Am I right?"

Anabeth thought about it for a second. She had stopped there for a moment when she had disembarked from the train from Alexandria but had quickly been moved into a carriage and taken to the Darnley's home (a place she did not miss).

"No, not really," she realised. How odd that she had been living her for so long and had not ventured into the city. But she supposed that was Mr Banks doing, especially after the way the men had treated her when she had stepped out of the train station alone.

William helped her up into the back seat of the car. "In that case," William pulled himself up into the seat beside her, waving off the help of the chauffeur, "I'm about to make your trip here a whole lot more interesting."

Anabeth grinned back at William as the driver climbed in and began the car. The sun was hot on her skin, she didn't have a hat or any of her belongings with her, and she was going to a strange city with a relative stranger. And yet she couldn't help the bubbles of excitement from rising in her stomach, forgetting the unearthly warning she had just received.

************

The streets were, in some ways, similar to those of London. The outcroppings in the higher story windows were almost Tudor style in their wooden structure and small windows. The streets were narrow and busy, with stone archways leading to closes in between buildings. The oil lamps were certainly the most obvious Colonial aspect of the streets. If she ignored the heat and dirt road, Anabeth could imagine she was in England. It surprised her how little she missed it.