Bound in Stone
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by Jay Di Meo
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Dark Fantasy
Description: Jason accidentally makes a blood offering to Liba, the ghost of a handsome Italian knight imprisoned in a marble statue. Only a virgin can free him, but Jason needs a little persuasion before accepting to be "possessed" by Liba. Will Jason give into his desires, and set both Liba and himself free?
eBook Publisher: Cobblestone Press, 2010
eBookwise Release Date: March 2011
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [30 KB]
Reading time: 15-21 min.
Jason shortened his stride, his hiking boots moving with barely a sound on the silky grass. The plain spread all around him, blanketed in white chamomile and yellow buttercup. Small villages slept here and there in the distance, and sheep grazed. He breathed in the scent of wildflowers and the tang of the sea that carried on the warm breeze.
Corfu. Old ruins and sun, as his friend Mario described it--a Greek island where the Venetians had ruled for hundreds of years, leaving behind elegant houses and musical names. Jason had arrived there the day before and had wandered the streets of the capital in a daze. But today, the crisp spring sunlight had lured him out of the town and into the countryside.
He stopped to catch his breath. He hadn't realized he'd walked that far. No hamlet or farm disturbed the landscape, no sound other than the chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects.
A hill rose steeply against the pastel-blue sky, dressed in white and yellow flowers, their scent swirling on the light wind. A path snaked up to white marble ruins that reflected the midday sun.
Jason frowned and pulled out his crumpled map. He spread it and located himself on it. No ruins were marked on this area. Odd. Could that mean that nobody had ever been here before? He knew it sounded stupid, but excitement rushed through him. He returned the map to his backpack. Then he grinned like a child.
Time to explore this unknown territory.
He scrambled up the steep trail, grasping at rocks and thorny bushes to keep from rolling back down, scratching his palms. Dusty and out of breath, hands stinging, he reached the summit. There he leaned on a twisted olive tree, listening to the song of the cicadas, waiting for his heartbeat to slow.
He took in the view. Below him, the island spread like a carpet floating in the azure sea, with its green central plain, its white towns, and its golden beaches with the dark shadows of moored boats.
Pulling out his water bottle, he took a long draught and poured the rest over his head, gasping at the splash of cold, and shaking his short dark hair. Still grinning, he turned around.
Fragments of mosaic floors peeked through green grass dotted with daisies, and piled stones marked the outline of ancient walls. The building had been small, probably a chapel. The apse still stood, though the altar was gone. Beneath the apse's semi-circular vault, a statue crouched. Intrigued, Jason stared at it. The posture was unusual for an old sculpture. How incredible that they would leave something like that to the mercy of the elements.
Jason approached to have a better look.
Made of milky marble, the likeness of a man faced Jason. His naked chest was magnificently muscled, like a classic Greek statue. Cinched with a round brooch, a fine textile fell over his legs, molding on sinewy thighs like second skin, draped in folds over his calves and feet.
The reaction of Jason's body was totally inappropriate. No, you don't, he told himself firmly as a certain part of him began to harden. This was what had almost cost him his friendship with Mario.
I must be desperate, to get hard just by looking at an old statue.
But the statue looked as if it had just been polished. No lichens marred its smooth surface, and no weeds crowded its base. The stone face of the man was lifelike. Long hair hung over one broad shoulder in gleaming tresses. Hands with long, strong fingers rested on his knees.
A very good-looking statue.
Fascinated, Jason took a step closer, noting more details--a star carved on the man's brow, a stray lock of hair falling on a smooth cheek, the clear line of that square jaw, the small, pert nipples.
Jason's breath caught. He thought he saw veins running along the statue's arms, pulsing beneath the polished stone surface where tiny crystals twinkled. Tendons stood out in the statue's throat, and its eyes seemed to blaze.
Gulping, Jason reached down to adjust his cargo shorts, easing his trapped erection. Sighing in relief, he stepped closer to the statue. A breath of warm wind blew past him, carrying low whispers, kissing his ears.
His stumbled, barely catching himself before he fell. Sharp pain shot up his leg. He looked down. Warm blood ran from a cut on his shin down into his white sock and hiking boot. Glancing behind, he saw a jagged stone jutting from the grass, probably all that remained from a wall.
Cursing, he limped to a round pillar base and sat on it. He stretched out his leg and leaned over to have a better look. The wound didn't look so bad, and the blood flow had almost stopped.
He sighed in relief. To find a doctor, he'd have to walk all the way back to the town.
A creaking and crashing brought him back to his feet, heart in his throat.
Jason's knees wobbled. Mario had said earthquakes were common in Greece. He stood there unsure of what to do. Going down the hill during a quake would be such a bad idea. He lurched to the center of the ruined chapel, holding his breath, all traces of his arousal washed away by fear.
Stones rolled loose from the walls and a cloud of dust lifted, making Jason cough. He stepped back.
The shaking stopped.
His boots crunched on pebbles, broken plaster and shards of red clay. He stared at them. An incense burner. It looked as though someone at some point had worshipped there, who knows what god or demon.
Jason jumped, and spun around. A man sat on a slab of grey stone, arms folded across his broad, naked chest. Long wisps of ebony hair framed a handsome face with eyes so dark they looked black. Emerging from the navy-blue folds of shimmering cloth, his long legs stretched before him, tanned and strong, gleaming like gold. "A fine day, or not?"
"Erm, yeah." The man seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. Jason could have sworn nobody else had been there with him moments ago. He squinted. Despite the bright sunlight, the stranger was in shadow, and his body glowed like a star. He stiffened with unease. "I didn't notice you before."
"No? How odd. Am I not worthy of your attention?" The stranger's full lips tilted in a brief smile.
Jason shifted his weight, unable to tear his gaze away. "No. Yes. I mean... Who are you?"
"Ah, where are my manners?" The man's dark eyes flashed. "I am Lidano Bassario Sirio Massimo da Trana." Lifting a hand, he rubbed at his straight nose. "Call me Liba."
"Liba?" So many names!
"Yes, that is my name. And you?"
"Jason," he stammered as Liba bent his head to his chest and long, black, silky hair covered his face. Jason had never seen such a luxurious mane on a man before.