Love in the Wild: A Tarzan Retelling

by Emma Castle

  Thorne rushed toward Eden and grabbed her hand, pulling her as they ran back into the jungle. It was only then as she fell in step behind him that she saw the slashes across his back from the lion’s claws. Thorne was bleeding.

  “Wait, you’re hurt.” She tried to pull them to a halt, but he was too strong.

  “Must keep going. Lion is not dead.” Thorne continued to jog through the jungle with her at his back. He didn’t stop until they reached the waterfall close to his tree house. Only then did he pause at the edge of the falls, breathing hard. He still held her hand and finally looked down at her.

  “Come into the water with me.”

  The more time she spent near him, the more she felt her instincts sharpening. If she came into the water with him and let her adrenaline and her heart rule her, she would make a choice that could not be undone.

  Yet this choice had been decided long ago, before she’d ever set foot in Africa. From the first moment she’d seen the solemn faces of the gorillas in a zoo as a child, she’d been set on this path. She’d never given much thought to fate or destiny—until now.

  Eden pulled her hand free of his and knelt to remove her boots and socks. Thorne unfastened his deerskin loincloth and let it fall to the ground before he set his crown next to it. Then he walked into the water and stopped when he was chest-deep. He had his back to her. The blood from the lion’s claw marks drifted down into the pool, but they didn’t seem that deep. Eden removed her clothes and waded into the pool behind him until she was neck-deep in the cold water. As if sensing she was ready, Thorne turned around and moved closer to her.

  “You are safe,” he said softly. “I will always protect you.” He cupped her face in his large, strong palms as he gazed into her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you kill the lion?” she asked. She was glad he hadn’t, but she would have understood if he’d needed to.

  “I kill when there is no escape. Today I could escape. All life has a purpose. All creatures have a purpose. From ants to elephants, we all belong here, we all fight to survive. If I can save a lion’s life, I will. He will find food elsewhere. I do not hate the lion because it hunts. We do what we must to survive.”

  Eden trembled as a chill traveled across her skin.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A little.” She moved in closer to him, and his focus drifted from her face down to her naked body.

  Eden put a hand on his chest and stroked the hard-muscled front of his body.

  “I like when you touch me,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “No one except Keza or Akika has touched me with love, and not like this.”

  Eden swallowed hard. She wanted to show this beautiful, kindhearted, brave man what it meant to be loved, to be cherished. In that moment she made her decision.

  “Touch me, Thorne.”

  She curled her fingers around his wrist. His hand moved down to her neck, his fingers gentle as he touched the hollow of her throat with one thumb. Then he ran the backs of his fingers over her collarbone. His lips parted as his hand moved below the water to cup one breast. His eyes were full of fire and innocence, a mix that called to every part of her.

  “You are beautiful,” he said. His voice held a roughness that heightened her excitement that much more. What would he be like when he lost control and took her with his primal roughness? She shivered at the thought, but it was one of those deliciously good shivers.

  “Take me to the cave behind the falls,” Eden said.

  She had made her choice. She would show him what it meant to make love, and she vowed she would have no regrets about it. Not here. Not with him.

  8

  Thorne’s heart pounded wildly as he and Eden swam toward the rock ledge that would lead them behind the falls. He wanted to nest, to build her a proper spot for whatever came next, but he was too nervous to focus on anything except getting behind the curtain of water.

  He climbed in first and turned to help her up. The light hit her body, baring her to him, and his heart stopped. She was exquisite, beauty beyond words. Her breasts were full and soft, her nipples a lovely dark-rose color that made his body stiffen all over. The full flare of her womanly hips, so different from his own, called for his hands to touch. He wanted to feel her body pressed to his, feel their skin touching everywhere at once.

  Eden stood up on her toes and kissed his parted lips. The heat of her in his arms was so unexpected and wonderful that he sighed against her mouth.

  Thorne wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bottom. She moaned against his lips, and her breasts rubbed against his chest. His cock was hard—too hard. It was actually painful. He pulled away, ashamed. Maybe something was wrong with him.

  “What’s the matter?” Eden asked.

  “I hurt,” he confessed with humiliation.

  Her hands stilled on his shoulders. “Your back?”

  “No, here.” He guided one of her hands down to his cock.

  “Oh . . .” She gently touched him, wrapping her hand around his shaft. “Sometimes there are good hurts, when mating.”

  She had said it. Mating. Had he proven to her that he was a worthy mate? His heart leapt with hope.

  “Thorne, I want you to mate with me. Do you know how?” Eden inquired.

  “Yes.” He stepped back. “Stay here.” He rushed deeper into the cave and collected a thick pallet of furs. He set them down near the lit entrance of the cave behind the falls, just out of reach of the spray of the water. He wanted to see her and not be lost in the darkness. He arranged the furs carefully, leaving the leopard skin on top since it was the softest. It would also show his prowess for defeating such a fierce predator. When he was done, he gestured for Eden to get on the fur nest. She knelt and then lay down on her back. He was confused at her position. He got down on his knees beside her and tried to roll her over so he would be behind her while she was on her hands and knees.

  “Not like that, at least not the first time,” she said. “Like this.”

  His gaze moved over her body to between her legs, and as she parted them, he stared at her feminine folds, which were a dark pink.

  “Lie on top of me. I’ll show you. There are many ways to mate—this is one way.” She held her arms out to him, and he crawled up her body, lying in between her bent thighs. She cradled him, held him gently. It felt good to have her soft, giving body beneath his own hard one.

  Eden coasted her palms up and down his arms, soothing him with soft murmurs before she slid one hand between them. He gasped as she touched his shaft. He lifted his hips as she guided him toward her. The instant he felt the wet heat of her body wrap around him, he sank into her, feeling a state of bliss he had never imagined possible. He gasped softly, the surprise of the sensations almost too much.

  “Oh God,” Eden whispered. “That feels incredible.”

  Thorne would have smiled, but he was too lost in the heaven that was Eden’s body. Instinct took over as he began to move, gently at first, learning the feel of her body beneath him, trying not to hurt her. It felt like home—she felt like home.

  As he grew in confidence, he thrust his hips deeper against hers and buried his face against her neck. She shuddered beneath him as a sharp cry escaped her lips. It was a beautiful sound of sweet surrender that drove him to the edge. He emptied himself in a wild rush of physical pleasure. He poured every part of himself, even his heart, into Eden. Drums beat inside his body, his heart pounding a wild rhythm he’d never heard before. He’d heard the distant drums of Bwanbale’s village once, during a celebration, but these were different. Thorne gasped for breath, his body shaking hard as Eden wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He collapsed on top of her. It took him a moment before he realized he might be crushing her. He rolled over, but he held her close so that she rolled with him and lay atop his body like a wonderful blanket of silky palm fronds.

  He gazed up at her, the roar of the falls now filling his ears again, and he couldn’t be
lieve how blessed he was to have her, to have a mate who had gifted him her trust.

  “Are you okay?” Eden asked. Her wet hair hung like liquid sunlight down her shoulders to touch his chest, tickling him in the most wonderful way.

  “Yes.” He was unable to say anything else. He felt complete—he felt whole—with his mate in his arms. Thorne touched her shoulders, then moved his hands down her back, holding her close. He had never imagined being with a mate could be like this. The soft, sweet caresses, the touches that were welcomed rather than snarled at, embraced rather than fought against.

  He finally found the words to ask what seemed like a vital question. “Are you okay?”

  “It was incredible.” Eden rested her chin on his chest, and he saw the waterfall reflected in her green eyes. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight.

  “So . . . Your first time?”

  Thorne smiled and brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek. “It was incredible,” he echoed. He really liked that word. It was fitting for anything that had to do with Eden.

  “Everything you hoped for?”

  Thorne nodded. His body was relaxed. Perhaps he would be ready to mate with her again soon, if she wanted him to. But as much as he wanted to keep her in this secret cave forever, they would have to leave eventually.

  “I’m honored to have shared this with you.” Eden moved up his body to kiss his chin, then his mouth and the top of his nose.

  He sighed as she kissed his closed eyelids. Her lips were gentle and soft, and wherever she put her mouth his skin burned in the most enticing way.

  “I am honored too.” He cupped the back of her head and held her face to his for a long, deep kiss. He liked this kissing, liked tasting Eden’s sweetness—especially after she had eaten mangoes. Kissing was something the animals in his world didn’t do. They didn’t share such intimacy. Whenever he kissed Eden, he felt his bond with her grow stronger.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She kissed him one more time before nodding.

  He helped her up from the bed of furs, and they splashed back into the pool. Eden was calmer now, less shy with her body as she swam naked ahead of him. Thorne caught her waist, pulling her back to him. She giggled and wriggled in his arms like a slippery fish, but he held fast as he kissed her neck from behind. Her breasts filled his hands as he held her, and she arched against him, her rounded bottom rubbing against his hardening shaft.

  He didn’t ask this time. By the way she was moaning and rubbing against him, he knew that she wanted him. He turned her to face him so that they stood chest-deep in the water, and he lifted her up against him. Her skin was flushed, her eyes wide, lips parted, and all he could think about was feeling her, tasting her. Ripe mangoes and crisp waterfalls. For a second they simply stared at each other as his grip on her waist tightened and her nails dug into his biceps in silent invitation.

  A growl came from the back of Thorne’s throat, a deep sound of domination as he lifted her up against him. Her body opened around his, her legs curling tight around his hips. He gripped his cock, feeding himself into her as she had shown him. She clutched his shoulders, her green eyes dark like the jungle just before twilight. He ignored the sting of the lion’s claw marks. The bite of that pain somehow only heightened his pleasure in this moment—as though by protecting her, he’d won the right to mate with her.

  Thorne thrust deep, claiming her in slow, measured movements, enjoying how she responded with soft moans that escaped her throat. Wet skin against wet skin, heated friction built between them, quivering and shivering. Breath broke, hearts raced, and fingers clawed at skin. He fisted a hand in her hair, and she raked nails down his back as he took her rough, took her raw. Harsh and beautiful. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as he lifted her up and down over his body. Eden buried her face against his neck, clinging to him as she cried out in his arms. The sweetest pleasure exploded through him as he came a heartbeat later. For the first time, he felt . . . complete. To know the companionship and physical love of a mate, just like this.

  His body trembled with the slow, sweet fall into that blissful state that seemed to come when he and Eden mated.

  In that moment of joy, he hoped that they had created a new life between them. He longed to have his own son or daughter, and now that Eden was his mate, that dream seemed possible.

  They lingered in the water, their limbs tangled and breaths shared as they recovered. Her legs stayed wrapped around his body, her fingers were still dug tightly into him as if she too didn’t wish to let go. Life was ever a battle of clinging with desperation and letting go with longing. It was a lesson of the jungle, one he’d learned so often, but never so bittersweetly as he did now while holding Eden in his arms. He wanted to mate with her forever, and yet he feared the moment that it was over, because then it would be one second closer to when he would lose what he was beginning to love more than anything else.

  Cold water drizzled across their bodies from the nearby falls, chilling their heated skin. Eden finally relaxed; her legs slid down off his hips, and her grip on him eased, but she didn’t let go. Sweat still clung to their skin, and he playfully dipped them both beneath the surface of the water. Her trust in him, so instinctive now, made him want to roar with leonine pride.

  All around them the jungle was quiet, and a stillness settled over the world as birds sang soft symphonies against the crash of water into the pool. There were no warnings in the air. All was well in the jungle tonight. He could rest easy.

  When they finally exited the pool, dripping and smiling, Thorne enjoyed watching Eden put on her strange skins. He memorized everything about her body. She belonged to him now, just as he belonged to her. Yet part of him knew it could not be that easy. The world of men was nothing if not complicated.

  “Thorne, how did you learn English? Is it what you remember from your parents?”

  “A little.” He pulled his deerskin loincloth back onto his body and tied the leather straps in place. “More comes from Bwanbale.”

  “Bwanbale?” Eden repeated. “What’s a Bwanbale?”

  “He is human. A male. He is my friend.”

  Eden’s eyes brightened with interest. “A human?”

  “Yes. Enemy first, then friend later.”

  Thorne did his best to explain his first sighting of a human since he’d been rescued by Keza, and how Bwanbale had stayed with him for a time in the jungle before returning to his village, which was half a day away on foot. Many times Bwanbale had come back to visit him, meeting him in the savanna meadow where Thorne had shown Eden Tembo.

  “So by the time you met him, you were around twenty years old.”

  Thorne shrugged. Time didn’t seem to matter here in the humid evergreen jungle.

  “He taught you English?”

  Thorne nodded. “English and Swahili.” They began the walk back through the jungle toward the mango trees.

  “Wait, you know Swahili? Then why didn’t you respond when we first met? I was speaking Swahili then.”

  His face flooded with heat. “I was scared to speak.”

  “You’ve come pretty far in the last couple of days.”

  Her praise filled him with pride. “I remember more of how my parents used to talk. The more you speak, the more I remember.”

  “That’s a good thing.” Eden rested one hand on her bag, which held what she called her camera, the object that took pictures.

  “Tell me more about Bwanbale.”

  “He lives in a village with his mate and a child. I have not seen them, but he’s told me many stories of them.” He shared with Eden as much as he could remember of the world Bwanbale had described all those years ago. Then it had seemed like Bwanbale’s stories were too impossible to be true. He also told her about the way Bwanbale had showed him how to use tools to refine his home, to make cups, and other things.

  Eden climbed over a fallen tree with his help. “Are there a lot of poachers here in the jungle?”

>   “Many, but south. Not here.”

  “Do you think the men who . . .” Eden’s voice trembled, and her hand tightened around his. “The men who killed everyone were poachers?”

  “Yes. Or men who look for gold,” he added, thinking of the men who had brutally murdered his parents. Those men had been looking for gold. Eden had explained the value of it to him, how men and women for thousands of years had placed immense value on the shiny hard metal. Thorne thought it was madness to care for such a thing. One could not eat it or use it as a weapon or for shelter. It served no purpose. And yet it called to him as well. He had brought some of it to his home, had copied the symbols he’d seen onto his walls. The past spoke to him, cried out to him sometimes.

  He knew that the people who often came to him in his dreams—the ones where he saw other humans, ancient ones, building homes in the trees—were the ones who’d made the gold and who’d found the glittering stones. Diamonds, as Eden had called them. Whatever belonged in the cave belonged to those long-gone spirits who spoke to Thorne. He and Bwanbale had spoken once of the gold and the cave, and Bwanbale had said that it must be kept secret, it must be respected.

  Eden was silent a long moment. “Thorne, we have to find the police. Tell them what happened. The people who died, the other tourists like me, they have families who need to know what happened.”

  Thorne didn’t immediately respond. Every time she brought the subject up, it filled him with fear. If she left the jungle, she would leave him.

  “We can’t leave them there.” Eden tugged on his hand, and he turned to face her. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “You will stay . . . if I do this?”

  “Stay with you?” Her tone was full of uncertainty.