Balfor returned to tasting her after his warning pause. His claws dug into the flesh on her upper thighs and she felt them puncture skin. It stung, but with what he was doing to her, she barely noticed the pain. Then he turned his head to lick the wounds, his tongue stroking over the soft skin of her thighs. After licking at the spots for a brief time, he returned his attention to her mound. His mouth fastened onto her clit and Stacia’s orgasm exploded over her immediately, being so primed by his tongue inside her.
She moaned again and arched her hips against him. He lifted his head and actually roared at her, baring menacing teeth. He grabbed her hips and pressed her back against the stone.
Stacia closed her eyes to shut out his monstrous appearance as the pulsing of her orgasm still throbbed inside her. If he was going to kill her, she didn’t want this creature that he’d become to be her last memory of him.
Despite her determination to remain still and silent, her body tensed for a fight when she felt him move. She kept her eyes closed, knowing that he’d positioned himself between her legs only because he’d grabbed her hips and lifted her up to press the head of his shaft against her slit.
He thrust into her like a rutting beast, pulling on her hips to sheathe himself deep inside. Though it hurt when he hit her womb, his wildness caused an answering feeling in her. As another orgasm built inside her, he pulled out long enough to flip her onto her stomach. Then he pulled her back towards him so she had to be on her hands and knees to satisfy him. She was ready for him this time when he impaled her with his shaft. Pain and pleasure blurred as he used her roughly. She felt his shaft tense, then pulse inside her as he spilled his seed, but he continued to thrust, even as he roared again with his release.
Stacia lost track of how long he took to sate himself. She’d orgasmed a second time, but after that, her knees hurt from the rock she kneeled on, her body ached from his pounding, and she began to worry that he would never tire. Balfor had a lot of stamina. She’d had yet to wear him out even when he was civilized and cultured. She had no idea what his primal was capable of, except for extreme violence which she didn’t want to incite in him.
So she endured, long after she was worn out, because any other response would be dangerous and she was here to help him. She’d suspected from Gorzo’s warnings that something like this might happen, and she’d accepted that this was what she’d need to do for Balfor. If she could save him, it would be worth it. She would even encourage him in the future to sometimes be rough like he was being now, because it had excited her, at least, until it started to exhaust her.
Balfor climaxed again, his seed spilling down her thighs as he filled her. Finally, he stopped thrusting and pulled out of her. He released her hips, allowing her to collapse to the cool rocky ground. Stacia laid there for a long moment just quivering with muscle failure and body aches.
Then Balfor leaned over her and started sniffing her again, this time on her back. His claws trailed over her spine, raising goosebumps. He scraped a little harder at her skin, and she bit her lip to keep her shout behind it as he scratched deep enough to cut her. It stung. Then he licked the cut, growled, and then started licking her back, moving up to her shoulder, then to her neck. His hot breath was on her pulse when he bit her neck. This time he didn’t break the skin as he nipped. Nipping he had done before and Stacia had even enjoyed it. Now, she was just too tired to care either way, although her body responded in a predictable fashion, apparently lacking the sense to know that it was done for the day, and had been for quite some time now.
He abandoned her neck and trailed gentle bites and licks down her back to her waist. He ran his hands over the curves of her buttocks, pushing them apart to expose her slit and anus to him. To her embarrassment, he sniffed her even there. He continued on, nipping, licking, and touching all the way to her feet, where he plucked off her slippers, then toyed with her toes as if fascinated by them. He even licked a couple of them. It was not something Stacia ever would have thought of as sexual, but it still shot a spark of heat through her.
It suddenly occurred to her that he was exploring her body like he wasn’t familiar with it, but they’d been very active lovers for the last three weeks. Balfor had already done this exploration before. He’d already touched and tasted her. He’d already rubbed her feet with curious hands, teasing her about the uselessness of her short and stubby toes. This creature might have Balfor’s body, but it wasn’t him, or it was a part of him that hadn’t experienced all those previous moments between Stacia and Balfor. Now, it appeared that the primal was making up for lost time.
She was afraid he was going to want to have sex with her again after he finished playing with her feet. To her surprise, he released her and stood. Before she could react in any way, he scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. Then he was walking to the wall. His talons gripped the crystals. His wingtips gripped higher crystals. He climbed the wall with her in his arms. Suddenly they were hanging upside down. Stacia clung to his neck, even though he was holding her tightly.
His wings closed around them. The air inside grew heavy with his musk, the earthy smell of their sex, and the scent of death that still clung to him. It was almost choking, but that wasn’t Stacia’s primary concern. Though his hold on her never loosened, Balfor’s body was relaxing as if he was ready to sleep. There was no way she could remain upside down for however long he planned on napping.
“Balfor, I can’t do this!”
He growled at her, but—unlike earlier—it sounded more impatient than outright threatening.
“I can’t hang upside down for hours and hours. It could kill me!” She hoped that got through to him, and more important, that he cared enough to do something about it.
There was a long moment where a barely audible growl rumbled in his chest. Then he opened his wings. Tightening his hold on her, he released his talons and flipped back to the ground. It was terrifying and caused lightheadedness, but at least Stacia was now upright. He didn’t release her though. Looking around him with a snarl that pulled back his lips, he carried her to the smoothest part of the floor by the mineral spring.
He set her down. When her backside made contact with the cold rock, she wished she could grab for the discarded fabric of her dress to soften her seat, but thought better of it and stayed put. Balfor crouched beside her and then stretched out to lie on the hard ground, his wings spreading away from his back so Stacia had to shift to avoid them.
When she moved, his wing shot out to wrap around her shoulder, the sharp claw on the tip curving around her throat. He tugged her towards him, adjusting her with his wings and arms until she lay draped across his chest. When he had her positioned to his satisfaction, he closed his wings around them again.
As she laid her cheek against his chest, she allowed a small sigh to escape her. She had no idea how long it would take for her to reach Balfor and cause him to regain his reason, but it looked like it wasn’t going to be any time soon. Though she’d accepted there would be risks, she hadn’t really thought any of this out. Now she was in it for the long haul, and it didn’t look like it was going to be a comfortable experience.
She’d been in uncomfortable situations before, and there were certainly worse places to be than sprawled out on Balfor’s warm and muscular chest, but the uncertainty of her fate still worried her. Yet she discovered that she found something appealing even about this side of him, though his primal could definitely get more familiar with bathing, not to mention communicating.
*****
Mine. He felt a rush of satisfaction at that word as he held the not-kin female against his chest. The Other battered at his defenses, but would not break through. Not this time. The Other had always won before, but this time he was stronger. He would never be chained again. Now he had the female in addition to his freedom, and could finally feel and taste and smell what he had only seen through the veil when the Other was with her. She was his now. The Other was desperate to take her back from him, but he was
even more determined to keep her.
She was sleeping on his chest. He liked having her there, though he did not like sleeping on the ground. It wasn’t comfortable, and it wasn’t safe. But the beasts were afraid of him anyway, and would no longer come near his lair. He couldn’t understand what she said to him, but her fear when he’d tried to sleep on the ceiling had come through. It scared her, and he didn’t want her to be scared, because then she would try to run away. That was why he was sleeping on the ground with rocks digging into his back.
The Other could understand the noises she made. The Other could speak to her in return, but he would not let the Other too close to the surface so he could understand, or it might regain control and chain him up again. He had to guess at what she wanted, and communicate the only way he knew how.
She smelled good. Really good. There was the scent of another male on her, but that male hadn’t rutted with her, so though the scent bothered him, he’d swallowed the growl of anger at it. His own scent upon her was now dominant. No other male would doubt his possession of the not-kin female, and only a fool would attempt to claim her while his mark was upon her. He wanted to rut her some more, but she was fragile and weak. He didn’t want to break her. He’d already made her bleed. He’d tried to soothe her pain by licking the wounds he’d accidentally caused, but she’d only reacted in fear. Tension had trembled in her muscles.
Her wounds had not healed, though they had stopped bleeding. It was strange to him, the way she did not heal like the kin. There were even scars on her body, the kind that only the bright ones’ weapons could leave behind on the kin.
He liked the scars. They had an interesting texture, but still tasted of her soft, smooth skin. It was different. She was different. And now she was his. He was never going to let her go.
Chapter 20
He didn’t need much sleep, but the not-kin female slept on and on. He began to fear that he had broken her when she did not awaken for a long time. Yet she still breathed, and he could hear her heartbeat still beating. That reassured him, as did the brush of her warm breath against the sensory hairs on his chest every time she exhaled. Maybe she was only tired. Maybe he could not rut her for so long, though his loins ached and the pain only seemed to increase the longer she lay on him with her soft body almost melting against his while she slept.
He smoothed his hands over her skin, gently so as not to awaken her before she’d finished resting. Lifting one hand, he stroked her hair. It was softer and smoother than kin hair. Very fine, the strands slipped through his fingers. The color was pale golden like Father’s Eye, but not burning, not painful. Just smooth and almost cool to the touch. Touching her felt good. Smelling her was good. Tasting her was the best, especially the nectar between her legs. Again, different. Not-kin. But delicious, better than anything he’d tasted in as long as he could remember. Time had blurred ever since the Sundering. Being chained up did that. Freedom always tasted better and smelled better and even sounded better.
But it was lonely, especially since she was sleeping. He missed the Other. He hated the Other, too. The emotions conflicted within him, but he wouldn’t allow them to weaken him enough to thin the veil so the Other could break through. He could feel desperation coming from the Other. During his last few freedoms, the Other hadn’t fought as hard to regain control and had always rested in the beginning before fighting back. Now the Other had something to fight for, but so did he.
She would need something to eat. Her teeth were flat, like a grass-eater. She would prefer plant to meat, then. There were mushrooms deeper in the caverns that the plant eaters liked to eat. He would take her to them when she awakened. Then to the spring to drink. Maybe then she would be ready to rut again. He frowned as he thought about the hard ground beneath him. If she was kin, she could hang from the ceiling with him, and he could rut her comfortably. He didn’t want to hurt her pale skin any more than he already had, though. He would have to make her a bed, so that they could rut and sleep the way the Other had done since the Sundering. Civilized. His lip curled at the word. He hated it.
*****
When Stacia awoke, she groaned. Her whole body ached and her knees felt bruised. But at least she was warm, though the bed beneath her was hard and unyielding and… Balfor. His musk was thick in her nose, which was pressed against his chest, inhaling him as if she couldn’t get enough. For a brief, hopeful moment, she thought that the last week had been just a terrible nightmare. Then memory spilled back into her consciousness. The body beneath her might have belonged to her lover, but Balfor wasn’t in control of it anymore.
When she lifted her head cautiously, he spread his wings, breaking the cocoon around them. Fresh air and the light from the mineral pool banished the last fleeting hope that she’d been dreaming about all of this. He was awake and alert, and his erection against her stomach was a hard reminder of what he wanted from her.
Stacia cautiously shifted her weight, gauging his reaction. When he didn’t move to immediately stop her and didn’t growl in that animalistic way, she moved further, sliding off of him. His wing still curled beneath her. She winced as her weight fell upon it. She’d rolled onto it, slept on it and had even kneeled on it in the past, but she never got over how it didn’t seem to bother Balfor. It seemed like his wings should be fragile, but they were the exact opposite, far tougher than leather and yet more flexible and stretchable.
Balfor’s primal didn’t seem any more disturbed by her clambering over his wing than Balfor had been in the past, which was good, because given the awkward way they were laying, there was no way for her to get away from him except for over his wing.
To her relief, he let her move away from his side. Part of that might have been the fact that she didn’t go too far. She wasn’t going to try and run away. She’d come here to help Balfor. She loved him and knew he was inside there somewhere.
He sat up as she scooted warily towards the mineral pool. As he did, his wings folded at his waist where the bones were like the knuckles of a hand. She’d always found their maneuverability fascinating; the way biology had accommodated the unique form of the umbrose. Her gaze went from his wings up to his face, avoiding the erection that remained hard and evident between his legs. It seemed he didn’t even bother with a loincloth anymore, as she hadn’t seen him wearing one since she’d entered the cavern.
His eyes were fixed upon her, watching her as if he expected her to try an escape. She slowly reached to touch the water of the mineral pool, uncertain of the temperature. A low growl rumbling in his throat, he continued to watch her. She froze at the sound.
He climbed to his feet in a graceful move that looked effortless to him. Then he reached down and scooped her up in his arms. Though she was unnerved by his unexpected action, she remained motionless in his embrace, even when he charged off into the darkness, abandoning the pool and the tiny source of light.
The air changed around them, growing cooler and smelling fresher as they moved through the darkness. Occasionally, glowing quartz, lichen, and mushrooms relieved the black nothingness that was all she could make out.
The scent of a damp, fresh breeze heralded the sound of running water. Balfor continued through the tunnel, and the scents and sounds of water grew louder. The tunnel opened into a cavern, and a thousand stars glittered overhead.
That she was looking at the night sky was her first impression. It was actually the cavern ceiling, but there were what seemed like endless glowing points of light stuck to the dark rock above them. As she stared up at them, they writhed. Realizing they were actually tiny glowing worms, she was a little grossed out, but still awed by the effect they made in the darkness. On the ground, glowing lichen stretched like veins along the rocky bank of a little stream. There were occasional spots of flat shelves of lichen.
Balfor carried her to the stream and set her on her feet beside the water. He said something to her. This time it wasn’t a growl, though it still had the rumbly sound, but he was actually forming wo
rds as he gestured to the stream. Unfortunately, the words were probably umbrose words. His lips twisted as he spoke as if he wasn’t comfortable with the action.
When Stacia looked at him and shrugged in incomprehension, he snarled. Then, rather than attack her, which was what she feared he would do based on his expression, he knelt by the stream and cupped his hands in the water, lifting it to his mouth. Then he looked at her and motioned with his head that she should do the same.
Stacia knelt beside his big body, close enough that she brushed against his wing unintentionally. She dipped her hands into water that was quite cold and then paused with it rushing over her fingers when his wing unfolded and curled around her, pulling her against his shoulder.
He didn’t make any other moves, just left his wing against her as if he enjoyed having her rubbing up against him. Which he must, if he was anything like the Balfor she knew. The umbrose seemed to love physical contact. They liked to touch and hold. They enjoyed caresses on their sensory-hair covered skin. Stacia already knew that much from the last three weeks as Balfor’s lover.
Convinced he wasn’t going to do anything more aggressive than just hold her, she relaxed against him and lifted her cupped hands to drink the refreshingly cold water. It was better than any of the purified water she could get in DC. It was also way too cold to wash herself with, which was what she’d been hoping to do with the small mineral spring in the other cavern.
She’d had vague hopes of convincing Balfor to wash himself as well, or allow her to do it. It seemed like he was acting less like a wild animal now and instead was trying to communicate with her. She wondered if something had changed while she was sleeping. Perhaps he was coming to his senses, only it happened very slowly. Cursing her impulsive and impatient nature, she wished now that she had asked more questions of Gorzo before letting him bring her here.
Balfor's Salvation Page 17
