When he was certain that Dionne had done as he’d told her and not taken it into her head to try to follow him, Rikard circled the village and headed for the stream where he and his brothers had often gone to swim as children. There was a small pool upstream from the shallow area where the villagers usually went to bathe and collect water for drinking and their cooking pots.
As he’d hoped, and indeed expected, he found Khan sitting on the great flat stone they liked to sun themselves on, staring blindly at the rippling waters of the stream.
Khan tensed when he heard his approach, but he didn’t turn to offer a greeting.
It was indication enough that he was intruding and unwelcome, but Rikard ignored it. Dismounting, he left his horse to graze and strode purposefully toward his younger brother.
Khan turned to glare at him when he finally stopped beside the rock.
It wasn’t a promising beginning, Rikard thought wryly. “She noticed you were gone.”
Several emotions chased each other across Khan’s face. Finally, a wry smile curled his lips. “I should be flattered, I suppose, that it only took her a couple of weeks. How goes renewal?”
“Well,” Rikard said, frowning.
Khan nodded, but it was obvious he had little interest.
“Why did you leave?”
“It was time--to let go.”
Irritation surfaced. “I’ve never known you to back down from anything in your life! What is it about this woman that defeats you?”
Khan glanced at his brother angrily before focusing his enraged gaze on the river again. “Futility!” he growled. “I’m not such a fool as to continue to fight for something that was lost even before I started. I would not have tried at all if I had known I could change nothing. I didn’t understand … then.” He sighed tiredly. “I knew when she told me that she considered me a friend and companion that she was telling me that was all I could ever be. As much as I value that, I can not endure it. Sooner or later I would lose what little sense I have left and do something completely unforgivable.”
Rikard looked heavenward, seeking patience. “You misunderstood,” he said, resisting the urge to call his Chief a fool. “She’s dying....”
Khan’s head snapped around so quickly, Rikard heard a bone in his neck pop. The color washed from his face even as he surged to his feet. “What?”
Rikard gaped at him, so stunned by the abrupt transformation in his brother that his mind went completely blank. An unholy amusement settled in his gut when he realized Khan had completely misunderstood him. He ought to take pity, he knew. Khan was liable to kill him--or try--when he realized what he’d done, but he could see nothing short of a bomb under his ass was going to galvanize Khan into taking action now when he’d met so much opposition for so long. “She begged me to find you, to tell you she needs you.”
Khan looked like he might faint for several moments and Rikard suffered another qualm. Shrugging inwardly, he dismissed it. “Take my horse,” he said helpfully.
“Poor choice of words,” he muttered when Khan had disappeared. “I suppose I should have said, desperate instead of dying---of course, if he’d let me finish the sentence….”
After considering it thoughtfully for a few minutes, he wondered if he ought to find Khan’s horse and try to catch up to him. A little more thought convinced him that Khan was probably halfway to the lab by now and the attempt would almost certainly be pointless, besides putting him closer to ground zero than he really wanted to get. That possibility convinced him he’d be far better off to find Khan’s horse and make himself scarce for a while--just until Khan and Dionne had settled things.
* * * *
Dionne took one look at Khan’s face when he burst into her quarters and felt as if the world had dropped out from under her. He looked--devastated. The moment that thought popped into her head a dozen images of disaster collided in her mind, each worse than the one before, and she thought for several moments that she would faint. “Khan?” she asked weakly, too unnerved by the haunted look on his face to ask him what terrible thing had happened.
She didn’t know whether she rushed to him or vice versa, but she found herself caught up in a crushing embrace.
“Are you all right?” they asked, almost in perfect unison.
Khan relaxed his death grip on her and pulled away enough to look down at her. His expression was puzzled. “Shouldn’t you be lying down?”
Dionne blinked at him in confusion. “I should? Is it that bad?”
“Rikard said you were--you needed me,” he said slowly, obviously baffled, although to save her life Dionne couldn’t figure out why.
“You’re all right?” she asked tentatively.
Anger was starting to glint in his eyes. “Except for having been scared out of ten years of my life, I’m fine,” he said tightly.
Dionne went back to blinking. “Who scared you?”
“You!”
Her jaw dropped. “I don’t understand. I just told your brother I needed to talk to you.”
Khan’s temper went into slow boil. “I’m going to kill him,” he growled, setting Dionne away from him.
Dionne gaped at him as he spun on his heel, but went she saw his intent, she raced him to the door, planting herself firmly in front of it and spreading her arms to either side to block his retreat. “Lois! Lock the door!”
“The barbarian is inside,” Lois pointed out.
“Lock it, damn it!”
Khan stopped, his eyes narrowing on her face. “I’m not in the mood for games, Dionne. I warn you, I’m well beyond the limits of endurance. Move--before I do something we’ll both regret.”
Alarm fluttered in Dionne’s breast, but she stood her ground. “I just--wanted to talk,” she said a little lamely, unnerved by the look in his eyes as his gaze traveled her length, slowly, before returning to her face.
When he reached for her, Dionne knew he meant to move her out of his way. She also knew that if he left she might lose her chance to reach him. “I love you,” she said quickly.
A jolt went through him. His expression changed from anger to one almost comically blank. “What did you say?”
Taking advantage of his shock, she surged toward him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and lifting up on her toes to kiss him. “I--love--you,” she said slowly, emphasizing each word with a light kiss along his jaw. “Make love to me--make babies with me--make a new world with me.”
He caught her waist in his hands, lifting her, and she thought he meant to thrust her away. Instead, he pushed her against the door, corralling her with his own body, as if he more than half feared she would change her mind. Twisting his head, he sought her mouth blindly, settled his lips over hers in a kiss filled with a need that went beyond desperate yearning.
Relief surged through Dionne. Desire followed upon its heels in a heady rush of heat, weakness, breathlessness. The threat of abandonment past, she loosened her hold on his neck, stroking his silky, inky black hair, his back and shoulders, opening her mouth to his possession, kissing him back with a fervor that rapidly overtook his need in terms of urgency.
She dragged in a shaky breath when he lifted his lips from hers and kissed her cheek, her neck and then dragged his lips upward to suck the lobe of her ear. The heat of his breath on her ear lifted the flesh along her neck and arm in tight little pinpoints of sensory perception, making her more keenly aware of the feel of his flesh against hers. Her nipples responded, coming erect with the blood that engorged them. The same heated tide engorged her sex, echoing the frantic pace of her heart.
Sighing with pleasure, she turned her head, pressing her face against the side of his neck to breathe in his scent before she nibbled a trail of kisses along his neck to his ear and investigated it, teasing the sensitive flesh with the edge of her teeth.
A shudder went through him. He sought her mouth again, sliding one hand between them to cup her breast and massage it briefly before he slid his hand down over her belly and between her thighs, cur
ling his fingers against her cleft. A jolt like an electric current went through her as his finger found the tiny nub of her clit and rubbed it. Gasping, she rocked against his finger. Her brain went into total melt down.
Drowning in a sea of her own need, she slipped one hand downward to cup his sex, as well, rubbing her palm over his erection through the leather and finally digging beneath his loincloth to touch the heated, silky skin of his sex. His cock jerked as her hand closed around it.
Breaking the kiss, he buried his face against her neck, breathing raggedly as he ran his hands over her, searching a little frantically for a way to free her from the nightgown. He found the ties in the back at last and fumbled to untie them. The ties tangled and knotted, frustrating his efforts. Dionne encountered a similar roadblock when she discovered the tie of his breechcloth and jerked on it.
Thwarted, they abandoned the effort for the moment, stroking each other through the barriers that confined them, sharing a long, hungry kiss before, almost as one, they turned their attention to trying to disrobe each other again.
Tugging at the fabric, Khan managed to push the shoulders of her nightgown far enough down her shoulders to unveil the upper slope of her breasts. Stroking the soft skin with his hand, he followed with a trail of open mouthed kisses. Finding he could tug the gown no lower, he returned to the source of his frustration, wrestling with the ties again for several moments. Tiring of fighting with the knot, Khan wrapped the ties in one fist and gave it a sharp tug. The sound of rending fabric followed and the gown loosened. Dionne murmured a halfhearted protest. “This is my only nightgown.”
He grunted, nibbling along her shoulder as he pushed the gown down to her waist and covered the tip of one breast with his mouth, instantly depriving Dionne of any interest in the gown at all. The tug of his mouth on the acutely sensitive nub induced a riot of drugging sensation. Her belly quivered and tightened. Moisture gathered along the channel of her sex.
Enthralled, Dionne went perfectly still, her fingers kneading his flesh where she clutched him. She gasped when he lifted his head and captured its twin, evoking an even more profound explosion of sensation.
A feeling of desperation began to invade her senses as he continued to divide his attention between the two tender nubs. Scarcely aware of what she was doing anymore, Dionne threaded her fingers in his hair and tugged. He lifted his head and looked up at her for a moment. Straightening, he covered her mouth once more, thrusting his tongue between her parted, gasping lips and exploring the highly responsive inner flesh of her mouth.
A shiver went through Dionne as the hard muscles of his chest brushed across her acutely sensitized breasts along the way. The feel of his bare skin against hers was captivating. Frustration invaded her as she slipped a hand downward again, encountering his breechcloth. Blindly, she felt for the tie again, struggled with it briefly. Finally, she gripped the tie and gave it a sharp tug. She was rewarded with the sound of tearing leather and the loosening of the barrier.
“This is my only loincloth,” Khan growled against her lips.
Pushing the breechcloth from his hips so that it fell to his ankles, she cupped her hand over his bare flesh, stroking his engorged flesh.
He sucked in his breath sharply. A shudder went through him.
Grasping her waist, he lifted her up against the door, thrusting his hips forward and grinding his cock against her cleft. Dionne moaned as the rough caress touched off jolts of piercing delight, wrapping her legs around his waist to steady herself and give him better access.
She slid downward.
He caught her buttocks in his hands and pushed her up the door again.
She looped her arms around his neck and tightened them to hold herself up.
He ground his hips against her and his hard flesh bumped along her tender cleft, producing a wild combination of pleasure, frustration, and enough pain to pierce her absorption. She sucked in her breath sharply.
“I hurt you?”
“No,” she lied, nibbling at his ear lobe. “Don’t stop.”
Either he didn’t believe her or he simply gave up on getting the leverage he needed. Tightening his arms around her, he kicked his breechcloth from his ankles and moved to the tiny counter of her kitchenette and propped her buttocks on the icy surface. Dionne yelped, jerking away from the cold instinctively.
Glancing around with a look desperation, Khan spied the furs across the room at last. Carrying her to them, he dropped to his knees and bent over, half lowering her and half falling onto the pile. The air left her lungs in a grunt as he landed on top of her. She tightened her arms before he could pull away, however, sticking her tongue in his ear.
His breath hissed sharply through his teeth.
Dragging his arms from beneath her, he brushed her hair from her face and locked his lips to hers in a brief, gusty kiss before shifting to one side of her and sliding a hand down her body as far as he could reach. Encountering the nightgown at her waist, he lowered his head to her breast, teasing the nipple most accessible to him with his lips and tongue as he gathered the fabric in his hand. When he’d unveiled the skin beneath, he skated his hand upward along her thigh.
Dionne gasped, arching her back as she felt his fingers thread the curling patch of hair on her mound and then part her nether lips. His thick finger slipped back and forth briefly along her cleft, gathering and spreading the moisture of her desire, and finally settled on her clit.
The desperation that had waned slightly in the search for a place to lie together, burgeoned, quickly outstripped the need of before. Pushing at his shoulders until he leaned away, she lifted her hips, shoving the nightgown down until she could fight free of it, and then grasped his wrist, spreading her thighs wide as she guided his hand back to her cleft.
He settled his knee between her thighs, moving over her and replacing his hand along her cleft with his swollen member. Gasping, Dionne caught his shoulders in her hands, lifting up to meet him so that his thick cock plowed along her cleft, bypassing the point that ached for him.
Gasping against her throat, he pushed her hands away, caught his cock in one hand and guided it home, wedging the head in her opening.
She gritted her teeth, pushing against his exploratory thrust until she felt her flesh reluctantly parting to accept his intrusion.
They paused to catch their breath, their bodies clinging with the moisture of their labors. Supporting himself on his elbows, Khan nuzzled her neck and one ear. “You said you were the failsafe,” he murmured, his voice harsh as he struggled against his need.
Dionne wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. “Make me your woman, Khan. Please.”
A shudder went through him. He lifted slightly away from her, watching her face as he claimed her, inch by excruciating inch, embedding his hardened flesh a little deeper with each smooth thrust until he encountered a barrier. Dionne gripped his buttocks as he began to withdraw, digging her fingers into the firm flesh in determination. He hesitated a moment and thrust again. She arched to meet him, squeezing her eyes tightly at the slight burning as he breeched her hymen and letting out a gasp of relief and pleasure as he sank fully inside of her.
A thrill went through her to feel him so deeply inside of her.
Khan held still, sought her mouth with his, kissing her until he felt moisture gathering along her channel, felt the hard clenching of her vaginal walls relax fractionally to ease his way. The response of her body to his wrenched the last of his control from him. Breaking the kiss, he began to move with purpose, seeking the prize that hovered just beyond his reach.
Pleasure bloomed inside of Dionne again the moment he began to move, expanding rapidly. She countered his rhythm, focusing her all on scaling the fullest spectrum of delight as each thrust touched off another wave higher than the one before. She reached crisis, reached a point where she could contain no more pleasure, teetered briefly on the edge and let out a cry of purest delight as she plunged over the precipice in an explosion of mindless
bliss.
Her crisis touched off his and she could feel his body jerking inside of her with his convulsions of rapture.
The eruption of tension sapped every ounce of strength from her. Feeling a glorious sense of repletion, she ceased to struggle against the weakness and lay limp beneath him as he shuddered and went still, a smile of utter satisfaction curling her lips.
Gasping for breath, he levered himself off of her and collapsed on his side beside her, removing the bulk of his weight from her, although he made no attempt to move completely away, leaving nearly half of his body draped across her.
Slowly, her heart and lungs ceased to labor with the aftereffects of supreme excitement. She was drifting lazily when he roused enough to lift his head and look at her.
“No regrets?”
It took an effort to lift her eyelids to look at him and even more of an effort to lift her hand to caress his cheek. “I’ve done all that could be expected of me, all that I can for mankind. As you pointed out, I have the right to take something for myself.”
He swallowed audibly, his gaze searching her face. “I don’t want you to feel regrets. I don’t want to have to live with the guilt that I interfered when I shouldn’t have. It would be--unbearable to think you regretted being with me."
She caressed his cheek. “I may regret some things, but I’ll never regret choosing the best this world has to offer for myself.”
The End
Twilight's End Page 17
