by Dee Brice
Wondering if Kel would use his friends’ mounts to escape, he said, “Yes. But several are drays, raised for use in the fields.”
Clearly exasperated, Kel huffed. “If I remain here, Aren, I promise—I—” She looked down at her hands. “I thought I’d teach Drew and Laurette to ride. Erland and Storrtwo, as well, if Caton will allow it.” Her gaze shifted to his face then to the prophecy cloth.
“Mending fences, Kel?”
“Yes.”
She sounded so miserable Aren didn’t press for a more complete explanation, although he suspected a lot of hurt feelings were involved. Kel’s as well as Drew’s. “I’ll be off in the morning then.”
“Will…will you wake me before you leave? If there’s time, we could breakfast together.”
“I’d like that.” Very much.
* * * * *
Kel gave up trying to sleep, blaming the light from three moons that made her bedroom as bright as day. Throwing back the blankets, she paced to the window and glared her resentment at those insensitive orbs that kept the goddesses of sleep away.
Hyperbole again, Kel?
Sighing, she admitted the moons also kept her from dreaming for which she thanked the gods. Although…the dream she’d shared with Aren at the waterfall was beautiful.
She glanced in the direction of his sleep room, tempted to join him in the bed, which was even larger than the one they’d shared in the Princesses’ Palace. No. She intended to leave him once she knew his departure was not a trap. Once she was certain he wouldn’t double back and catch her escaping. But oh, how sweet to mate with him one last time. How wonderful to make a child with him.
Unable to resist watching him sleep, she tiptoed to his door then peered in. Knowing how warm he was even in slumber, seeing the bedding on the floor did not surprise her. Her fingers twitched, longing to explore those sculpted muscles, aching to feel his heat and the comforting thump of his heart under her palm. And her heart squeezed when she realized he had a pillow cradled in his arms just as he cuddled her.
Creeping forward, a squeaky floorboard made her cringe and halted her in place. She saw his arms tighten around her soft replacement, but when he stilled she risked moving again, drawn by his magnificent body bathed in moonlight. Her heart beat so loud in her ears she prayed he would not hear. Reaching the side of the bed, she released her pent-up breath, holding it again as she put one knee on the mattress and let it take her weight.
“Kel?” His sleepy voice held hope and doubt. Before she could answer he rolled toward her and repeated, “Kel,” combining relief and welcome in that single word.
She made low, soothing noises and stretched out at his side. Without opening his eyes, he drew her to him and sniffed as if inhaling her scent. She breathed deeply, savoring the aromas of his warm flesh and musk. She burrowed closer and celebrated his contented sigh.
His fingertips fluttered down her arm and hesitated over her hand. Sensing diffidence in his touch, she turned her hand and melded their palms and fingers. Emboldened, she moved their joined hands to her breast.
His cock stiffened against her belly. Her nipples hardened and her breasts swelled. Reaching between their bodies, she shifted her hips and his cock until it rested at her opening.
“Gods,” he whispered, thrusting into her, then sighing once again. And not moving.
Well, his cock pulsed and his hands cupped her buttocks. And he sort of groaned. She thought about shaking him awake then dismissed the idea. She didn’t want to waken him completely. Just enough to bring them both to bliss and him to wonder if it was real or only a dream. Chewing on her lower lip, wondering if she dared taking matters into her own hands—or pussy, she thought, smothering a giggle in her hand—she flexed her hips. His hips pushed back and his cock got a little harder. At least she thought it did. Her pussy felt fuller and wetter than only seconds ago.
Aren’s hips rose and fell then rose again, pushing his cock a little deeper. He felt so good she couldn’t suppress her mewls. Slapping a hand over her mouth to smother more noise, she wiggled her own hips. Aren groaned and his eyelids flickered. Kel froze. Aren did not. Shoving deeper, gliding back until only his cockhead remained inside her, he repeated the process until Kel had to smother her cries of delight in Aren’s discarded pillow. And his gentle, almost tender claiming brought her to stunned, shattering release.
As the roar of her heartbeat quieted, she heard their pants ease to rhythmic inhalations and exhalations. Her eyelids drooped as she snuggled against him. Recognizing the danger of falling asleep in his arms, she risked looking at him. With his lips curved in a small smile she pressed a quick kiss on them, then maneuvered free.
“Sleep well, my love,” she whispered at his door.
Aren’s eyes popped open and his smile widened to a grin. He waited until Kel’s bed ropes no longer creaked, then made his way to her sleep room. Not bothering to sneak, he strode to the bed then tossed her bedding to the floor.
She yelped and curled into a ball, one arm over her breasts, the other over her knees as they hid her mons. “Wh-what are you doing?” she demanded, her voice squeaking like a cornered mouse.
“Nothing as yet.” Settling at her side, he pulled her buttocks to his groin and ignored the fact that she curled even tighter around herself.
Huffing, she glared at him over her shoulder. “What do you intend to do?”
“Spend the night with my wife. After all, sweeting, we shall be apart for several days. I want to take the memory of your warm body with me. And hope for an equally warm welcome when I return.”
In the semi-light the moons provided, he couldn’t see her eyes, but suspected they were swirling in a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. Guilt over taking what he hadn’t agreed to share. The remnants of the pleasure they’d shared. Anticipation of the bliss that stretched before them. He could imagine all those emotions in her eyes.
“Relax, wife. I only want to hold you.”
“Are you certain?” she asked, a hint of guilt and apology in her voice.
“I am. I wouldn’t take advantage of you any more than you would of me.” He grinned at the ceiling, knowing he had rattled her so badly she hadn’t denied their marriage or called him a liar about his intent.
He heard her gulp and felt her muscles tense. Curling around her back, he relaxed as if all he wanted was to sleep with her in his arms. Stroking his hand down her arm, he rested his palm over her clenched fist. Her breathing evened before her fingers uncurled then wiggled, inviting him to lace his fingers with hers.
He did and felt a shiver tremble though her hand and down her body. Burying his nose in the curve of her neck and shoulder, he pressed a gentle kiss to the tender flesh. Expecting her to move away, he smiled when she relaxed even more and pushed her buttocks to his groin.
His shaft pulsed, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she hummed and moved his hand to her breast. Guiding his fingers, she traced her areola, moaning softly when his caresses made her nipple pearl.
“Kel.” He whispered her name, a prayer and a warning in his voice. He had reached the point where her rejection might not stop him.
Shifting, she allowed him to slip his shaft into her slick, tight sheath. He slid his arm under her and found her rigid clit in the nest of damp curls between her thighs. Mewling, she drew his face to hers and pleaded, “Kiss me.”
Their tongues met. Their sighs turned to groans as their rhythm changed from slow and easy to hard and fierce. Her cunt squeezed his shaft until his balls tightened and exploded his cum deep within her molten core.
Her eyes drifted closed and she relaxed completely. He kept her in his arms. She couldn’t pretend she had only dreamed their fucking. How could she when she woke with him buried to his balls in her pulsing cunt?
But when he awakened again, Kel had already left the bed. Hearing running water, he knew where to find her.
* * * * *
Kel sensed him even before he joined her in the shower. Since it fel
t like a deluge, she thought it should be called a storm or something more descriptive of its power.
Stop equivocating. Think, Kel! How could she hide her intention to run when he could read her eyes so well?
“I know why you came to me last night, Kel.”
Sweet gods, he knew? “Y-you do?” At least her voice sounded steady. Would he notice her shaky knees?
“Well, I have a theory or two.” Taking the caill-scented soap from her hands, he ran it down her back.
“You do?”
“You either intended to pay me back for the dream we shared in the cave or…”
His soapy fingers sliding between her buttocks around her hip to stroke her clit made her breath hitch and her mind fog. “Or?” she managed.
“Or you realized how much you’ll miss me.” Chuckling, he added, “Did you really think I could sleep through you making love to me?”
Relief made her knees buckle. But Aren had one hand on her breast and his other between her legs, which kept her from collapsing at his feet.
“A little of both,” she admitted, feeling able to look at him. What his clever fingers were doing to her nipple and clit would account for any strange emotions in her eyes. “And you played dead to the world quite convincingly.”
“To our mutual satisfaction.” His voice deepened, a promise of even greater satisfaction. “Turn around, sweeting, so I can see your eyes.”
The last thing she wanted. Knowing she couldn’t avoid it, she turned and met his gaze head-on.
What she saw in his eyes left her breathless and so aroused she could only pray her legs would support her. Desire, yes, but so much more, she couldn’t begin to define the myriad emotions.
“Aren,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his unshaven cheek. His stubble tickled her palm as he rubbed her hand over it.
“Should I shave?”
“No.”
“Not even to protect the tender skin between your thighs?”
He intended to breakfast on her body? The very idea set off a war of conflicting needs. Her body heated to near boiling and her juices drenched her pussy. Had it a voice, her clit would beg for his tongue, lips and gentle nips. Her nipples would roar their need. Her mind warned her that time was passing too fast. That she needed him to leave—and soon—or the sun might set before she could find safe harbor for the first night of her escape.
“Have you—” time, she thought,“something to put under your knees? This floor is very hard.” She couldn’t bear to let him leave without mating—making love with him—one last time.
“Shower off.” Linking their fingers, he led her to a wide bench she hadn’t noticed before. “Sit and I’ll adjust the back.”
She didn’t want to let go of him, but her body had its own priorities. She sat. The bench conformed to her body, supporting her back and spreading her legs. Her breasts were within easy reach of his hands, her pussy the perfect licking distance for his tongue. Through a haze of lust, she realized the bench had risen to give Aren access to every aching, needy inch of her. Her skin flushed, yet her cravings made her whisper, “Please, Aren. I need you.”
“Not yet,” he murmured as he kissed and licked his way down her body.
She shivered, anticipating his tongue lapping her drenched pussy, his fingers plucking her rigid nipples. And when he finally—finally—caressed her areolas and nipped her rigid clit she expelled a grateful moan and arched into everything he gave her.
The feelings they’d shared in the cave overwhelmed her again. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she sensed the pleasure he gained by pleasing her. His clever tongue circling her clit made her sigh. Licking its tip wrenched a delighted gasp that seemed to start in her clit then surge up her body and out of her mouth. When he sucked the tender nub, her hips jerked and she writhed against his face, her breath pants of pleasure, her voice begging him to fuck her sounding so needy that—had she an ounce of modesty—she’d have blushed.
Modesty? Now? When rapture drew so near every muscle tightened, anticipating its imminent arrival?
“Fuck me,” she pleaded, bliss in her voice.
“Soon,” he promised as if he shared every sensation coursing through her body. As if he’d taken her inside and knew her as well as he knew himself. His hoarse laugh vibrated around her clit and she shattered, grinding her pussy into his face, crying his name over and over.
“More,” she pleaded, uncaring that her voice betrayed her craving. She was beyond worrying about revealing her lust. She needed more of this incredible, delicious torment.
“Play with your nipples, sweeting, and I’ll take you to another galaxy.”
As she obeyed, he slid his fingers into her, pressing on her sensitive softness while he sucked her clit. Stars she had never seen tore by her closed eyelids, leaving bursts of color in their wake. Another climax ripped through her like a sun gone supernova. She shook so hard she expected to fall off the bench. Tears spilled over her cheeks, swiped away by his rough velvet tongue.
His breathing ragged, Aren filled her pulsing cunt and prayed he could withstand the agonizing need to erupt in her sweet heat. Shifting her legs to his shoulders, he watched her eyes pop open then arrow to his face. Surprise lightened them to aqua. Then they began to swirl with all the colors of her bliss.
Then she seemed to go away. Her eyes stormy with hints of regret and other emotions he did not understand and did not wish to. Fighting the urge to pound into her, to lose himself in the mindlessness of his own release, he lapped away her tears then laved the ticklish pulse point where her neck and shoulder joined. Laughing, she pulled on his hair to plunge her tongue into his mouth. When at last he eased back her eyes swirled with such joy, his heart took wing.
And she let him see it all. Most of all, he saw the depth of her love for him as they climaxed together, her cunt fisting then unfisting around his cock. He spurted deep inside her and roared her name.
* * * * *
Later That Morning
Only after Aren had flown Peg so high she could no longer see them did Kel remember the questions she’d intended to ask. “Who will feed Gryph? Water your plants?” she demanded of the clouds floating high above.
“The plants receive what they need from an automatic system,” Drew said, stepping out from the tree-cast shadows. She looked indifferent, but Kel saw lingering resentment in the way she stood—as if braced for Kel to attack her in some physical way—like hitting her or something. Her eyes seemed wary, as though Drew waited for another emotional attack from Kel.
“Erland and Storrtwo feed the pegagryphs when Aren is away,” Drew said as she advanced another step in Kel’s direction.
Kel picked up the prophecy cloth from the railing where she’d hung it last night. Folding it, she put it on a chair then sat on the wooden deck’s top step.
“How is it that the pegagryphs have names but Aren’s horse does not?” Kel asked.
“Horse is his name.” Shrugging, Drew settled several steps below Kel’s bare feet, close but out of easy reach.
“Aren told me Caton has several horses. Does he call them Horseone, Horsetwo and so on?”
Drew’s giggle relieved the tension Kel had felt flowing between them.
“I think Aren had a dog once,” Drew said, scooting up one step and a little closer to Kel’s feet. “It died.”
“Every— Ahhh, I think I understand. The dog had a name—other than dog—and it died. Pegagryphs live far longer than humans, so Aren figures he won’t be around when they die. But he’ll probably outlive Horse, who doesn’t have a name.”
“Horse,” Drew began then giggled.
“Is his name,” Kel finished through her laugh. Sobering, she added, “It’s a beautiful weave, Drew. You and Laurette are very talented. I…I didn’t understand its purpose when I returned it.”
“I should have explained when we gave it to you.” She looked up but stayed where she was.
Kel figured it was time she took the next step to
ward full reconciliation. She dropped to Drew’s side.
“Caton said something about riding,” Drew said, her voice almost bored but her expression hopeful.
“I thought I’d teach you. If you want me to, that is. Even if Ondrican never has to fight a war, women… On Amazonia, women ride.” Grinning, Kel added, “Sometimes we even ride just for the pleasure it gives us.” Not that warriors had much time for pleasure riding—not on horses at any rate.
Pleasure. Riding for and with pleasure. Kel remembered the dream the prophecy cloth had brought to her and Aren. It felt even more real this morning. So real, she rubbed her chest as if her heart heard words—I love you—Aren had not spoken. Realizing what she was doing, she leaned her elbows on her knees and looked over at Drew. And most definitely last night was not a dream, although both sessions had a certain surreal aspect to them. But she would think about that later—once she got away from her visitor.
“Horses require work. Hard work. Just like a house, their stalls need cleaning. Having hooves, they cannot prepare their own meals but rely on us to feed them or to set them free to graze on their own. We must also care for their clothes—blankets and bridles and saddles.”
“Erland and Storrtwo really hate mucking stalls.”
Kel stood. Taking Drew’s hand, she pulled the girl to her feet. “You’ll not ride until you, too, have grown to hate mucking stalls. Come on, it’s time to tend to Horse.”
Drew recaptured Kel’s hand. “Did Aren tell you the prophecy cloth predicts the future?”
“What do you mean?”
“Only that sometimes what occurs in a dream will truly happen.”
Nonsense, she thought as she followed Drew toward the horse barn. She’d be gone before that had even a chance of happening.
* * * * *
Castle Storr
When Basalia’s image finally appeared on Storr’s vidscreen, Aren stopped his restless pacing and studied his mother-in-law’s features. Basalia’s hair was redder than Kel’s and a wide white stripe accented her widow’s peak. Dark brows winged above her green eyes. Her cheeks looked rounder than her daughter’s but her nose, lips and chin had transferred perfectly to Kel.
