by Vonna Harper
“Clit…”
“Tsk, tsk. You really have to pay attention, Maia. You do want recess, don’t you?”
“Yes. Clit-oris.”
“That’s my girl.”
His finger had stopped moving. Maybe he’d noticed that she was becoming swollen there—at least it felt like that—and didn’t like it. Before she could think how to ask him, he found her opening and slipped into her. It was just one finger, a small thing compared to his—his cock. But that finger had to be responsible for the moisture filling her. It felt incredible.
“Good, good,” he muttered. “You’re a fast learner. No doubt about it, you’re going to the head of the class. Moving along, that wetness—you know you’re getting wet, don’t you?”
If she reached for him, would he ram his cock into her? Maybe she’d have to ask him to.
“There’s a name for what’s happening to you,” he continued. “Well, more like a phrase. You’re turned-on.”
“Turn?” The word came out a squeak. “You want me on my stomach?”
He laughed. “Another time, you bet. But I’m not going to press my luck by trying to take you too far too fast. Pay attention. It shouldn’t take you long to figure this out—and get off on it.” He pushed his finger farther inside her and wiggled it.
“Oh. “ She moaned. “Oh.”
“That’s turned-on,” he whispered, his tone now serious. “When that happens to a woman, juices—her pussy start to flow.”
“Oh,” she said even though she wasn’t really concentrating. She wished she could lie down and put her legs on his shoulders so he could get at her—her pussy—with less effort. At the same time, she was content to remain where she was, learning everything her pussy was capable of.
“Taurus?” she managed as something that felt like winged creatures beat at her pussy walls.
“I’m not Tau—what?”
“Is—is it the same for a man?”
“Is what the same?”
“The way mating feels?”
“We aren’t mating yet. This is foreplay, getting you turned-on.”
She opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but he stopped her by placing his free hand over her breast. She felt the tip called her milk-giver harden.
“It works, doesn’t it,” he said in that low voice she could swear she heard clear through her. “It doesn’t take much to arouse you.”
“Is—is that a good thing?”
“You’d better believe it. Maia, you may be the most sexually liberated woman I’ve ever known, certainly the most sexual virgin.”
She should tell him that she was no longer a virgin, but the buzzing that had started in her pussy—what a funny word—was spreading throughout her. She couldn’t make her eyes focus, and it took all her strength to remain where she was. His finger was a traveler, an explorer capable of finding places in her she hadn’t known existed. It shouldn’t be like that. How could he have more wisdom about that hidden place than she, its owner, did?
It didn’t matter. At least it didn’t right now.
Her cheeks felt so hot, but that was nothing compared to her heated woman-place.
“Why—why are you doing this?” she managed.
“You like it, don’t you?”
“Yes! Yes.” She tried to close her legs so she could trap his hand there, but he stopped her by bracing his elbow against the inside of her thigh.
“Sorry, Maia, but I’m not going to let you get off this easily. I’d be remiss in my responsibilities as your teacher if I did. It feels pretty damn good, doesn’t it? Somewhere between pleasure and pain.”
Some part of her pussy was trying to escape. She felt it throb and swell, and each time Taurus’ finger touched it, it took all her will not to cry out. Sobbing low in her throat, she leaned forward and pressed her breast against his hand.
“I take it that’s an answer in the affirmative.” As if rewarding her, he began working another finger inside her. It filled her, pushed her apart. She wondered if she could swallow all of him this way.
“Your seed-bearer…” After a half breath she tried again. “Your cock. When will you put it in me?”
“Soon, very soon. My god, I can’t believe I’m—do you feel that?” He flicked his finger over the part of her woman-place that was trying to escape.
“Yes!” Even with her eyes closed, her world was turning red.
“That’s your clit.”
“Cl-it?” What was happening to her? She felt out of control, rushing off somewhere she couldn’t fathom.
“Whoever designed us wisely decided that women deserved as much pleasure as men get. It works, doesn’t it?”
In a befuddled way, she knew he had asked a question, but she no longer knew where they were or where the world had gone. Something was scraping her skin and making it more and more sensitive. Everything centered around his fingers and his hand enveloping her hungry breast. Her pussy danced, jumped, jerked.
“There, there,” he said. “Let it come. It’s your cunt, Maia. Celebrate what it’s capable of.”
“Cunt?”
“Pussy.”
“I, ah—”
“Shh. Don’t try to talk. Let me do this for you.”
He hadn’t told her what this was, but she didn’t need him to. The strength went out of her arms, and she fell back onto the ground. She heard herself pant. Her pussy—cunt—had become like a small storm, making her slow to realize that he’d withdrawn his fingers. How could he leave her like—?
No, he was still there.
Limp as a newborn, she felt him grab her legs and place them around his waist. Then he scooted closer, and under his guidance, she lifted her buttocks.
His cock pushed against her pussy-cunt, but her labial lips were in his way. Rocking up, she used her fingers to push them aside.
Then he was in her, his cock swollen and possessive.
He began pushing as if determined to drive his cock all the way through her, and yet she couldn’t get enough of him. Reaching out, she found his thighs and dug her nails into them, urging him on. He bracketed her legs higher on his hips and drew her closer. With her body from the waist down off the ground, her movement was down to almost nothing, but he provided enough for both of them.
“Sex,” Taurus spit out. “Where I come from—” He plunged into her, hung there a heartbeat, retreated a little then plunged again. “This is called sex. Fucking.”
“I—I like fucking.”
“Just like?”
The two sacs behind his cock slapped against her bottom. She’d never heard that sound of flesh against flesh before. If someone had told her this would happen during mating—fucking—she would have wrinkled her nose in disgust, but now that it was happening—now that his cock filled her cunt, and her head felt like a drum being beaten, and she was on fire—
“I love fucking! Love it!”
He grunted something she didn’t catch. She didn’t ask him to repeat himself because she wouldn’t have been able to concentrate anyway.
She was running, her feet not touching the ground but skimming over it like a bird. Ahead of her, she spotted, felt, tasted even, a great ocean wave.
The wave slammed into her. Instead of cold sea water, she felt heat. Fire.
Fire!
Chapter Nine
Taron couldn’t be sure, but even bets were that he’d died and gone to heaven. He couldn’t remember how many times he and Maia had had sex since she’d first come on to him. He felt as if he’d been ridden hard and put away wet—in more ways than one—and yet if she opened her legs again, he’d do his damnedest to service her.
“Just call me stud studly,” he muttered. “Old and wrung out but still willing to give it another shot.”
Maia didn’t say anything. Maybe she was asleep, but he didn’t think so because with her head on his outstretched arm, and her naked body spooned against his, he was a pretty good judge of her condition. They’d both sweated like pigs during their mutu
al climax, but that had dried in the night air. Maybe she was starting to shiver.
No, not shiver.
“Maia, what is it?” he asked when she suddenly sat up.
“They come.”
Instead of asking who she was talking about, he forced himself into an upright position. Now that she’d drawn his attention to it, he could hear approaching footsteps, or more precisely, boots.
She scrambled to her feet and slipped her gauzy garment over her head. She was already fastening the dagger in place by the time he reached for his own clothes.
“We cannot stay here,” she said. “We must join the others.”
* * * * *
By others she’d meant the wise old men and others who’d been hanging around them earlier. The Lady was there too, as well as the other young women who he’d determined had been Maia’s fellow virgins although from their disheveled looks, he concluded that they’d all lost that distinction. Everyone was watching an approaching procession consisting of three men in long, dark robes followed by at least a dozen heavily armed soldiers. Granted, their weapons consisted of swords, knives, even a couple of axes, but next to the unarmed villagers, they looked formidable. Drums had beaten while he and Maia were having sex, but now they were silent.
“They’re the priests?” he asked Maia. “They don’t look happy.”
She indicated the nearby hills, each with its own fire. “They tried to forbid us to celebrate Bel-fire.”
“Pushy, aren’t they. What are they going to do?”
“I do not know.”
The fear in her voice put him on edge. Reacting instinctively, he reached into his pockets, but a wallet full of credit cards wouldn’t cut any ice here. The only other thing he found was the cigarette lighter he’d taken from Paul.
He was taller than most of the villagers and in darn good physical condition, if he did say so himself. Besides, his short hair, button-down shirt and slacks set him apart. He positioned himself near the old men and The Lady, uneasy because Maia was with him when he wanted her somewhere safe.
“Godless heathens!” the priests announced in unison the moment they reached the top of the hill. They all had walking sticks or staffs or whatever they wanted to call them and used them to point at the fire that was now little more than ashes. “This is the devil’s work!”
“Excuse me,” Taron said in his chairman-of-the-board voice. “What gives you the right to try to order these people around? In case you haven’t noticed, you’re in the minority here.”
One of the soldiers, a man who wore a metal helmet in addition to the breastplates the others had on, stepped closer. He aimed a spear with a sharp point at Taron.
“Silence, infidel!” he ordered. “You will not defy men of the cloth.”
“Who died and made you king?”
The soldier blinked and frowned. “The king is not above the priests,” he said. “Priests speak the word of truth and subservience. No one will defy them.”
“We do not defy. All we want is to celebrate spring as our people have done since the beginning of time.”
Taron had to hand it to The Lady. She didn’t sound at all intimidated.
“Silence!” one of the priests ordered. “No woman shall treat a man of the cloth with disrespect. You heathens do not understand. You are too simple. You must be taught—”
“Watch it,” Taron interrupted. “These aren’t dumb animals you’re talking to. Just because they don’t buy your nonsense doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Did it ever occur to you that you’re the ones barking up the wrong tree?”
This time all of the newcomers gaped at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. At least they weren’t telling him to take a hike—yet.
“Look,” he continued. “I just got here myself so I’m no expert, but Bel-fire means a great deal to these people. They’re not going to scrap it just because you and your thugs say they should.”
“Silence! Yours is the voice of the devil.”
Not interested in debating that, Taron indicated the fire. “Why didn’t you get here earlier? It’s almost out. Any chance you didn’t want to push your luck?”
“Silence!” the shortest priest ordered. “Our prayers came first. Only when we had received the word of the ruler of the universe could we turn his preaching into action.”
“Yeah, right.” Maia was tugging at his arm, but he didn’t let that distract him. “Why don’t you and your hired guns blow town? No one needs you telling them what to do.”
The helmeted soldier jabbed his spear at The Lady. The tip was only inches from her middle.
“Silence, heathens!” the short priest repeated. “Our weapons are the weapons of our lord and master. They will shed the blood of unbelievers and bring glory to our master.”
On the verge of telling the priests they were insane, Taron decided he was wasting his breath. There was no reaching people whose beliefs were so deeply entrenched that they wanted to kill anyone who didn’t agree with them. Besides, he hadn’t seen a single weapon among the Bel-fire celebrants. What were they, pacifists? If he’d been like that, his company would already be in enemy hands.
“The bonfire is almost burned down,” he said, his attention locked on the sharp tip now pressed against The Lady. He spoke to the villagers. “It’s going to be morning soon. Maybe—maybe we should just put it out, for now. Once we have these jokers,” he indicated the priests and soldiers, “off our backs, we can strategize. It’s not worth anyone getting killed.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old men exchange glances. Then they went back to studying the soldiers. The Lady stood there calm as could be. He could hear Maia’s uneasy breaths.
“Look.” He addressed the priests. “In my book, you’re bullies. You think you’ve got some divine right to march in and throw away generations of tradition and belief. What the hell good is it going to do to solve this with bloodshed? We, everyone who gives a damn, needs to sit down and present their views. Then we’ll reach a compromise, develop a strategy. That’s the way I run my business, it can be done.”
“The ruler’s ways must become law.”
The gibberish that had just come from the short priest’s mouth nearly set Taron off, but he knew nothing was going to be accomplished here until tempers had calmed down.
He turned to the onlookers, his gaze taking in The Lady and old men. “It’s a strategic move,” he told them. “We’ve not giving in. We’re not even compromising, but damn it, if there’s a battle right now, we’re not going to win. Extinguish those embers.”
“No!”
The last person he’d expected to disagree was Maia, but there she was, standing toe-to-toe with him.
“No,” she repeated. “That cannot happen!”
“Why the hell not? Maia, we’re talking about saving lives here.”
“Embers must be scattered among our crops to protect them. More must be taken by each household to light their hearth. And I—I must jump over them to ensure that I will have an easy birth.”
Every clan member within earshot was now nodding vigorously, but he couldn’t concentrate on that. “Easy birth,” he managed. “What are you saying?”
“I am with child. Your child.”
Just like that, he felt his world tilt. “You can’t know—we just—wait a minute!” Ignoring the onlookers, he hauled her so close that her features blurred. “What the hell is going on here? You told me—you said you were using protection. You tricked me.” Why the hell was he saying that?
“I did what My Lady said I must.”
She sounded so calm and confident that a little of his shock and outrage—if that’s what it was—dissipated. “You got me to fuck you so you could get knocked up, didn’t you? You lied—hell, even if you didn’t lie, you weren’t honest.”
She glanced at her flat stomach. “This is a child of Bel-fire. Conceived of you so even those who do not believe in our ways will understand that we are more than what they say we are—inf
idels. Our beliefs are strong. Right.” Still in his grasp, she stared at the priests. “This Bel-fire baby was conceived by a man from a time far in the future. By Taurus the bull.”
Shit. What is she saying?
“A heathen bastard!” the short priest insisted. “It cannot be. It must not!”
Although he was still reeling from what Maia had just said, Taron didn’t need to be hit over the head to realize things were getting out of control. The short priest was actually foaming at the mouth and shaking with fury.
“She can’t be sure,” he heard himself say. “Hell, she was a virgin the first time we had sex earlier tonight.” Or whenever all this started. “And I’m not Taurus. I’m a man some woman has tricked—”
“Not a trick, Taurus!” Maia interrupted. “If you do not want this child, I do not want you as its father. Go!” She yanked free. “We had sex. We fucked,” she told him. “And now it is done. Go!”
“Kill the bastard child!”
Taron whirled. To a man the soldiers stared at the short priest.
“Do not defy me!” the priest yelled. “Do the work of your lord and master. Rip the bastard from her belly.”
Not fully comprehending what he was doing, Taron positioned himself between Maia and the soldiers. Most continued to look uncertain, but two who put him in mind of TV wrestlers drew their knives. He quickly assessed his chances of knocking the weapons out of the soldiers’ hands and grabbing them himself—not good. Nevertheless, they’d have to go through him to get to her.
“Leave,” Maia hissed. “This is not your battle.”
Too late for that. “You can’t be serious,” he told the priests, but he was only stalling for time. “This is murder.”
“Who are you?”
About to give them everything including his social security number, it hit him that that wouldn’t get him anywhere. However—
“Taurus, the bull,” he announced. “Brought here because The Lady and clan elders were afraid something like this was going to happen. They needed a fighter, a bull.”
“Brought from where?”
Well, that’s a little hard to explain. “The future,” he said, not taking his eyes off the two wrestlers.
