"Right now, Jacob, I think your fingers would please me more."
He laughed in delight, “Ever honest, I like that best about you.” Dabbing his fingers in the soap pot, he lightly massaged the slick concoction into the curled wet fur covering her mound. His other hand explored the crease at the top of each thigh, knuckles brushing against that part of her body that wept for his touch. As he slicked between her folds to encircle the tight bud hidden there, a long finger dipped into her slit with tiny thrusts.
Saka wanted more than his finger, but the way her body quivered and tightened around the thick digit worried her. Would she be able to take him inside her body? The thought made another wave of hot fluid rain over his thrusting finger and her breath caught in her throat. She nearly shot out of the tub when cool water washed over her mound causing the hot bud to pucker and throb with more sensations. Deep inside, she felt her body pull Jacob's finger deeper, gripping it as wave after wave of ecstasy blew through her body like a hot wind, robbing her of strength. Whimpering, she nearly collapsed.
"No, not yet.” he urged, “That was but a taste of what we will share. Let me show you my dream.” Standing up, he put her arms around his neck and cupped her buttocks, directing her to put her legs around his body the way she'd ridden her stallion. Moving from the tub, he returned her to her feet, slowly grinding the thickness of his erection along the wet skin and fur of her mound, earning another guttural gasp of pleasure. She was nearly his height. He loved the way their bodies fit together standing.
Banding an arm across her lower back, he slid the other hand between her thighs. Remembering the bliss his fingers brought, Saka eagerly parted her legs. This time he lifted her leg in his arm, holding the knee in the crook of his elbow. Teasing her lips with his own, Jacob watched her light blue eyes darken and cloud over as his rod rocked against her mound, then lower at the entrance of her slit.
It was pleasure bordering on pain to feel the blast of heat from her body coating the head of his turgid flesh. He rocked his hips, thrusting until his cock slid in and stopped, blocked by the evidence of her lack of experience. Then it hit him, the men of her tribe truly had found her unnatural in her ‘sex’ and never considered that below the breasts she would have the body of a woman.
Saka nearly screamed in frustration. Her body was stretching painfully to accept him but it hurt so good. “Jacob,” she pleaded, “Why have you stopped?"
"I don't wish to hurt you and this first time will hurt.” His voice was strained.
"Then let the pain come because I ache for want of it.” She wriggled, trying to push down and he groaned at the feel of her core sucking at his cock, drawing him in deeper. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder and thrust upwards, hard.
Saka tensed as pain tore through her lower body. Oh did it tear and ache, but she recalled her first ride on Darghu, when her legs ached and her body soared in elation. Leaning back against the arm banded across her lower back, she gripped his shoulders and arched, sliding her standing leg along his until she caught his hip and gripped tight. Mindful of the howling storm of feelings and emotions ripping through her body, Saka slid up and down the flesh that impaled her, the walls of her core gripping his sleekness as a burn built under her skin, ripping through her from the soles of her feet to exploding colors behind her eyes.
Feeling Saka writhe around him was more than Jacob could handle. A part of his mind fell away and he dropped to his knees, leaning backwards, thrusting up and into her again and again as her tight sheath fisted around him, until his body bucked against hers, pouring his release deep inside her body. Gasping for air, he dropped sideways, clasping her tight and rolled to his back, keeping his softening sex deep inside her body to enjoy the clenching aftershocks of her enjoyment.
Splayed over his chest, Saka gave in to an impulse that had tempted her far too long and swept her tongue over first one then the other of Jacob's nipples. Inside her body, she felt his sex shudder and twitch. “Is this always how the act of love is done?"
"No, but your back is injured,” he answered as his heart stopped trying to escape his chest.
"Ah, I had seen some of the men taking their women as a stallion services a mare and wondered."
Erotic images of cupping her breasts, rolling the thick nipples in his fingers as he thrust in and out made him go hard.
She grinned wickedly, “I can tell that you like that idea too.” Her lips trailed along his chest to his throat as she took him deeper within herself, sliding her legs wide apart on either side of his hips. “But I like riding. I can sit the saddle for days.” Sitting up, she teased him with the rolling motion he'd observed when she rode her pony at a gallop.
The weight of her breasts called to him and he cupped them, rolling and tugging at the nipples as she lifted and moaned. Her eyes looked wild and confused as she slowed. “Keep going.” He bent his knees and trust upwards, encouraging her ride. Saka arched her back and gripped his wrists, leaning into the feelings he aroused in her breasts. With every tug on her nipples, an arrow of heat slammed through her body. She tried to pace her hips to match the tempo of his fingers but he seemed to delight in having her wild and out of control. Crying out, she felt her body spasm as heat and light singed her from the inside out. From a distance, she heard him call out his own pleasure as he bucked under her swaying hips, sending another, hotter spike of heat through her body.
Gasping, they lay on the floor, replete. The sound of Jacob's heart under her cheek went from loud and swift to deep and strong. Sleep pulled at her but there were still questions. It was always this way after battle. The moment she lay to rest, afterimages would replay, some for hours.
"You may be able to ride for days, but I think this time we need sleep,” Jacob's voice rumbled with amusement under her ear. Saka lacked the strength to argue, let alone fool with bedding; she lay on him and allowed him to tuck clean scented sheets around their bodies.
"Something bothers me, Jacob.” He went still. When he didn't ask, she pushed on through the exhaustion. “Why did some of your people fight with the Seleucid men? That man who made the brooms, he stood along the Hellene forces as did the one that cooks the strange fruit drinks as well as the furniture maker."
Jacob's body relaxed so suddenly it almost hurt; he thought she had come to regret their time together already. “Not all of Judah hated the idea of blending with the Hellenes. They made good money with the Hellenes and saw no shame in abandoning the way we have lived for thousands of years.
"The others want to keep our faith pure. Since we lack the wealth and power of the ones favored by the Hellenes, we were forced to watch our Temple be defiled and were forced to watch as the faithful were killed on the Temple steps.” He stroked her uninjured shoulder and felt the difference in her breathing as she slid towards sleep.
"In a few days, perhaps a week if the Maccabeus are successful, there will be a battle to retake the Temple before we can perform Hanukkah or a dedication."
Her breathing leveled out and he lay awake, thinking.
Chapter Twelve
Fever gripped Saka for the next four days. Despite her desire to get up to the roof and protect Jacob, she lay face down, sweating and delirious.
It was a hard time for Jacob, his loyalties were split between wanting to stay and nurse Saka around the clock and the duties he owed to the community. He toiled for hours, saying prayers over the dead, dying and more. He couldn't neglect his duties to his family.
Through it all, the battle raged on but so did the rain. The soupy streets and wild storms at sea kept the Hellenes from sending in the much needed reinforcements needed to keep Judah under Seleucid rule. The more that fell, the closer the Maccabeus’ troops came to retaking the Temple.
On the fifth day Saka woke, as wobbly as a colt on new legs. Through her illness she had spoken often of a fire, a burning and Jacob wondered if it was the illness consuming her or guilt over the loss of the Rabbi. Then she stumbled out, dripping water from a hasty bath and co
llapsed in the dining area.
"The fire, the light from your God, has it come yet?"
Jacob sat slack-jawed for a moment before answering no.
"It will come and you must be ready, we must both be ready.” She gratefully clutched a cup of water set in front of her then groaned. “Darghu."
"He's been fed and cared for.” Jacob slid some bread before her, hoping her stomach would hold it down.
"Has your brother been named?” Again he was astonished she remembered the detail.
"Not yet, in three days time we will hold the berit milah and he will be named.” He wasn't sure what he had said that made her sunken eyes take on a bruised look, but she stared blindly into space as her fingers tore the bread into small hunks.
"That will be the day the fire comes, that is the day you will be called on. I must be ready. I'm needed on the hill of the Temple.” It didn't matter the arguments, Saka turned a deaf ear to them all—even ones from Moshe forbidding her to leave the house as his slave.
"You can't hold me,” was all she would say as she picked up her bow, dagger and battle axe, slinging an impressive assortment of arrows onto her back.
"Saka, please.” The simple plea from Jacob almost pulled her back into the house. Instead she turned, pulled him close, held his cheek to hers and promised to return to him each night.
Having her leave to join the battle was worse than worrying about losing her to fever. Jacob went about his duties with worry of Saka's safety dragging at his heels. Even more worrisome was her visions of fire. She refused to speak on the subject beyond that one time.
The first night she returned, she was exhausted to the point of collapse. She barely managed to remove her clothes and take a rough bath before falling into a deep sleep. In the middle of the night, her hand on his shoulder woke him, pulling him from dreams fraught with worry to one of succor in her embrace. When morning came, if it weren't for the scent of her on his skin, like the rain and wind, he would have thought even that a dream.
Stumbling home the second night, she wasn't as bone weary and managed to give the men of the family a rough update—if the battle progressed as it had the Maccabeus would retake the Temple by the next nightfall. It was unsettling, the way she turned and looked at Jacob, reminding him that he would be needed.
The day of the berit milah dawned with a watery light. The rain had yet to cease but was starting to abate. A small feast for afterwards was quickly prepared and the main gathering area readied. True to her word, Saka stayed to watch.
The room was swept clean and decorated with swaths of Naomi's finest white fabrics. A small stand was readied by Moshe and Jacob tried to explain as best he could what would take place. He was a little concerned that she would see the ritual as hurtful to the child but had to cough to cover a laugh when she lit up, finally understanding just how his manly parts were different from the others she had seen. He wasn't about to explain that comment to his family so he made a weak excuse.
Before the babe was brought out, Penina tried one last time to corner Saka and force her into revealing her name. Jacob was horrified.
"Everyone has a name.” Penina cornered Saka, speaking fluently in Rus, a language Jacob stumbled over badly. He never knew that was how she had managed to harangue Saka.
She tugged at her braid, appearing irritated. “I've thought on this long and hard. I was young when my mother died, but I can honestly say she had no name for me. She sang to me at night and told me stories of growing up in mountains. Perhaps she spoke of Siberia, I believe we were there for a while. There were dunes of burning cold whiteness called snow. But the camp moved to the south, over the mountains into the deserts."
The mention of the white dunes stunned Jacob into silence. Why would he have dreamt of such a place? Far from mollifying Penina, the answer only angered her. “Then what did the men of the camp call you?"
"Dog,” she muttered, staring past the other woman with a look that promised death.
"Dog?” Penina's nose wrinkled as she posed the word like a question.
"Because it amused them to watch me fight them for food scraps. Are you content now?” The color of Saka's eyes grew light and cold, reflecting her tone and stance.
"At least you could share your mother's name,” Penina huffed. “Then you could at the least be given a proper name.” That stalled Saka for a moment.
"I can be given a name? What is wrong with the one I took for myself."
"It isn't Hebrew.” The answer visibly staggered the warrior woman.
"Knowing my mother's name would help with that?” When Penina nodded, Saka scratched her forehead in thought. “She never said to me ‘my name is’ but the men who favored her bed called her Siny."
At that moment Moshe and Naomi entered the room, carrying the fussy baby. For the first time since she walked in the door, Hadassah's child, Elisheva, was hushed, much to Saka's obvious enjoyment. The smile had wickedness to it but softened her face.
As Moshe settled the child on Yigol's lap, Penina pulled Jacob to the side. “It worries me this woman you have taken up with. She has no name and her mother is only known by the word meaning ‘stranger.’”
Jacob pulled away with an angry retort, “This is not the time or place for such a discussion. Our history is full of instances where our leaders have married non-Jews, including he who delivered us from bondage! Saka is my sivug, my soul-mate. You will be done with this."
* * * *
The room filled with family, then friends of the family, and finally with those that wished the family well, so Saka gave up her position at the front of the room to stand just outside the entrance. It seemed more fitting as she was an outsider, but it hurt that no one noticed that she was pushed out, with the exception of Jacob.
As if a gong were rung the room dropped into silence and prayers begun. Watching the solemn faces, she allowed herself a half-smile that such an important event would have the least number of prayers recited yet. It had confused her to no end when Jacob tried to explain, but in the end it didn't matter and she silenced him the way she knew best, with a kiss.
The thing she was most curious about, the removal of the foreskin, would have upset Moshe and Naomi if she gawked. The actual event passed so quickly she missed it, unlike the wailing child. In an instant his lips were wetted with wine and he was handed to his mother and subsided from crying. Saka nodded, she'd stayed long enough. The part that raised her curiosity was over. Not understanding the language meant she would have to find out later what name Jacob felt best suited this new child of the Kohanim.
* * * *
Jacob finished the blessings and addressed the crowded room. “I know many of you are wondering at the name selected for the child. It has been many generations since the name Nuriel appeared in our families. The last man who bore that name honored our line by becoming a fine religious leader and judge.
"With life there is a balance, a life comes for one taken. That the name means ‘fire’ is not meant to serve as a reminder of misfortune but as one of inspiration. May the Maccabeus be successful this day in the retaking and rededication of the Temple Mount so we can all see the light of the Menorah from our homes and feel the fire of Elokim in our hearts."
Chapter Thirteen
Jacob stood on the roof, holding the pieces of the bow that Saka had started making. The sun was beginning to slant away from the Temple Mount and through the distance he could see the figures milling below but couldn't tell if they were warring or celebrating.
The nights she fought, she had made it home before full-dark so he stood on the roof, watching and waiting. For the first time in his life, he fully understood the worry in his mother's heart. He had only waited on Saka for a mere three days; Naomi had waited on the men of her family for decades.
"It isn't easy, is it mother?” His lips twisted painfully as the soft perfume Naomi favored carried on the breeze past his nose.
"No, it isn't easy.” She put an arm around his waist and l
eaned close. “I worry for your attachment to this Saka.” When he tensed and made to pull away, she held tight. “I worry not for you or for her but for your children and your children's children."
Letting go, Naomi stepped away and reached for Jacob's hand. “You know as well as I that being of the Kohanim and a holy man as well, a non-believer is forbidden as a wife.” Lifting a hand, she forestalled the argument, “Even a convert is forbidden. It is not you who will suffer Jacob, or Saka, but your children. They will forever be seen as defiled and treated as such.” Squeezing his hand, she reasoned, “From what you've told me, she suffered greatly as a child—do you think that is what she would want for any children you would create?"
His heart numb, Jacob stepped away knowing too well the truth. “Saka hopes to be one of our community. To this end she has learned a great deal in a small amount of time, even our language.” He tried to smile, but his heart wasn't it in. “I cannot believe that God would put the other half of my heart and soul into one forever denied to me."
"Perhaps,” Naomi tenderly cupped her middle son's face, “perhaps that is the test before you—to decide which is more important your people or your love. A great sacrifice was asked of Abraham."
"Yes, but though he was willing, Elokim stopped him from killing his son.” He stared at the Temple Mount where the sky was darkening in anticipation of night. “I cannot see how I could get such a reprieve."
"You, girl! Hold!” Saka was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl home, bathe and join Jacob on his pallet. The Maccabeus soldiers went from staring at her in confusion to open welcome as her skills earned her a reputation in the battle for the Temple Mount. In the aftermath, it was a bit unsettling how they treated her, as if she had fallen from the sky to their aid.
"I think the Old One means you.” A tired fighter dropped his lance, barring her way. She considered ignoring both but relaxed the grip on her axe and turned, leaning on her spear. The man that stood there was more than unexpected, he was a revelation. Tall, obviously blind in one eye from an old battle wound that slashed his face from hairline to jaw; he had a single bright blue eye.
Babes in Toyland II Page 19
