by Jory Strong
She slid her hands down his sides, intending to remove the loincloth, but he grabbed her wrists and held them to the fur above her head.
"No," he said, lifting his mouth from hers, the rich waves of black hair a curtain on either side of his face.
Beads and bright feathers brushed against her cheeks, overlaying the present with the past in a burst of deja vu that made her think they'd been like this before, in another lifetime.
His eyes widened as if experiencing the same thing. He lowered his head and captured her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.
Her breath caught on a moan. Need pulsed between her legs.
His knees tightened against her hips to keep her from arching high enough to rub against him. He altered his grip, shifted so he could hold both of her wrists with one hand while the other moved to her breast, cupping it, worshipping it with his touch.
Please, she silently begged.
Ghost drums sounded in Ukiah's mind as ancient, long-dead ancestors joined their voices in a prayer for fertility rather than a healing song. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his chest and the need to take his mate intensified.
He slanted his mouth, penetrated hers with his tongue. His testicles were heavy, full, his cock pulsing in time to the mystical drum beat.
Images of other lives flew past with the swiftness of a falcon. Whispered voices called him by names his spirit had once answered to. And he, in turn, whispered the names he'd once called Marisa.
The tempo of the ghost music increased. Built and urged Ukiah to consummate the union. His chest filled with echoes of a long ago emotion, the fierce pride of ownership because she'd once been his captive, his war prize.
The drums and songs and whispered voices blended, so tightly knit he could no longer separate the man known as Ukiah from the ones who had come before or from the thunderbird who knew this woman was its mate and wanted to stake its claim.
He freed her wrists and kissed downward, reveling in the arch of her back, the offer of her nipple, the feel of her hands in his hair and softly moaned, Ukiah.
His. She was his. Had always been his.
He circled a nipple with his tongue, licked it into ripe, hard readiness, then kissed his way to her other breast. "Please," she said, her desperate neediness matching his, there in the sharp sting of fingers buried in his hair and tugging as if she would pull him into her very being.
He bit and sucked. His hands roamed over her breasts possessively exploring their fullness. He imagined them hanging free beneath her like ancient symbols of fertility as he took her on her hands and knees.
He kissed downward and buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her, filling his lungs with her unique scent. She whimpered and arched into him, a primitive plea for pleasure and protection. A submissive yielding as if she too was locked in a long ago role where she lived or died at his will.
Ukiah tilted his head so he could see her face. He wanted to watch her expression as he took the first taste of her, his tongue gliding along her lower lips, dipping into her slick channel in a primal claiming.
Her skin glistened, her eyelashes were delicate black crescents against taut skin. He wanted to command that she look at him but he couldn't bring himself to leave her silky, wet sex.
She gasped when he pierced her with his tongue, tightened her grip on his hair, her luscious breasts flushing a deeper color. He thrust again, and the muscles of her pussy clamped down, trying to draw him deeper even as she drowned him in arousal.
The cadence of the ghost drumbeat demanded that he thrust again, and again. His hips jerked in time to the press and retreat of his tongue. His cock throbbed, rigid and confined, making him as much of a captive as she was.
Her cries of pleasure filled the cave, drifting upward and rolling through time like supernatural thunder carrying a message, a scream of victory, a promise for the future.
Ukiah spread her thighs further, bent her knees and tilted her pelvis so that every inch of her was exposed, open, his to lick and suck. To fuck with his tongue.
Her clit was swollen, as rigid as his cock, its hood pulled back just as his foreskin was. "Please," Marisa said, her voice hoarse, her back bowed as she tried to force him to her clit. Her heart pounded so hard and fast that it made her think of drums beating on a dark night, of ancient fertility rites and gods so old they were no longer named.
"Please," she begged again. Her skin coated with a sheen of sweat.
Ukiah licked and she convulsed with pleasure, the icy-hot shards spearing through her, making her buttocks clench and her breath so scarce that she felt lightheaded. He closed his mouth around her clit and the tears came. Mixed with whimpers and cries as he sucked, hard and fast and aggressive.
He pinned her to the fur. Held her down as if she was his captive. The feathers and beads and silk of his hair made him seem primitive, savage. The shadows on the wall danced like some ancient people around a timeless campfire.
Over and over again he swirled his tongue across her clit and sucked. His lips firm, demanding as they pushed her higher and higher.
She came, shuddering and writhing. Ecstasy rolled through her like a fierce storm and she rode the pleasure until the last of it passed into short bursts of lightning and distant rumbles, leaving her feeling cleansed, calm, like the earth after a rain.
Ukiah's skin felt stretched tight. His cock screamed for release, the foreskin pulled back and the tip wet.
He wanted to cover her, get inside her.
He fought that desire. Taking care of her first had to come before his own needs.
His chest rose and fell in sharp pants. Only gradually did his heart slow as the mystic drum beats and singing faded.
He kissed his way up her body, cupped her breasts and lingered to suck before once again claiming her mouth. This time sharing the taste of her pleasure.
She wound her arms around his neck and that simple gesture filled him with a contentment he'd never known.
He rose to his knees, lifted her into his arms then stood. He carried her to the next cavern and crouched, easing her into a small pool of heated water.
Her eyes widened with surprise. "There are still volcanoes in this range," he said, though the water running down the wall and into the shallow pool was heated at his command, as was the cave.
It wasn't an ability he had in his mortal form, only in this one. When he was both thunderbird and man, a creation of belief and magic.
Ukiah reached for a crudely made bar of soap. "I can do it," Marisa said, her voice husky, low, nearly breathless.
"But I will do it." It was his right and nothing she said would dissuade him.
A blush stole into her cheeks and remained there. Her nipples beaded with the first touch of his soapy hands to her skin.
His. She was his. Had always been his.
He smoothed his palms over her neck, her shoulders, the slopes of her breasts, her arms. He stroked every inch. Cleaned every inch. Claimed every inch.
* * * * *
Chapter 3
Ukiah's touch was possessive, caring, so erotic that Marisa didn't want to ruin the moment with questions. But unwanted, that final glimpse of Kaitlyn turned incredible heat into piercing cold, and she shuddered.
"You're okay now," Ukiah said. "You're safe now."
He brushed his lips across hers, settling his mouth on hers. With the thrust of his tongue he drove back fear and uncertainty. With the sweep of his hands, he obliterated future and past. He turned icy shivers into tremors of heated need.
Her sex grew flushed and swollen. Her nipples and clit became tight, hard knots.
He rocked back on his heels and mesmerized her with his coal-black eyes and the erection that strained against his loincloth. She'd never had a man take care of her the way he had. She'd never had a man look at her the way Ukiah was looking at her, with a focus that claimed she was his everything.
She slid her hands along the muscles of his thighs, watched through lowered eyelashes as his
nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.
In his stillness, she felt the silent command to move higher, to free his cock and anticipation shivered through her. She reached the suede-like material stretched tightly over his erection.
Ukiah's fingers covered hers, guiding them, explaining without words how to remove the loincloth.
The garment fell away, revealing his length and thickness, his uncircumcised cock and heavy testicles.
She stared in fascination, licked her lips, only barely aware of his groan. She stroked his foreskin, explored what she'd only seen in studio models and finished art, untouchable examples of man as he'd been created by nature or god, or maybe both.
Desire became her heartbeat. Her sex throbbed, inner muscles clenching and unclenching as arousal beaded on the tip of his cock.
She curled her hand around his erection and he hunched forward, burying his fingers in her hair as she'd done earlier. Pulling her to him.
She rose from the shallow pool of steamy water and kissed his chest. His nipples. And they became hard, tiny peaks on a sculpted chest.
"Marisa," he whispered, and her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.
Happiness filled her. Joy. Something more than lust.
She brushed her mouth over his nipples again, then kissed downward. One hand cupped his testicles, while the other stroked up and down on his cock.
His hips moved to the rhythm she imposed on him. His breath came in short pants, making her feel powerful even as his fingers tightened on her hair and guided her mouth to his cock.
She nuzzled it, her tongue darting out. Tasting. Feeling. Learning him as he'd learned her.
Waves of jagged pleasure rippled through Ukiah. Spikes of painful ecstasy streaked from his cock to his heart like fractured bolts of lightning.
He was helpless in her hands. Unable to do anything more than pant, and shake, and hold her to him as she tortured him with her tongue, with her fingers and lips.
Beads of sweat rolled down his neck and chest. Every muscle in his body strained to remain still, afraid that any movement would shatter the last of his control and he would come in her mouth.
Her soft lips left his shaft and his hands tightened in her hair, intent on dragging her back. Only to stop with the feel of her tongue against his sac. It was like the sun's kiss, burning him with heat, then immersing him in a river of fiery sensation as she sucked first one testicle and then the other.
Ukiah bucked against her, his body strung so tightly that between one heartbeat and the next he'd reached his limit. "No," he said, the word so guttural it was barely recognizable. "No more."
He used the grip on Marisa's hair to pull her away from him. The drumbeats which had faded began again, only this time they were the thunder of his own heart.
He picked her up and carried her into the other chamber, lay her on the hides and came down on top of her. Pleasure gripped him in a savage fist.
His fingers intertwined with hers, holding her hands against fur as his thighs roughly opened hers and his cock found the slick wet heat of her opening.
He managed to hold himself at her entrance rather than plunge into her in a single fast, hard stroke. He met her gaze and then slowly, an inch at a time, gave himself to her—just as slowly, an inch at a time, he claimed her for his own.
"Ukiah," Marisa said, wrapping her legs around him, her fingers tightening on his as he pushed deeper, his name filling her soul as completely as his cock filled her channel.
His coal-black gaze commanded that she keep her eyes open, that she see the possessive way he gazed at her. Acknowledge his ownership.
He covered her lips with his and thrust. In. Out. In. Out.
Each stroke said mine.
Each stroke pushed her higher.
She moaned and whimpered and cried for him. Came for him and he swallowed down her sob of release. Pistoned harder, faster. And filled her with his semen.
The sound of their breathing was harsh and ragged. Loud in the small cave. It drowned out the drip of water and the crackling of the fire. Masked the far away droning, the continuous undertone that made Marisa think of chanting but was probably the sound of wind through rocks, or more ominous, deep shifts in the mountain range.
He rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms. And she'd never felt so safe, so cherished.
She cuddled against him, soaking in the warmth that radiated from his skin. He rubbed his cheek against her hair and she sighed in contentment.
Eventually she'd have to face reality, return to civilization and press charges against Ethan and Kaitlyn. It'd be her word against theirs. Except when it came to the money. If he'd stolen from the trust…
Ukiah brushed his hand along her spine. "How did you end up on these lands? When I was in Hohoq earlier today, no one mentioned there were visitors staying in town."
Hohoq? That was the name of the town where they'd stopped for lunch. And after they'd left, it had taken them hours to get to the campsite.
"We weren't staying in town."
"We?" A bronzed, muscled thigh covered her thigh, the possessive gesture creating a ripple of heat that moved through her stomach and then pooled in her sex.
"My brother and his girlfriend." She pressed more tightly to Ukiah. "Are we close to Hohoq?"
"Fairly close. There's a wider trail near the canyon rim. It leads there."
So she'd been heading in the right direction. She'd have made it to help if Kaitlyn hadn't caught up to her.
"So you were lost?" he asked, fingers skimming over her backbone.
"Yes." She captured one of Ukiah's narrow braids and found comfort in the feel of the smooth beads and soft feathers. "I was trying to get somewhere safe."
The overheard conversation. Running. The fall. It seemed like a nightmare now. Unreal. Unbelievable. Something that had happened to someone else. While this…being here with him… It felt like they'd always been together. Not in the same way as people who've known each other for years, but in the way of people whose souls were linked, who'd been together in another life.
She shivered, her mind shying away from thoughts of the thunderbird, from her torn, bloody clothing. From the possibility that in reality she lay dying.
Her hand clenched on his braid. Her heart stuttered.
No. This was real. This had to be real.
Ukiah released her and chill swept in as if in doubting she'd broken the fantasy.
She made a sound of protest. His laugh and the sunlight flash of his smile said this is real, this is completely real.
He stood and once again scooped her into his arms. "Back to the pool."
"How far are we from where you found me?"
"A football field's length, maybe a little more."
He carried her into the next chamber, stepped into the heated water then sat, positioning her so she straddled him. The water covered her legs and lapped at her lower back. The pool was only barely large enough to hold the two of them, but instead of feeling crowded, it felt intimate.
The soft caring in Ukiah's expression had her heart fluttering. She cupped his biceps, slid her hands over sleek muscle. "Tell me I'm not dreaming."
Masculine satisfaction flashed in his eyes. "I'm real. This is real."
He leaned forward, took her lips gently, his hands going to her breasts, cupping them, his thumbs teasing over her nipples so they ached for the feel of his mouth on them. She pressed against his erection, ground against his cock.
With a moan he ended the kiss. "Fantasy would be my lifting you and filling you. Reality is my asking why you left the path and tried to climb down the canyon wall."
"I was running from Ethan and Kaitlyn."
Ukiah's expression hardened. Eyes that'd held heated need became a raptor's deadly stare. "Why?"
"They brought me here to kill me." The hands on his biceps slid up and around his neck. She pressed her chest to his and hugged him tightly. "I got back to camp earlier than they expected and overheard them talking. I
ran. I almost did the work for them. If you hadn't found me…"
"Why do they want you dead?"
"Over money. I'll know more when I get back home. But for the last couple of years Ethan has been managing the money our father left me. At first I got a monthly allowance, but as my art started to actually pay for my apartment and anything else I needed… It was stupid not to pay attention, but Dad left Ethan the business. He trusted him with that. So I trusted Ethan too. I wanted to believe we were a family."
"You weren't close before?"
"Our father left his mother and married mine—while she was pregnant with me. So no, we weren't close when we were growing up. But after our father died…" She shrugged. "But maybe that was all pretend, even if I'd like to think Ethan changed because of Kaitlyn. That she somehow convinced him to do this for her."
Marisa took a shuddering breath. "They were planning on a rock-climbing accident. Only once we got here… There were so many images I wanted to capture on paper. And then when I saw where they wanted to climb… It made me feel scared. Maybe part of me guessed what they intended."
She closed her eyes and Ukiah speared his hands in her hair and tugged, the sharp little pain making her lift her face so that once again he could cover her lips with his.
This time his tongue coaxed hers, tempted it to enter his mouth so he could hold it, suck on it, a gentle offer of sympathy as well as an acknowledgement of the rawness of her emotions.
It was an offer of closeness and safe haven she accepted with the softening of her body, with the opening of her thighs and the press of her swollen lower lips against his erection.
He abandoned her hair in favor of grasping her hips and lifting her, settling her on his cock as he held her tongue captive in his mouth.
She was helpless against Ukiah's sensual assault. There was no protest in her mind. No thought other than to invite him further into her body, their movements synchronized to his sucking on her tongue, his thrusts so subtle that the water barely rippled and yet each thrust sent shards of white-hot pleasure through her clit. Each slide of his cock made her desperately hungry for the next.
