Searching the Darkness (Erythleh Chronicles Book 2)

by Catherine Johnson

  Elthrinn's head rubbed against his palm as she confirmed his statement with a nod.

  He was struck by the responsibility that had been laid on his shoulders, but his masculine pride surged. He would have to be careful, the happiness of their life together from this night onwards rested solely on his actions, but Gorren couldn't deny his thrill at the thought that when Elthrinn was his, she would be wholly his, only his.

  "Trust me, Rinn."

  He'd taken her instigation of the kiss to mean that she approved of him using the abbreviation of her name, and she didn't correct him now. She only nodded, and whispered, "I do."

  Gorren bent his head again, and again brushed his lips against hers. He deepened the kiss when she gasped, and slipped his tongue between her lips to taste her. This time she didn't retreat. At first she was quietly passive, allowing him to do as he would. At the first shy lap of her tongue against his, Gorren thought he might well spend in his trews. When he didn't pull back or chastise her, Elthrinn grew bolder.

  Almost before he knew what he'd done, Gorren had cupped Elthrinn's face in both hands, feeling the skeins of her hair slip through his fingers. But he didn't need to be the one pulling her close anymore. Her own small hands were clutching fistfuls of his coat, and she was pulling him to her, as much as he wanted to pull her to him.

  Eventually though, the irritating need to draw breath asserted itself.

  Without speaking, Gorren slid his palm from Elthrinn's cheek, down the slender column of her neck, over the two rings that rested on her collar bones, over her bare shoulder, and down her unadorned arm until he could catch her fingers in his. Although it was almost physically painful for him to do so, he stepped back, but he pulled her with him. He walked backwards until he felt his legs hit the bed. Elthrinn had been gazing into his eyes, too intent on looking at him to realise their destination. Before she could see, and allow her fear to grip her, he spun her around.

  It was a most distracting thing to take the full sweep of Elthrinn's hair, and move it over her shoulder so that it rested on her chest. Gorren knew that there would be many hours in their future when he would happily sit and brush her hair until it shone.

  He trailed one fingertip down the indent between her shoulder blades until further progress was denied by her dress. Elthrinn shivered. Gorren knew, thanks to the steady fire that had been lit in the hearth, that she was not cold.

  The lacings frustrated him. He found the knot, and untied it fairly quickly, but then he had to slip the ribbons free of the holes, and there were so many holes, and it seemed to take so long, and the dress never seemed to be loose enough until...

  With a flurry of greenery, and a puff of the scent of meadows, the whole garment collapsed around Elthrinn's knees.

  Knowing she would be shy, and caring not at all, Gorren allowed his palms to sweep freely over her ribs and hips, over her back, and arms. He wanted to memorise every curve for the lonely nights when he would be far from home. His cock, already impatient, responded immediately to the sight of her, so pale, and marvellous, and perfect. Seeing the slight tremble in her knees brought him back to his senses. Gorren turned, and threw back the multitude of furs and blankets that covered the bed.

  "Rinn." His voice was barely more than a rasp. When he pulled her arm, she turned, but kept her body from him, until she climbed onto, into, the bed. Before he could see more of her than he already had, she was shyly pulling the covers up to her shoulders. He'd allow her some modesty, but not for long.

  He began to shed his clothes, not caring where they landed. He only tried not to seem like a fool; he didn't want to stumble in his haste. He was efficient with his movements, desperate to join her, to be able to feel her, all of her.

  Eventually, he was blessedly naked. Gorren slipped onto the mattress next to Elthrinn, and pulled the coverings over them both. She had kept her eyes downcast as he had discarded his clothing. She did not look at him until the covers concealed them both. The bed was set into an alcove in the eaves. Someone would be sleeping against the wall, and would have to climb over their companion to get out, but it was cosy. The carved balustrades around the sides and top provided a half-screen from the room. He had Elthrinn trapped in a cave of fur, and wool, and polished pinewood. He intended to keep her there, but only if she permitted him to.

  Faced with such bounty, such temptation, a lesser man would have fallen like a ravening beast. But this was Elthrinn, his bride; she was his to cherish. Gorren breathed deeply. The scent of her body was like a drug, it made his head spin, it confused his thoughts, but in his soul it brought him peace. By rights, the frantic pace of her heart, her subservience, and deference, should have stirred his wolf. It all amounted to proof that she was not his equal, but the fragrance of her skin was undeniably that of his mate, a thing to be treasured, and protected.

  Gorren turned to his side, and rested on one elbow. Elthrinn was lying on her back, determinedly not touching anything, or looking at anything other than the short-furred pelt that was the topmost of their blankets. Gorren brought his hand clear of the covers, and caught a lock of Elthrinn's hair between his fingers. When he pulled it loose, he let his knuckles graze her cheekbone as they passed. She looked at him, and he saw her courage there, peeking through.

  He released her hair, and laid his palm on her shoulder. When he smoothed his hand down her arm, his own arm pushed the blankets away from her body. Gorren didn't think he'd ever seen a more wondrous, more tempting sight. Elthrinn's hands were clasped on her stomach, which left the rest of her free to his gaze. He brought his palm to the base of her neck, letting it rest along her collar bones just under the silver rings that were her only jewellery. Elthrinn was very much looking anywhere but his eyes. Gorren let his hand move of its own will, down over her chest, to cup one perfect breast. When he stroked his thumb over the pretty pink nipple that had tightened from exposure, and he dared to hope arousal, Elthrinn gasped.

  He wanted to tell her to trust him. He wanted to tell her again that he wouldn't hurt her. But he couldn't. He would be lying. He wanted very much to bring her pleasure, but some pain would be an unavoidable part of their night. But he would bring her as much pleasure as he possibly could, up to, and after that point. Gorren leaned down and kissed Elthrinn, making their embrace the oath of all the promises he badly wanted to give her.

  Gorren felt Elthrinn's confidence growing with every passing moment. When she slipped her dainty hands over his torso, when she set her nails into the muscles of his shoulders, when she arched against him, pressing herself against his body, he knew that his promises would not be lies.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gorren's kiss was intoxicating, more so than the wine she'd drunk. The alcohol, which had made her warm and brave, had worn off long ago. Now she was drunk on Gorren's scent. There wasn't any aspect to it that she could name; it was solely, undeniably, unique to him. He kissed her like he meant to devour her, his need evident in the constant, low rumbling growl that she doubted he was aware he was making. His skin was softer than she would have believed, but marred with the evidence of his life as a soldier. One scar, long, and wide, and obviously the most recent among many, was slick against her questing fingertips. The muscles in his shoulder jumped involuntarily when she traced the thin line.

  She needed to breathe, although she would happily have drowned in the kiss. She pulled back, gasping, and only then, still courageous with this new fire scorching her veins, did she look at her new husband. Gorren was lithe, but she could see now the ridges of the muscles that provided his strength. Much of the detail was disguised by the artwork that permanently decorated his skin. There was a library of images, all seemingly unrelated, but which must have held meaning to have been chosen. One day, she hoped to have the leisure of examining each and every one, but now Gorren's palm was sliding over her hip, intimating that he wanted her to lie bare to his gaze again. Feeling braver than she had before, she complied.

  "Perfect," he whispered, and then he
bent his head to her breast.

  His beard tickled her in the most wonderful ways that she had never even imagined. It caressed her lips when they kissed, it whispered against her flesh, a tantalising, mesmerising sensation. He was suckling at the peak of her breast, drawing every nerve into that tip, and setting it alight. Elthrinn lost the ability to think completely.

  She felt bereft when Gorren released her breast, only to feel elation when he turned his attention to its twin. She buried her fingers in the sweep of his hair, and wondered if they could stay, just as they were, forever.

  When Gorren's hand pressed at the juncture of her thighs, when her legs instinctively parted to allow him access, when he slid his hand higher, and higher still... Elthrinn began to think that forever might not be enough time.

  She gasped, unable to engage the portion of her brain that would have provided words. Gorren's fingers were teasing against a place that she had hardly dared touch herself, and the feeling was divine. Her body wept slick tears as it cried out for his. And then he was pressing further, into her, and... was it one finger... was slipping and sliding inside, and his thumb was catching a point on her body that must have been filled with lightning. Elthrinn cried out. She had no idea if her plea was an actual word, if Gorren had understood it. And then, when the world seemed about to become immeasurably sharper, his hand was gone, and he was moving.

  Elthrinn wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but she didn't think that Gorren moving down the bed was it. All the blood she possessed rushed to her face with such speed that she felt dizzy.

  "Gorren?" She hadn't meant to whimper, but her voice had deserted her.

  "Ssshh. Let me."

  His smile, when he looked up her body at her, was wicked. It promised sinful things as he manoeuvred himself between her legs. She had no choice but to make room for him, and then...

  "Oh! Your beard...," she gasped. That sweet brush on the inside of her thighs made her want to curl up, and stretch out all at once. She'd had no idea it could feel like that.

  Gorren grinned a grin that was wolfish, and predatory, and all the things that she should have been afraid of. Then he dipped his head...

  At the first lap of his tongue against that so sensitive skin, Elthrinn's spine bowed so hard she almost completely sat up. Gorren placed a forearm over her stomach, and pushed. Reluctantly she acquiesced, and lay down, but she could not keep still.

  "So sweet. Rinn, you're so sweet." Gorren murmured against her flesh without raising his eyes. She heard the words as a whisper through her body, as much as through his voice.

  His tongue was working dark magic. His fingers were digging into her hips to keep her from writhing away from him. Elthrinn needed something to hold onto, she was about to fly apart. Unable to find anything else, she gripped Gorren's wrists, feeling the sinews flex and twist as he fought to control her disobedient body.

  "Gorren, please. Please, Gorren. Please. please. PleaseGorrenpleasepleasepleaseGorren please."

  Elthrinn gasped the litany without realising she was speaking, until the world exploded within her, and she shrieked. The sparks hadn't yet finished pricking her skin when she felt an immense warmth covering her. She opened her eyes, which she hadn't realised she'd closed, to find Gorren holding himself over her.

  He kissed her. His beard swept against her lips, wet from her body. It should have been strange, she was sure that should have been strange, but she couldn't think so. She squirmed against the searing heat of his shaft that was resting, stiff yet patient, against that point of her body. Her fear was tempered by a need for something, anything, although she couldn't name the thing she was desperate for. Elthrinn returned the kiss, trying to tell him in a language that didn't need the words she didn't have, how beautiful the feeling had been.

  His body moved. She was uncomfortable, she needed to make room for him, so she wrapped her legs around his hips. And then... then... she couldn't describe... the pressure, the stretch... feeling so full... and suddenly pain.

  Elthrinn broke the endless kiss. "Gorren!"

  Gorren rested his forehead against hers as they both struggled for breath. "I'm sorry, Rinn. So sorry, so sorry." He whispered over, and over, and over. But even as he was apologising, he began to move again. His body slid in and out, over and against hers, until the pain was forgotten. Her own body matched his movements, instinctively demanding more.

  Elthrinn wrapped her arms around Gorren's back. She felt like she might fly out of this perfect reality. He pulled her body up against his, wrapping her in strong arms, until all she could feel was the thrusting of his shaft, and the play of the muscles that surrounded her and anchored her.

  "Rinn!" His voice was rough rasp. His breath was hot and heavy at her ear. His beard tickled her shoulder.

  He held her away, just enough to be able to see her. Elthrinn thought she understood what she was seeing in his eyes, she hoped it was mirrored in her own. They were rocking together, sliding, arching, thrusting... Then the rhythm changed, Gorren sped up the movement of his hips. Everything was frantic, and uncontrolled, and beyond... until the world exploded again.

  ~o0o~

  Elthrinn woke slowly. The knowledge came to her, honed from half a lifetime of waking up with the dawn, that it was much later than that. She wasn't alone in the bed; a body was curled around her. The memories of the night before returned in a vivid rush that tore a gasp from her. She stretched, and gasped again as her body reminded her of the use it had suffered.

  "Morning."

  The gruff, rumbling chuckle at her ear made her twitch and clench. The arm over her stomach tightened, and she found herself tucked more snugly against the body behind her.

  Elthrinn smiled, knowing that Gorren couldn't see it, but that he would hear it in her voice. "Morning."

  Gorren nuzzled past her hair, and pressed a kiss to the spot just above her neck rings. Elthrinn squirmed. She didn't want him to release her, she wasn't uncomfortable, she wasn't sure what she wanted, but she needed...

  That rough chuckle came again at her ear. "Easy, wife."

  Elthrinn startled at the sound of her new title, and at the feel of the insistently solid shaft of muscle that was pressing against the back of her thighs.

  "Husband." Again, she knew that Gorren would hear her humour in that single word. She flexed again, and the arm around her waist tensed.

  "Easy, Rinn." Gorren murmured. "I've barely any control."

  "Do you need control?"

  "Yes. By the Grey Wolf, yes." I don't want to make you hurt. It's too much, too soon."

  Elthrinn writhed again. "It doesn't feel too soon."

  That chuckle rumbled again. "Wait until you try to walk before you say such things."

  Elthrinn had no idea what Gorren was talking about, but nothing that he was saying lessened the yearning that was beginning to build.

  "Please."

  She hated that she was begging, but she couldn't give up her quest for relief.

  "Very well."

  She thought he would turn her, but Gorren moved only his arm. He stroked her thigh with the lightest touch that did nothing to ease her. He curled his fingers around her knee, and lifted her leg to hook it over his. Then his fingers were delving, exploring, seeking, stirring. The yearning that had been building began to glow.

  Elthrinn tried to keep still. She didn't want to do anything that might make Gorren stop what he was doing. She didn't want to interrupt the blissful feeling that he was creating... the pressure, the slick, slippery slide...

  "That's it." The hoarse whisper floated over her. "Come for me."

  She couldn't resist the sweet demand.

  ~o0o~

  When Elthrinn next opened her eyes, she knew it was the early morning; not before dawn, but not far past the breaking of the day. This time she wasn't surprised by the feel of the body curled around hers, or the pleasant aches and strains in her muscles and deeper places. She sighed, and let her body relax into a liquid puddle of contentment.
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  Both she and Gorren had attempted to leave their bed the day before. Eventually, sometime after waking, they'd risen, and washed with the intention of dressing and spending some time in the fresh air. But at some point during the washing they'd become distracted, and having made a thorough mess of the water closet, they'd found themselves back in the bed.

  Gorren had been right. Although she'd been perfectly comfortable in their bed, when lying down, when she'd risen and had tried to walk, she'd felt a sharp soreness. For the full day, he'd refused to touch her with more than his hands, or his mouth. Although satisfied to the point of drowsiness, Elthrinn had still felt a strange need to demand more of him.

  At several points during the day, not always opportune times, a knock at the door had heralded the arrival of food. Gorren had surmised that his mother had been the instigator of the deliveries. Elthrinn felt awkward about that, and blushed to think of the next time that she would speak to Rehan. Gorren seemed to find her flushing skin particularly charming, and had generally done something that had distracted her from her uncomfortable thoughts shortly thereafter.