Her hands covered his face in wonder, touching, caressing, wandering over his chin, his eyes, his cheeks. An inhaled hiss escaped him as she grazed over the bruises left by the heavy-handed Derrick. Incoherent, choked words streamed from her mouth as freely as the tears from her glorious, disbelieving eyes, resolving finally into “Dead. I thought you dead. How? How?”
He knew the same incredulous amazement. “Are you hurt, Sophi? Who took you? How did you get away?”
His eyes raked her form and his hands ran over her shoulders and down her arms as if she was a horse he checked for injury. Finding none, he ran his hands up her body to cup her face. He bent and pressed his forehead and nose against hers, inhaling the wonderful smell of her before once again pulling her in tightly to his chest. “By the Goddess, woman, you have no idea how I feared for you,” he whispered hoarsely.
Sophi arched back to hold him transfixed with tearful eyes. “You! You feared for me? I saw you die, Eric! I went out of my mind with grief!” She pulled out of his grasp, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve. “You owe me an explanation!”
“I don’t know that I have one you will believe,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t believe it, in your place.” He glanced up at their observers. With a sniff and a long, shuddering inhale, Sophi turned to Primus G’hed.
“Stepfather, may we use your tent?” The Primus considered them for a long moment. With a small smile, he nodded. “You may have it as long as you like. You will not be disturbed.”
Unwilling to release her totally, Eric held Sophi’s hand as she led him toward the small tent set well away from the main camp. Entering, Eric turned to her and grasped her other hand, holding both close to his chest. In the growing light of the half-dawn he could see what darkness had hidden—dark shadows under the glorious aqua eyes, sunken hollows beneath her high, sculptured cheekbones, scabs on her full mouth where her lips had dried and split. There was never an abundance of you to begin with. What have you been through, my love? “Shall I start?”
Sophi nodded, never taking her eyes from his.
“Simply put, Mother Verdantia healed my body and brought me back to life.”
Sophi frowned and shook her head. “I saw you die. Eric. I have seen enough dead things to recognize death when I see it.”
“You would not have been wrong to think so,” Eric responded. “I died. I don’t know how long I lay on that forest floor, but when I regained consciousness, a dozen crossbow quarrels lay around me and I was very much alive.” He kissed the backs of her hands. “I don’t know how She did it. I was conscious in Her presence and She said, ‘The Power of the Two will serve me. Survive.’.” He shook his head, wondering yet again at the other-worldly results.
“So you did,” Sophi said. Incredulity and then a dawning awe crossed Sophi’s face. “During the rites, back in the village of Silver Grove, She spoke of ‘the Power of the Two.’ I was right. It is us. You and me,” Sophi said. She touched her hand to his chest and then to hers. Her eyes examined his clothed body intently. She ran her hands over him much as he had done to her. “Your injuries don’t linger? You are whole? Healed?”
“Look.” He slipped his thick leather vest off and slowly pulled his shirt over his head. He had to close his eyes and bite back a groan as her fingers immediately quested in a sensual assault over the muscles on his bare abdomen and chest, his shoulders and collar bones. Her fingers rose up the scratchy stubble on his neck to trace his mouth gently.
“Your skin is golden.” Her voice held wonder.
Her touch teased memories from his mind—memories of the warm slide of her hard nipples against his chest as she writhed beneath him, memories of the slick glide of her hot folds as she gloved his erection. His cock reacted eagerly to the images in his head, pressing against his leathers.
“Sophi,” he groaned.
“Where are your scars?” she asked as she looked up in tender confusion. “There is not a mark on you. Your skin is perfect, flawless.”
Looking down, she pulled at the lacing of his leathers and then dropped to her knees, pulling the leathers down with her. His erect cock sprang out eagerly as Sophi freed him from his breeches.
“Great Goddess, Sophi!”
She ignored his arousal. Her hands smoothed the flawless skin of his groin, his inner and outer thighs, her face mere inches from his genitals. Again she looked up at him.
“There is no trace of any of your wounds.” She stood slowly, shaking her head. “And your skin is the most beautiful, uniform gold.”
“Yes,” Eric confirmed. “No scars anywhere.” He bent and pulled up his leather breeches, stiffly tucking himself back inside and pulling the lacing tight with a wince. “Uh, and apparently I can glow.”
Sophi’s lips pulled upward in a slow smile. “You glow.” Her eyes held laughter.
I was afraid I’d never see those aqua eyes again. “I ran into a bit of trouble. There was something of a fight. Afterward, I, ah, glowed.” He scratched his fingers through his hair, unsure whether to explain further, much less what to say about something he himself didn’t understand.
“Why not?” Sophi laughed softly. “That is the least fantastic thing you have told me.”
Eric gathered her close to him. “What happened to you after I, ah, well, died?”
Her face scrunched into a solemn frown. “A group of Verdantian fighters attached to House Contradina, war criminals I think, were taking me to Krakoll to ransom for a fortune in cinnagin. Their captain is a brutal man and I cannot begin to decipher his motivation, but the day before we were to get to Amboy Crater to meet with Krakoll, he made it possible for me to escape. His name is Ramsey DeKieran.”
“What? Ramsey DeKieran held you? He helped you escape?”
“Yes. They chained me to a tree every morning while the camp rested.” Eric growled low in his throat.
Sophi ran her fingers in a caress over his lips. “Shh, it is over.” He closed his eyes, caging his savage anger, then nodded for her to continue.
“One day, as he chained me, he didn’t close the lock and then he flipped his knife on the ground within my reach.” Her brow wrinkled. “He said he would cut out my tongue if he found me again.”
Fury surged through him. “He’ll never get near enough to carry out that threat.” He pulled her to him so tightly she murmured a protest and he lessened his grip. She nuzzled into him, her lips pressing warm kisses into the heavy muscles of his bare chest. He wanted to stay in this small tent—sheltered, private, removed from the world of conflict and uncertainty. Sophi’s low voice murmured something between the kisses she placed along the line of his collar bone.
“What did you say, sweetling?”
She pulled back just far enough to look up at him. “I promised myself if I could stay alive, I would never again let fear stop me from loving.”
Eric looked down into the ocean depths of her eyes and thought he might drown in the emotion they held. Say it, Sophi. Say it.
“I love you, Eric. I love you so much it frightens me.” Her hand crept up and cupped his cheek.
“Ah, Sophi, my sweet love.” He had underestimated the endless capacity of his heart to feel joy.
Her lips parted under his, a soft, dry prelude to the hot, wet play of her tongue answering his invasion. Her hands slid into his hair and he could feel the gentle scratch of her nails as she ran them back and forth across his scalp. It was his last coherent thought as he lost himself in the passion of her response. No kiss had been as real as this. The melding of her lips to his erased sight and sound. There was only love. There was only Sophi.
Never separating, he swept her up, cradling her as he knelt. The rocks ground into his knees and shins and destroyed his Sophi-induced fugue. This won’t do. Not at all. Setting her down carefully, he broke off.
“Don’t move, my love.” Straightening awkwardly—these damnable leathers bind in the worst places at times like this—he pulled the blanket off the short, narrow cot that stretched along one
side of the tent. He returned to her and with a tender smile, spread it on the ground. Sitting back on his heels, he offered an invitation with outstretched arms. A sultry smile covered Sophi’s face and she slunk toward him on all fours, only to pounce on him with a low gurgle of laughter. She took him sprawling to his back. His low rumble of answering amusement turned into a breathless grunt as her entire weight pressed him into the earth.
His arms imprisoned her and he rolled them both to their sides, their faces an inch apart. The salty taste of her skin filled his mouth as he pressed tender kisses all over her face and neck while her hands smoothed his bare shoulders and back.
He pulled back to look at her lovely face. Even with the remaining traces of all the deprivation and trauma she had suffered visible upon her person, Sophi’s beauty astounded him. Her thickly-lashed eyes opened and the soft pink of her lips stretched into a gentle smile. It gladdened his soul. “I am so thankful you are alive.” Her whisper sang in his heart.
“You echo my thoughts, sweetling,” he murmured. “You are very well covered. Take this off.” Eric held up the heavy drape of her full-length robe.
Sophi pushed herself up slowly and gathering the hem of her garment, pulled it over her head. Folding it, she placed it at their head. “There, a nice pillow.”
A breast band wrapped her chest, and short, form-fitting trousers clothed her bottom half. It took her no time to pull off her soft boots. Her eyes wandered down from his face and across his chest, coming to rest on his leather breeches. With an eyebrow raised, she tugged at the laces in the front. “Well?”
“You do it.”
The look she gave him in answer made it very hard to remain still as she struggled to work the laces loose. Eric couldn’t remember wanting a woman more. Shit. “Boots, take off my boots. Can’t get rid of the pants before the boots.”
“Of course.” She ducked her head and flashed an amused look at him as she struggled with his tall riding boots. “Can you tell I’m not used to undressing men?”
“That’s alright, love, I’ll make sure you get lots of practice,” he whispered. “And I will enjoy teaching you.” His eyes soaked in the lovely sight of Sophi’s alabaster skin and the play of her toned muscles as she worked the last boot off. He’d take her willowy strength over any of the lush courtesans he had frequented.
Sophi let out a triumphant, “Ha!” His boot went sailing. “Done. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, your breeches.” Wriggling between his legs, she methodically worked his form-fitting leathers down his hips. She stopped with them mid-way down his thighs and with a naughty glance ran her tongue up the length of his fully-erect cock.
Pulses of sparkling energy surged through his cock and settled into a promise of delight at the base of his spine. “You don’t want to go there,” Eric cautioned and reached down to work his way out of the clinging leather.
“No?”
“No, I want to be in your sweet, hot pussy. I am going to make insane love to you for hours.” He grinned at her sober face.
With a slight tilt of her head and the wide eyes of an innocent, she asked, “Is this where you fulfill your promise to make love to me until I can’t stand?” Her slow, sultry blink betrayed her as anything but innocent.
Finally free from his battle leathers, Eric growled. “Yes. Come here.”
The playful mischief lurking in her eyes undid him. Nothing defeats you, Sophi. After all she had been through, she held onto laughter. She went to him. In a whirling storm of hands, Sophi lost both her trousers and breast band.
Stretched beside Sophi’s willowy, nude form, he started at her hairline with a caressing forefinger, tracing down her nose, across her eyelids, around her mouth, and then trailing along her jaw. He leaned down to follow the path of his finger with his lips but Sophi opened her eyes, arresting his descent with a tender gaze.
“I have seen you fight. You behead people with an effortless sweep of sword and yet your touch can be delicate, as if the lightest of feathers stroke me.”
Eric smiled at her. “You have had enough rough play to last you a lifetime, I think.” He sobered. “I will never hurt you.”
“Not even if I ask you to play rough?”
She surprised a bark of laughter out of him. “What did you have in mind? Tell me.”
She ducked her head, suddenly shy. “I don’t know, but you don’t always have to be gentle.”
Ah, sweetheart. “Alright, another time, another place we will explore ‘not gentle’, but for now…” He leaned in to taste her mouth in a soft kiss then whispered against her lips. “For now, I wish to be gentle.”
Her lovely breasts tipped with dark pink buds called to his hands and mouth. Holding a nipple gently between his teeth, his tongue danced a rapid tattoo across its surface. Never breaking his hold, he smiled against her skin as Sophi cried out quietly and arched upward.
“Yes, yes! Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” Eric only stopped to change sides. “Please, please, more!” Sophi’s cries for more satisfied something primeval within him.
When he slid his fingers between Sophi’s legs, he found her flesh swollen and slippery. The pulsing in his cock tortured him, but if he was to make good on his promise, he needed to pay close attention to Sophi. Eric played, caressed and nibbled while Sophi writhed on the ground, choking out incoherent cries of pleasure. He gloried in giving her this experience. With each cry he wrung from her, tiny sparks of pleasure burst throughout his loins. His cock had become a throbbing spear of heat. As soon as he sheathed himself in her hot, wet core, he knew he’d be finished.
Sophi fisted two hands in his thick hair. “I need you in me, now!” She pulled his head up sharply from the lovely nipple that featured as headliner in the theatre of his tongue’s attention.
“In me—now,” she panted. “No more teasing. I’ve had enough.”
Moving between her legs, he captured her arms and held them above her head. “Look at me,” he ordered. “Don’t look away from my face. I want to watch you come.”
“Don’t blink,” she spluttered. “You will miss it.”
Silent, joyous laughter filled him to his soul. “I’m pretty sure I’ll notice.”
Accompanied by her whispered pleas to go faster, which he faithfully ignored, he slowly gloved himself in her glorious depths. Restraining the imperative to hilt himself in her sweetness and then drive to completion was the most insane of tortures. Goddess help me.
“This is us,” he whispered against her lips after taking them in a drugging kiss of tangled tongues and tender nibbles. “This is me making love to you.”
Even slower than he had entered her, he pulled out to the very tip of his cock. “This isn’t a ritual. This isn’t having sex. This is me making love to you, Sophi—and I do love you.”
Sophi’s eyes closed for a moment. The small jewel of a tear appeared then trembled at the corner of her eyelid. Opening them again, she held him in a gaze full of tender passion. “I love you, too.”
The slow glide of his cock in and out kept them balanced precariously at the edge of a precipice over bottomless ecstasy. Her slippery heat gloved him in a tight fist, brutally challenging his discipline. Slipping into the meditative mind-set necessary for the more complex rites, he chanted to himself under his breath, “Just one more, just one more, just one more…” Keeping count was beyond him. He didn’t try.
“Please, Eric. Please.” Sophi’s begging shattered Eric’s concentration. The epic wave of carnal pleasure, confined by only his will, broke free and inundated his entire body. Helpless, he surrendered. Holding Sophi’s aqua eyes, Eric took himself and Sophi over the precipice and a long fall into all-consuming rapture with one, final, torturous slide.
A light storm of white radiance illuminated the small tent, accompanied by a subliminal thrum of heavy bass. The sound waves vibrated the ground they lay on. What?
Rolling carefully over, Eric shielded his eyes and propped up, trying to locate the source. As suddenly as it had come, the li
ght and deep throb died, leaving only the pink light of the rising sun infiltrating the tent.
“Does your vest have magickal properties, too?” Sophi’s words slurred together, heavy with sexual satiation. Her eyes lids opened as if heavily burdened and she caught his gaze for a scant moment before closing them again.
Eric’s brow wrinkled. “What?”
“That, ah, blast of light came from your vest—the sound, too.”
“From my vest?” Eric’s eyes traveled to where he had discarded it in his hurry to be rid of his clothes.
“Mmm.” Sophi bestowed a dreamy, somnolent smile on him. “Your vest.” She released a sigh of extravagant pleasure. “You were right.” She stretched like a lazy cat, unconcerned by the glorious display her nude body presented to his eyes. “About two things.”
Eric stood and walked to his vest. He picked it up and searched its numerous pockets. Spare bridle buckles and hooks, a razor, a sliver of soap, a tin of salve and other medicines, a hoof pick, money, a compass—any number of essentials for day-to-day life in the field—rained to the ground. He grunted in surprise. “This is what created the light and sound. Obviously, one I forgot to give back to the villagers at Silver Grove.” Eric held up a pulsing, diaman crystal before tucking it back into the pocket.
Dropping his vest, he rejoined Sophi on the bedroll, snuggling up to her, pulling her into his arms with a long, tender kiss. “I am always right,” he murmured against her cheek. “But tell me what I am right about this time.”
Sophi laughed through the kisses he placed on her mouth until she had to push him away to answer. “I am too weak to stand.”
“Yes.” He grinned. “I am going to keep you like this. You are much easier to control.”
“Eric. You rutting beast.”
With a laugh, he smothered her half-hearted objection with more kisses rising in ardor, until he pulled away, both of them breathless. “What was the second thing?”
“Hmmm?”
Sweet girl. She is truly exhausted. She can hardly keep her eyes open.
Hers To Choose (Verdantia Book 2) Page 17
