Love Never-Ending

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Love Never-Ending Page 16

by Anny Cook

* * * * *

  The rain continued to fall through the night. Merlyn moved restlessly in the dark, kicking aside the rumpled covers. The soft curve of Jade’s rump brushed against his cock as he twisted and then sat up, yawning as he contemplated their conversation with Bishop. He shivered at the thought of his father invading the valley. It wasn’t the utopia of Bish’s jibes but it was far more peaceful than the world on the outside.

  “What’s wrong?” Jade whispered groggily.

  “Nothing. Everything.”

  “You’re worried about Free showing up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come back to bed,” she mumbled as she plumped up her pillow. “I need you.”

  “You’re not in schalzina.”

  “Baron Merlyn Llewellyn, get your ass back here and make love to me. I don’t need to be in schalzina to want your cock in my pussy!” She unerringly reached up and yanked on a kinky strand of his hair.

  He grinned and stretched out next to her, wrapping her in his arms so that her head was resting on his shoulder. “Pregnancy making you cranky, darling? All you had to do was ask.”

  She turned her head so that her nose was buried in the curve of his neck and inhaled with a deep sigh. “I love the way you smell. I can pick out your scent in a roomful of people.”

  His tongue slithered out and flicked lightly along the top of her ear. “Me too. Even before we came to the valley.”

  She shuddered and her nipples tightened almost painfully against his chest.

  In a slow lush sweep, his tongue traveled from the peaked top of her ear down the sweetly curved edge to her lobe. He sucked the plump little morsel into his warm mouth, alternately laving and nipping while she whimpered and twisted in rapidly rising arousal. A hot, calloused hand lightly smoothed down her back, trailing past her waist to the squeezably soft curve of her butt. He gently patted her ass before exploring the sensual territory between her thighs.

  Hard fingers toyed with the hot, swollen folds, dipping into her slippery pussy with wicked intent. One finger nudged at the rosette between her butt cheeks, setting off new waves of fiery shivers.

  “Merlyn,” she whimpered. “I need you now.” She grasped his rigid cock in her hand and stroked restlessly. “Put your cock in me now!”

  “Now? Right this minute?” he teased.

  She twisted her fingers in the curls at his groin and tugged with purposeful menace. “Now.”

  “Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?” With a deft twist, he rolled her beneath him, positioned his cock at the slick opening of her pussy and thrust home. Little running contractions danced up and down the length of his cock as she gasped and whimpered, twining her legs with his. He slipped his big hands beneath her butt, tilting her so that he sank deeper. With each stroke he brushed across the sensitive nerves of her dormant schela. Abruptly, she reached the peak she’d been so desperately striving for. As she cried out and sank her nails in his hard, muscular back, he thrust once more before helplessly embracing his own release.

  Anxious to protect Jade and the babies she carried, he rolled to the side, tucking her close to his chest. For long moments they cuddled, silently relishing the aftermath. Then she yawned and asked, “What really worries you?”

  “He’s coming.”

  “Free? How do you know?”

  “Down deep in my gut I’ve always known. Time is running out.”

  “What do you need to do to prepare?” she asked softly.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Always thinking, aren’t you, my Jade? Our warriors have to know how to fight together in teams. But so many of the experienced ones have pregnant mates…what if he comes after a bond storm like this? The valley would be wide open because everyone’s in schalzina.”

  “Then train all the single warriors.”

  “They’re so young,” he pointed out doubtfully.

  “They’ll have to grow up fast,” she refuted. “Divide them into rotating teams. Swap them around for each training exercise so that they practice working with all the available teams. Then no matter when Free shows up, they’ll be able to work together in coordinated groups.”

  “Huh.” Merlyn thought about that for a while. “Maybe I’ll ask Dancer to observe the training—see if he has any ideas.” He yawned and tugged her closer to his chest. “Go to sleep.”

  “I miss Dai,” she confessed sleepily. “It’s hard to sleep when he’s gone.”

  “Well, pretty soon the babies will be born and he’ll be back with us. Now go to sleep.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, missy, but it’s a deal.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Samara leaves Lost Market

  The morning after the bond storm Samara meticulously cleaned her dome, only stopping when everything shone until it glittered in the sunlight pouring through the skylights. Next she carefully packed a bag with enough clothes and necessities for two eight-days. Finally, she showered and dressed in a cool meerlim and comfortable walking sandals.

  She walked into the village, stopped at the barter keeper’s dome for an account letter and to notify him that she would not be teaching for two weeks. Then she shored up her courage and went to see her mother.

  Rebaccah wasn’t blind, nor was she stupid. Clearly, something drastic had happened between Bishop and Samara. Being female, she was also sympathetic to Samara’s need to leave Lost Market for a while. So she made no objections when Samara abruptly announced that she was going to Rebaccah’s Promise to visit with her sister, Qwenna. Some things didn’t need explanations.

  “You’re going alone?” Rebaccah asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, be careful. I know you don’t like to use mind speech but at least check in each evening so that I don’t worry.”

  Samara smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I’m such a trial to you, Mama. I promise that I’ll check in.”

  “Sammie, I love you. I’m sorry that Bishop isn’t ready for you. Go to Qwenna’s for a while. Maybe things will be better for you after you have some time away.” Rebaccah hugged her daughter tightly.

  “Tell Papa goodbye for me?”

  “I will. Now you’d best get going if you’re going to reach Dai’s Hamlet by nightfall.”

  Anxious to put the village behind her, Samara cut across the green and took the path that led to Dai’s Hamlet. Her thoughts were so caught up in what she would say to Qwenna that she failed to hear Wolfe’s voice, calling her name until he had nearly caught up with her just past the blacksmith shop. “Samara!”

  She stopped and whirled around on the path, brandishing her walking stick, ready to defend herself. “Wolfe?”

  Halting several steps from her, he waited silently for her to invite him closer.

  “What do you want?” She winced at her curt question but her heart was still pounding with fear.

  “Today is my day to leave for Rebaccah’s Promise to complete my training. Your mother said you were also traveling up there. I wondered if you would permit me to walk with you. It’s safer for two to travel together than only one. And I see that you have armed yourself as well.”

  “I cannot talk about Bishop,” she said shortly.

  “Well, on that we agree. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind talking about something else? Of course, you know that I’m not much for conversation…”

  She chuckled then. “Come on. I confess that I was not anxious to travel alone through the woods. Who better to accompany me than my cousin, the warrior and healer? So tell me about your training while we walk.”

  “Ah, I see. I’m to provide entertainment. Well, what shall I tell you? Would you like to know about setting broken bones? Or should I describe stitching a wound shut?”

  “Tell me something no one else will talk about. How did Llyon heal me when I was hurt? And why couldn’t he make me a virgin again?” she asked softly.

  Wolfe bit down hard on his lip, lightly piercing it with his fangs. “Llyon can almost perform miracles
but some things are beyond even his talent. Replacing something that is gone…no, he cannot do that. At thirteen years, he already had the wisdom to understand that.” Wolfe was silent as they walked along and then, just as she thought he wouldn’t speak anymore, he added, “Healing is mostly a matter of nudging the body to heal itself. His gift permitted him to heal the most serious injuries quickly, allowing your body time to heal the rest on its own.”

  “It must be difficult to have that much responsibility, to have to make life-and-death decisions.”

  “We are not gods, Samara. We have talents, yes, but we have limits too. The limits are frustrating. Who would not want a patient to live? But some things we must accept. Llyon is better at that than I am.”

  Samara sighed and said, “Llyon has had more time to learn that lesson. I have no doubt that you will be a fine healer. You have progressed so far in such a short time.”

  “That worries me,” he admitted. “I’m not ready to care for patients on my own.”

  “I’m sure that Henry won’t release you until he’s positive that you are ready. Don’t doubt yourself, Wolfe.”

  * * * * *

  In Lost Market, there was peace after the storm. While Arturo, Bishop and Tyger packed for a visit to Dai’s Retreat, Dai finished checking on the patients who had begun schalzina or were pregnant. As he walked from one dome to the next, reports were relayed in from all over the valley. There were seventeen pregnancies from the bond storm from Dancer and Eppie’s bonding. Already, healers had confirmed an additional nine pregnancies from Arano and Silence’s bond storm. It was going to be a very busy late winter and early spring.

  By the time Dai returned, the others were ready to leave. Dai, anxious to reach the retreat by dinnertime, urged them out the door and across the village before they could protest.

  Privately, Bishop was highly amused at Dai’s enthusiasm. He had no doubt that Dai loved the children but clearly he’d had enough of their company for a while. Bish had a wicked picture in his mind of Dai fleeing Lost Market with the children in hot pursuit. It was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud at the idea.

  There was little conversation on the walk down to Dai’s Retreat. Each of the men had his own thoughts to fill the time. Bish wasn’t sure why Tyger was part of their group but he was pretty sure that Arturo’s presence had something to do with Arano’s dramatic bonding with Silence. He suspected that the bonding would create a far greater separation issue for twin brothers than he himself felt with Dancer and Traveller. Bish was happy that Dance and Trav were settling in with women they genuinely loved and respected but he couldn’t help feeling left out. How much more must a twin feel in the same situation?

  At the village of Dai’s Hamlet they made a brief stop at the bakery and the butcher to pick up fresh bread and meat. Jacob Taylor, the butcher, was bonded to Patty, Dai’s daughter. Dai’s granddaughter, Mara, was playing on the steps of the butcher shop with her doll. As soon as she saw Dai coming down the path, she jumped up and ran home to let her mother know. Before Jacob finished packaging up the meat, Patty bustled in with a basket of cakes and carefully wrapped sweet pies for them to take with them.

  Michas Bell, the gardener, showed up with a rough cloth sack filled with vegetables, freshly picked from the garden. Dai knew very well that his payment would be all the news from Lost Market. Wolfe and Samara had passed through earlier in the day but had little time to talk if they were going to reach the village of Sunrise by evening. So Dai patiently shared all the news.

  “Arano and Silence are bonded?” Patty demanded in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

  “Apparently, her bonding with Homer was never completed. Arano was curious enough to inquire into the circumstances.” Dai sat on the bench outside the butcher shop door and gratefully leaned back against the wall. “He claimed birth-rite at the bonding.”

  The villagers stood around staring at him in stunned amazement. Arano Llewellyn and Silence. They couldn’t believe it. More than that, they couldn’t believe that Dai approved the bonding. One by one, they walked away, shaking their heads. There were too many changes happening in the valley. Too many changes.

  After collecting their extra parcels and baskets and bidding farewell to Jacob and Patty, the men set off on the last leg of their journey. Bishop didn’t know about the others but he for one would be very glad to reach their destination. His legs were killing him. He couldn’t wait to get back to civilization where there were cars and bicycles and other modes of transportation besides walking.

  * * * * *

  Samara and Wolfe thankfully reached Sunrise just at dusk. Samara sank down on the bench outside the bakery while Wolfe went in search of Joseph Marks, the Sunrise council representative. Before Wolfe made it across the small village green, Joseph was loping toward him, curious about travelers arriving that late in the day.

  While Wolfe explained their mission, several more people arrived, some departing almost immediately on various errands. In a remarkably short time, Samara found herself installed in the guest hut with a hot dinner steaming on the small table while Wolfe went off to stay with the Alcy, the local healer. After a sketchy wash-up in a surprisingly well-appointed bathing room, Samara sat down to devour the tasty woolie stew and fresh sunflower bread. She couldn’t remember anything tasting so good in a long time. Evidently hunger lent an extra dash of seasoning to the stew.

  With a replete sigh she sat back in her chair and studied the furnishings in the small hut. One bed, suitable for two people, piled high with fluffy bedding and colorful pillows was calling her name but she was determined to take a long, relaxing bath first. A small round table with two chairs sat next to a fireplace with the logs waiting for the touch from a starter. There was also a chest in the corner and a small table next to the bed. A deep blue rag rug covered the rough stone floor next to the bed. With a pleased smile she rose and went to the chest where her pack was waiting on top. She extracted a house shift and went to take her bath.

  Later, after depositing the tray of dishes outside the door, she lit the fire and then curled up in the bed, sleepily watching the flicker and snap of the flames until she drifted off to sleep. She woke once during the night and thought of Bishop, wondering where he was and if he missed her but before she could pursue that notion she fell back asleep.

  In the early hours before dawn, she woke with a scream, her body shaking with the aftermath of the strongest orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her heart pounded as she realized that Bishop wasn’t there. Sick at heart, she accepted the truth…it was just an incredibly vivid dream.

  They were out in the Deep Meadow, lying on a blanket. She was on her knees, with her ass hiked up so that everything was displayed to anyone who might decide to visit the meadow. Bishop made her promise to keep her arms crossed with her head resting on them no matter what he did.

  Her breasts brushed against the nubby blanket as she tried to get her knees in a comfortable spot. Before she’d turned onto her belly, Bishop removed two flowers from the basket he’d brought with them. They were fashioned from springy wire—something that Samara had never seen before. He sucked each nipple until they were both standing at attention, then fitted the flowers over the hard tips, making sure that they were just tight enough to keep her nipples nicely stimulated…especially when they rubbed on the textured blanket.

  Her pussy was wet. The meadow breeze grazed over the damp skin, arousing her unbearably. A fresh trickle of cream slicked her swollen folds as they flowered open, revealing the deep lavender petals in the center.

  She watched him delve into his basket again. He removed a small pot of ointment and a strange polished wooden cylinder. He silently turned it over on his palm so that she could clearly see it. It was shaped like a kzusha.

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asked.

  “I’m going to fuck you with it. And when you’re very, very excited and very, very wet—then I’m going to stick my cock in your ass while I fuck
your pussy with this.” He teased her with the wooden kzusha, trailing it over the sensitive folds between her legs.

  “Your kzusha is too big,” she protested even as the idea excited her so she felt her clit swell.

  “Trust me with this, Samara. I would never hurt you.” He waited motionless for her permission.

  After a moment, she breathed out softly. “All right.”

  She felt the smooth head of the kzusha press at her wet opening. Then he was slowly but firmly sliding it inside her. Her pussy clamped around it with a greedy grasp, clinging to it as he unhurriedly slid it in and out.

  Desperately, she whimpered, “I need to come, Bishop.”

  He stopped moving, leaving the kzusha buried deep inside. “Squeeze your pussy real tight, sweetheart. You’re responsible for holding on to that dildo while I go to the next step.”

  “D-dildo?”

  “The wooden cock. It’s called a dildo.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He dipped a finger in the small pot of ointment and daubed it on her anus. Involuntarily, she tightened up. He smacked her on the butt with one hand while he pressed in with one of the slick fingers from his other hand. She squeaked, jerking away but he was prepared for just such an action.

  “B-Bishop? Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s an excellent idea. Are you squeezing that dildo?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she hissed as he inserted a second finger.

  He tapped the end of the dildo before slipping his free hand down to pluck at her clit. With shocking abruptness, she came, convulsing so strongly that she woke up. The dream was so real that it took her several moments to realize that she was not only alone…she was on her knees on the bed, legs spread wide, with her head resting on her folded arms.

  The possibilities were disturbing. Was she picking up mental pictures from Bishop? She had never seen such devices as he produced in the dream. Shivering with cold, she shakily got up and went to the bathroom before returning to bed, burrowing under the heavy blankets. It seemed like a long time before she finally went back to sleep.

 

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