Mistress of Redemption

by Joey W. Hill

Page 29

 

  He wished he could kiss her mouth, that final and most precious gift of intimacy.

  Though he was tempted past bearing to do so with her so close beneath him, her chin rubbing his head as he suckled her again, nipped her, he didn’t. For she had forbidden him to kiss her. He didn’t want to do anything to stop this moment.

  It brought him back to moments with other Mistresses, moments somewhat like this when their love and response had been offered as freely as Dona’s was now. He could see those moments now with new eyes. Every drop of love freely offered could have been another restorative to his sick soul. Healing had always been within his reach, but his fears had been greater.

  With the truths his Mistress of Redemption had shown him came the knowledge of all he had done and all he must do to make it right to earn the love of a Mistress like Dona. But he didn’t want one like Dona. He wanted her. Was that ridiculous, like the soldier falling for his nurse?

  Maybe it was a twisted sort of Stockholm Syndrome, or an attachment to the first woman who’d offered justice and love in the same touch. His gut, which had been well honed to identify the nuances of a woman’s moods to take advantage of her, sensed what lay between the two of them was far more than that. She’d said they were soul mates, hadn’t she?

  When she tightened her muscles on him, he gasped, his fingers curling into her dark hair. “Mistress. ”

  “Harder now. Stronger. Let me feel how strong you are,” she whispered. “How savage your passion can be when it’s unleashed honestly. ” He didn’t need a second invitation or further explanation. Scooping his arm under her waist, he clamped her to him, held both of their weights on one arm as he surged into her. Thrusting his cock hard and deep, he watched her eyes glaze, her mouth open, that beautiful neck arch back even further, inviting. Her fingers dug into his buttocks and he didn’t disappoint her, continuing the deep thrusts, fully withdrawing on each stroke to tease her sensitive opening and clit, feeling how she slid slickly over him.

  Their boat rocked, adding to the sensation with the uncontrolled response to their passion. The world tilted around them.

  “My name. ” He suddenly had that one desperate demand. “Please. ”

  “Nathan. My heart. My soul mate. ” It came to her lips so easily, he knew it had to be truth. She knew the purest part of who he was. He was here between her legs now, giving her all of himself, all she would allow. With an overwhelming desire he’d never allowed himself to feel, he wanted to give it all. He didn’t want to be afraid, just wanted to give everything to her, even if she slashed him to ribbons. As they drew closer to climax, the power of it immersed him. He could tell she was experiencing the same connection. Light was rising, surrounding them both as if they were about to detonate and create a new star.

  He bent his head, fully intending to capture her lips with his own, feeling that he could dare it now. However, her hand came up at the last moment, pressing against his mouth. He had to content himself with sucking on those fingertips, licking the tender crevices. Suckling on her palm, he fastened his teeth on her wrist pulse as she convulsed beneath him, cried out, her legs tightening on him.

  “Go…now…” It was barely coherent, but he thanked whatever Powers there were for her mercy as his cock pulsed in response to the release of her pussy. He jetted deep inside her, groaning as her body gripped him like a fist. He made love to her, fucked her, gave and took from her in every way possible to bring her pleasure, his thighs taut beneath her questing fingertips, shoulder muscles standing out as he gave her every ounce of strength he had. Serving her pleasure to the last vibration of her climax, he thought of nothing else but that, no future plans or past failures. There was just now.

  Their natural green boat swayed with them, adding to the pleasure, a rhythm controlled by a power far beyond both of them and far more ancient.

  It was a good thing that Nathan could not see into her the way she could see into him at this moment. Immersed in his thoughts, Dona knew she would have abandoned everything required of her just to stay in this moment with him, her arms and legs holding him, the quiet sounds of the night surrounding them. As he slowed, responding to the languid cadence of her body signaling her completion, his chest rose and fell against hers. When he lowered his head, she closed her eyes and felt the touch of his lips against her cheek as he nuzzled her. She knew everything inside him. His wonder. His love. At this moment, she held Nathan in her arms. Jonathan wasn’t even a whisper of darkness in the pure light that filled them.

  God, help me be cruel enough to help him. Don’t let me be selfish. I’m getting so lost in him, I’m not sure what the right path is anymore.

  After all they had shared and all she had done to him, Nathan was amazed at how light and delicate she felt in his arms. He tightened his arms around her because he sensed she needed that strength, the feel of his wanting her. He wouldn’t ever stop. He wanted to tell her, but something in her face kept him quiet. As they finished with intense, lingering aftershocks, his brow came to rest on hers, his mouth only inches from those tempting lips. He wondered mazily if she was so light because he was holding her soul. It contented him to believe it.

  Pressing his lips to her shoulder, he closed his eyes as he sensed the shadows hovering at the edges of his own soul, waiting. His foster mothers, his mother. Eliza.

  How could he have Dona when there was so much hatred and bitterness in him? “The world is so dark,” he murmured. “You told me there’s hope. This is the only moment of hope I can imagine, but you’re not ready to give me your love. So there’s only despair for me, isn’t there?”

  Because without you, I can’t be healed. But if I’m with you… He would destroy her. The thought terrified him. He thought he might rather suffer the fires of Hell than know he’d done that to her. For as invincible as she seemed, he knew she wasn’t.

  She was quiet beneath him, stretching her neck up to nuzzle his throat with her nose. He sensed her hesitation, as if she was considering many different issues that he did not understand. He waited on her Will, too full of the past few moments and too fearful of the next to speak further.

  * * * * *

  Darkness could be comforting, bringing a floating sensation. There was a flash of light that hurt his eyes. A sense of apprehension came with that light, then there was a murmur of sound. The light receded, became soft blue, green. The smell of grass touched his senses and he was staring up into layers of blue and green leaves with soft filtering silver lights.

  Peace, such as he’d never known and never imagined could exist, filled him. It became his blood, his breath. He could lie here forever and it would be okay.

  Everything he’d done wrong, every shortcoming he’d recognized or imagined in himself, every self-doubt, every hurt, it was all forgiven. Everything was centered, simple. It therefore made perfect sense that he felt her hand in his. Looking over, he saw she lay beside him, both of them naked. It wasn’t sexual, it just was. Her hair was loose and soft, so he reached out and touched it, held it in his hands and buried his face in it as she circled her arms around his head, held him, rocked with him. They rolled, tumbled over and over together on the soft blanket of the ground, a fun, gentle exercise of movement. The tangling of limbs, the rubbing together of bodies. When they stopped, they were on the slope of a hill. Sitting up, he kept her in the span of one arm as he looked around. They’d been lying in a grove of trees, but just below the green earth gave way to the silver plateau of a lake framed by snow-capped mountains, sculpted with lines of past melting waters. A canvas entirely sculpted by Nature.

  Untouched by human hands, everything tranquil, still…

  By the lake, a lion came to drink, an antelope rubbing up against his flank, dancing away with playful lack of fear as he grumbled at it as a cat might do. A stone’s throw away, several rabbits lay quietly in their warren, watching it all. Ducks and their young moved across the water.

&nb
sp; “I’ve never felt…is this one of the illusions of this place, Dona? Is what I’m feeling real? What am I feeling?”

  “Contentment. Pure, simple contentment. A desire for nothing except what’s around you already. No desire to do harm. ” When Dona reached up, touched his face, he pressed his lips to her wrist, holding the kiss there, savoring her skin, feeling the fingers of her other hand move along his cock and rest against his thigh. A natural, easy touch, freely exchanged with no tension or expectation. As much as he enjoyed the feel of lust, this was somehow an even stronger type of desire, even in its tranquility.

  “Can we stay here forever?”

  A shadow crossed her face. “No. This is Eden. We can only visit for special purposes, short moments. Humans are forbidden to live here until they achieve full enlightenment. That’s where there’s hope, Nathan. Not only in the destination, but in the journey to get there. The promise of it. ”

  * * * * *

  “Tell me one dream you had. ”

  He begged for it, wanting some key to understanding her. “Big or small. ”

  “Had?” She lifted a brow. “We dream here too. We do nothing but dream. ” His Mistress rested her chin on her knuckles as they sat cross-legged, shoulder to shoulder, staring down the hill at the gateway to Eden. The being who had temporarily allowed them entry was back on guard, the sword like a flickering star.

  They were like two kids in a treehouse, sharing confidences. After experiencing Eden together, Nathan thought the bond between them right now felt like a quiet knowledge of one another down to the soul, far beyond sexual interest, even beyond man and woman. No human could have remained unmoved in such a place. He had been given this glimpse, not just of the Garden, but of her.

  “I used to get poison ivy every year, in the spring,” she said at last. “Sometimes it itched so badly… The best thing for it is wet compresses. Just a wet cloth laid over it.

  There’s this first moment, just a blink, when the cloth touches your skin. It’s so intense it almost feels like an orgasm and you want to scratch so badly. Then the coolness is there, taking it all away. Miraculous, just something natural that makes it feel better. I always have this fantasy of a man who loves me doing that. Putting those wet compresses on my ankles, this look of concern in his eyes. Changing them out when needed. Telling me not to get up, that he’ll take care of it. ” Her gaze shifted to him. “His kisses would be like that terrible burning itch at the first contact, melting away into something natural that feels like contentment, everything I need. ” A corner of her mouth lifted. “It wasn’t what you expected one of my fantasies to be, was it?” He couldn’t help but grin, lift a shoulder. She bumped him with her own.