Love in the Wild: A Tarzan Retelling

by Emma Castle

“Yes,” he replied, and once again he pushed himself to focus on his friend.

  Two hours later, his head had begun to ache, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to learn too much too fast, or because he wasn’t used to riding in a car. He was relieved when they finally reached Kampala. The towering buildings were brightly lit, and the city was noisy. Despite the rain that started to fall, he could hear the hum of the city, not unlike a great hive of bees. The sound made him restless.

  “I will park here, and we can go to the front desk to find her room.” Bwanbale parked in front of a reddish-brown building. A clear pool in front of the building was dark with the stormy night sky as Bwanbale stopped the car and turned off the engine. Bwanbale cursed the rain, but it didn’t bother Thorne. Rain brought life—he would never curse it. He started toward the pool, ignoring Bwanbale calling his name.

  There was a wall of roughhewn rocks, like the back side of the waterfall, and palm fronds banked it, making it look like the jungle, but it wasn’t real. Thorne knelt by the pool and cupped the water in one hand and raised it to his lips, tasting it. He spat it right back out. There was an unnatural taste to it—it was wrong somehow.

  “What is wrong with the water?” he asked.

  Bwanbale shook his head. “That is pool water. There are chemicals in it.”

  Thorne’s eyes widened. “It is poison?”

  Bwanbale sighed. “Not exactly. Just don’t drink it. We can get water inside.”

  Thorne let the falling rain wash his hand of the tainted water, and he straightened.

  “Thorne, follow me. We must use the entrance.” Bwanbale pointed to an entrance glowing with artificial lights.

  Thorne was about to follow when he caught sight of someone standing on a ledge above the pool. It was a strange small opening in the building, like the entrance to a cave, but filled with light. Cloth billowed out around the opening. But despite the rain, Thorne recognized the figure standing there.

  “Eden,” he gasped. He looked to Bwanbale. “She is there. I will go to her.”

  “Thorne, wait!”

  But Thorne had already waited too long. Eden’s figure disappeared from the ledge. He raced toward the building. She was perhaps as high up as his favorite waterfall. He could easily climb that.

  Thorne paused at the wall. This was not like a tree; it was more like the cliffs by the falls. Thorne’s hands searched the stones for tiny gaps to find a grip. He felt certain he could climb it. The boots on his feet made things more difficult, but he would not give up. He would get to his mate at long last.

  12

  Eden left the balcony door of her room open as she listened to the staccato sounds of rain pounding the hotel and the pool deck below. She had always loved the storms in Arkansas. She had grown up in storm country, so normal rainstorms were actually soothing. The rumbling sound of the thunder and the ephemeral striations of lightning across the sky made her miss home.

  She lingered at the edge of the pale-blue curtains of her hotel suite, embracing the static charge in the air that sent a strange ripple of excitement through her. It was as though something was coming through the storm, something coming for her. There was a good chance she was simply on edge because of everything she’d been through, but the longer she stood there, listening to the rain, the more she could have sworn she could hear a voice beneath the pattering rhythm of the raindrops. Straining, she thought she heard a word that was more a whisper than anything else.

  “Thorne . . .”

  Eden closed her eyes. I’m just missing him, that’s all. I need to focus on moving forward.

  After her ordeal, her boss had sprung for the nicest available room while she stayed in Kampala a few more days. There was still unfinished business to attend to.

  She rubbed her stiff neck and yawned. It had been a hell of a day, between the embassy interviews and Cameron Haywood. Thorne’s uncle had left her a voice mail after seeing the picture, wanting a DNA test. She’d returned his call and told him that Thorne had refused to leave the jungle, but that she believed she could lead a recovery team to where the airplane was.

  Cameron had been suspicious at the mention of Thorne not being available, but he’d offered to fly to Kampala to try to find him. Eden cautioned against it, not without support. She was convinced that the poachers Thorne had killed were part of a bigger problem, if what Thorne had said about the treasure cave was true. But she couldn’t warn him about that. Her story was hard enough to believe as it was. She needed to crash and sleep for days before she would feel normal again, or at least close to it.

  Eden wore the pajamas she’d gotten from her suitcase, a small cotton button-up top and matching shorts. It felt good to be clean again. She’d taken a shower and allowed her hair to dry in loose waves before she ran a comb through it. Then she pulled back the covers on the king-size bed and crawled under them. The sheets were cool against her skin despite the humidity. As she reached for the light on the bedside table, the fine hairs on her neck began to rise. She wasn’t alone. She turned to face the window and balcony.

  A dark shadow was visible through the pale-blue translucent curtains.

  A large, masculine, yet elegant hand, dripping with rain, pushed the curtain back. Eden opened her mouth to scream, but the shadow stepped into the light. Eden stared at the intruder’s face, not quite sure she believed who she was seeing. It was as though she was supposed to recognize him. Yet he was so different than what he’d been a day ago.

  “Th-Thorne?” She gasped and scrambled out of bed to run toward him.

  He opened his arms, and she flung herself at the dripping jungle god. He was wet, but he was warm to the touch.

  “Come inside.” She dragged him away from the rain and into the dim gold light of the bedroom. She was lost for words as she saw the transformation he’d made. Gone was the dark leather loincloth and the crown of gold leaves. He wore cargo shorts and a black T-shirt that clung wetly to his chest. But his hair . . . The long, dark locks that had once draped down over his shoulders were gone. His hair was cropped short, yet it was still long enough for her to comb her fingers through. The ends at the base of his neck curled slightly with the rain.

  As he held her, he sighed softly, and a lock of his newly shorn hair fell over his eyes. Eden brushed it away, her fingertips lingering over his cheek. His blue eyes, so deep and penetrating, remained fixed on her.

  “Eden.” He whispered her name reverently. “I found you.”

  The way he said it told her a world of things. He’d walked away from all that was familiar and comfortable to him in order to find her. It stole her breath, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.

  When she finally found her tongue again, she had nothing but questions. “How did you get here? Who cut your hair? Whose clothes are these?”

  Thorne nuzzled her cheek. A low, almost purring sound escaped him as he held her flesh to his body. “You have many questions, little mate,” he said with a chuckle. The rich timbre of that sound rippled through her.

  “Little mate?” She tilted her head.

  He brushed his fingers over her cheek, smiling. “You’re so little—and you’re my mate.”

  “Ah!” She almost laughed. He wasn’t wrong—on either count—so how could she deny him that nickname? “I think I’m going to have to teach you about nicknames.”

  “What is nicknames?”

  “Nicknames are names you give to people you love—sweetheart, darling, my love, my heart, honey pie . . .”

  “Darling,” he whispered softly, his deep voice rumbling over that one word so deliciously that she trembled.

  “Yeah, like that one.”

  She laughed a little giddily, so relieved and overjoyed that he was here with her. The puddle of water growing at his feet called her attention to the fact that he had to be freezing.

  “You’re wet. Let me get a towel.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go of her. “Come on. Trust me.” She pulled him into the large bath
room with her, and she pulled a fluffy bath towel off the rack and tossed it over his head. He peered at her as he lifted the towel up, his fingers fisting in the cloth’s soft surface as he began to rub it over his body.

  “Okay, so let’s start again.” Eden helped him dry off, but she knew that he eventually would have to get out of his clothes. “Why did you leave the jungle? I thought you wouldn’t.”

  “When you left, I felt sick.” Thorne touched his chest. “Here.” He looked down at her, and she could see his soul in his eyes.

  Eden had spent so much time trying to convince herself that what she’d felt for Thorne was not as intense as she remembered, that it was driven by adrenaline and survivor’s guilt, that she’d overreacted. But the truth was that what she felt for him was all too real, and even deeper than she could ever imagine.

  “I went to Bwanbale’s village. He gave me clothes, and his mate cut my hair. He drove me here to find you.”

  Eden slipped out of the bathroom to grab her phone. She pulled up her text message thread with Bwanbale and typed a new message to let him know that Thorne was with her. A second later, Bwanbale responded.

  Take care of him. Call if you need me.

  “He knows you’re here and that you’re safe,” Eden explained.

  Thorne smiled. “That is good.” Then he tossed the damp towel on the bathroom counter.

  “So, you’re here.” She still couldn’t believe it. A strange shyness overcame her as she realized that he was here in her hotel room, wet with rain, a hungry look in his eyes that belied his now somewhat civilized appearance.

  “I am. With you.”

  The muscles of his body were molded by his black shirt, and he lifted it off himself, moving slowly and purposely toward her. Eden backed away, but the backs of her knees hit the bed and she fell onto it. He stopped in front of her, his chest bare, his breathing slow and measured, unlike her own quick breaths and pounding heart.

  She knew what was coming, knew what he wanted. She wanted it too, but he needed to know that his uncle and aunt knew he was alive and that they wanted to see him for themselves. Eden put a hand on his bare stomach, which was level with her face as he reached up to undo his cargo shorts. His hard, chiseled abs were beneath her fingertips, teasing her with all the wicked things she wanted from this beautiful man.

  “Wait. We have to talk,” she said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

  Thorne cupped her chin and gazed down at her. “We can talk after we mate,” he murmured softly. He leaned down and kissed her soundly, his lips conquering hers in a way that made her dizzy. How he had gotten better at kissing in just a day she had no idea.

  “Mate,” she said, echoing that wonderfully primitive word. “Have sex, you mean,” she corrected.

  “Have sex,” he said with a slow smile.

  “We also say we make love.” She knew she was starting to ramble a bit, but she felt oddly shy with him here in this modern world. Before he’d fit right into the dark-green leafy expanse of the jungle, but here he was almost too dominant, too big and real.

  “I like make love. I wish to make love with you, always.” His words melted her heart and made it race wildly all at once. Despite the sensuality coming off him in raw waves, there was a tender vulnerability in his blue eyes that shook her. That same vulnerability echoed deep within her too. Was this what it meant to fall in love with someone? To crave him so madly, to long for him with all her heart and feel laid bare like this? If so, she wasn’t just falling—she was tumbling, crashing, cartwheeling down the cliff that led to love.

  “How did you get up to my room? I’m on the second story.” She tried to distract him as he removed his shorts. He wore black boxers that were a tad too small, and his erect shaft was far too obvious in them. “You didn’t climb, did you?”

  “I did.” Thorne removed his boots and socks, chucking them away, completely uncaring about them as he leaned over her.

  Eden scooted back on the bed, trying to put some distance between them, even though she knew sex with him was inevitable. They both wanted it too much.

  “Climbed? Thorne, don’t do that again. You could have been seriously hurt.”

  He raised a brow, his sensual mouth hardening into a hard line. “I did not fall.” He looked insulted by the suggestion that he could have gotten injured.

  “This isn’t the jungle. You aren’t familiar with the buildings or the materials they’re made of. You could get hurt.”

  “You worry about me?” he asked. His gaze softened as he got on his hands and knees on the bed and slowly crawled over her prone body.

  “Of course I worry,” she replied before he silenced her with a kiss.

  His body lowered over hers, and she spread her thighs, welcoming him between them. She was still dressed in her pajamas, but it didn’t stop her from feeling his cock rub against her core as he slid against her, torturing them both with a hint of what was to come. She wrapped her arms around him, surrendering to the moment and to him. They could talk after.

  Eden abandoned herself to his hard, scorching kisses and tumbled through spirals of ecstasy. He instinctively knew what to do when he kissed her, which made her forget everything else. She responded eagerly, her body set aflame by his. Deep down she knew it would always be like this for them, they were an inferno together. Her heart thundered as he gripped the button-up top she wore and ripped it open.

  Buttons scattered everywhere, plinking on the floor, and she began to laugh, but his mouth covered one sensitive breast, sucking on her nipple, while his hand gently explored the other. She could barely breathe. He was so tender yet urgent as he explored her body. When he tugged her shorts and panties off, he kissed his way down to her mound and knelt between her parted thighs, gazing at her body with wonder and appreciation.

  “You are incredible,” he murmured before he lowered his mouth to her sensitive folds.

  It was just as she’d thought—he was a masterful lover, licking her wet slit, laving at the taut bud of nerves until she was writhing desperately beneath him. If he didn’t stop, she would die. If he did stop, she would die. There was just pleasure, wild, mind-blowing pleasure as he made love to her with his mouth. His tongue sank deep into her channel, and she groaned as he licked deeply at her. She clawed at the sheets, near animalistic in her aroused excitement.

  “Oh God. Oh my Gawwwwd! Where the hell did you learn that?” She couldn’t think. When the climax exploded through her, she had only a second to cover her own mouth with one hand.

  “You are beautiful when you feel pleasure,” he said as he slid back up her body and kissed her lips. “And Bwanbale told me some ways to take care of you. He knows much about pleasing a woman.”

  Eden tried not to laugh, despite the fact that she was incredibly aroused. “You and Bwanbale had the birds and bees talk?”

  He tilted his head. “There were no birds or bees.”

  “Oh, never mind—that’s a discussion for another day.” She curled her arms around his neck.

  She shivered as her heart quickened with other, deeper emotions that would worry her later. She drank in his sweetness. He moved above her, shifting, and she felt his cock free of his boxers, pushing deep into her. She groaned at the sudden fullness thrusting inside her, and his tormented groan was a heady invitation to her.

  “You can go faster, harder,” she whispered in his ear. He was holding back, she was sure, and she wanted him to let go of his control.

  He growled softly, the animal inside him clawing its way to the surface. He pinned her hands to either side of her face as he rose above her, and then he showed her what he could really do.

  Eden gasped as he fucked her hard and raw. It was glorious. She’d always enjoyed a bit of roughness, but this was primal, instinctive, animalistic, and she couldn’t get enough. He knew just how to dominate her, how to claim her as his own. Thorne didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath. The bed frame smacked against the wall hard enough to leave marks and proba
bly wake up the neighbors. Each pump of Thorne’s hips mixed with his gentle but strong hold on her trapped hands, and it completely undid Eden.

  Their breaths mingled and the bed creaked in protest as they made love, frantic and intense. It was as though they were back in the jungle, surrounded by the roar of the falls and the call of the birds. They were joined, man and woman, two hearts racing wildly over the same cliff.

  She came a second time and cried out his name, and he was there with her in that beautiful perfect moment. He nuzzled her neck, his lips exploring her skin as he caught his breath. He still held her pinned to the bed, and Eden quivered with aftershocks from the excitement of still being trapped beneath him. Being so thoroughly owned by him, as though he’d invisibly marked her, was the most amazing thing she’d ever felt. She was fully and truly his.

  After a long moment, he rolled off her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. His reverence for lovemaking, for her, left her reeling, like she’d stumbled into a wide world of amazing wonders. Every time he touched her, it felt like magic. It was the one thing she’d always craved in a relationship yet had never found, until him. How could she feel this way for a stranger? Emotion choked her words deep into her throat when she would have spoken to him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his deep voice almost rumbling like a jaguar’s growl.

  She finally managed to find her tongue. “Yes. Being with you, it’s just so different.” She flushed and hid her face in his shoulder.

  “Is that bad?”

  She sensed a hint of worry in his tone. She raised her head to stare at him. “No, no. It’s a good thing. I’m just not used to it. But . . . it’s what I’ve always wanted with a man.” Growing up in the wild the jungle made him see her in a way that others did not. It was freeing, to know she could open up to him like this.

  Thorne threaded his fingers through her hair, smiling. His sweet yet seductive expression melted her heart, and she cuddled closer. He tightened his arm around her body and pressed a kiss to her forehead, the touch both warm and tender. Eden closed her eyes, taking in the scent of the jungle, rain, and man, burning it into her mind forever. Now was the time to tell him about his uncle and the new life that awaited him.