“It's the directive, Jim. Tree dudes don't hurt the women.”
She knew all this time. Jim's hands drop, glowering. “So you wanted to have-you wanted me to have sex with you?”
Adira flips a palm in his direction. “Duh.” She crosses her arms again.
Jim sits down on his ass. Hard.
He looks around their little resting place. Ulric and the other survivors are doing their own pow-wow. Jim knows Ulric will be wanting to return to the clan soon. But Jim wants the emotional hatches battened down. He's not returning to Planet of the Apes unless some shit is straight.
Jim shakes the mental cobwebs loose. “So you're not thinking about...” he rubs his jaw, unable to articulate anything.
“No. I-I liked it.”
Jim's head snaps to her. “You did?”
Her face turns red and Jim stands, taking a step nearer to her. “You did. You liked,” he rakes fingers through his hair, “what I did to you,” he finishes in a low voice.
“Yeah,” she looks down at her very human feet and says in a whisper, “I can't wait for you to do it again.”
Jim can't stop the groan as his prick becomes hard. “How do you do that?” he asks, almost to the point of pain.
She gives a little shrug. “I think we're like, joined now. The Record Keeper says that when the female part of the pair wants to, ya know, do the pelvic grind, the male will make it so,” she says, making little airquotes around the formal part of her comment.
Jim would really like to give all that his full attention. But words like joined and pelvic grind get him on point.
He puts his hands on his hips. “Pelvic grind? Really?” He chuckles.
She laughs too, then her laughter is replaced with a smirk. “I thought you'd dig that. Ya know, our earth slang.” Her eyebrow pops.
A sudden pang of desolate homesickness wallops Jim upside the head. He wants to be home so bad the feeling makes his body ache.
“What?” she asks with a twinge of concern threading through her voice and she closes the short distance between them.
He lifts a shoulder. “Just missing earth, ya know?”
She nods. “Every day.” Then Adira brightens. “At least now that you're human we might be able to get home.”
Jim stops breathing. “What did you say?” His voice is sharp and Adira flinches.
“I don't want us to stop seeing each other, though.” Adira bites her lip, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes.
“I think we're way past ʻseeing each other,ʼ” Jim says slowly.
“Jim?” Adira asks. But she sounds like she's coming from far away. Jim is already pivoting and striding toward Ulric, who was deep in conversation with the female he'd been screwing into the ground about a half hour ago. Her eyes widen at whatever she sees on Jim's face.
Jim's going to get some goddamned answers. Right Now.
Ulric gauges his march-like approach, and raises his eyebrows, concern knotting his brow. “Jim?”
“Am I a guy again?” Jim barks at Ulric.
Ulric scowls. “You have always been male.” He says with an obviousness that makes Jim's teeth clamp.
“No! You asshat ape! A non-ape. A homo-fucking-sapiens for fuck's sake!” Jim rants.
Ulric punches him.
It's so unexpected Jim lands for the second time flat on his back.
Right before the stars engulf his vision, Jim raises his hands.
They're hairless, the knuckles the same smooth ones he was born with.
His breath leaves him with a wheeze and it's lights out.
Chapter 40
Elise
Elise arches her back, unable to be still.
Adahy is buried beneath her light sleep skirt, his face between her legs.
What he does.
She cannot possibly live through the onslaught of pleasure his tongue, and lips bring. Yet she does.
Her skirt is suddenly bunched in fists at either side of her hips as he works her slick sex.
Elise groans and Adahy's emerald eyes roll to meet hers up the length of her body.
Elise's chest is heaving. Not from fear, but arousal.
“Elise like?” he asks softly and his hot breath against her most tender area causes her to shiver.
“Yes,” she croaks, “very much.”
A pleased smile curves his mouth and he is back at her sex, tonguing her as thoroughly as he had her mouth in the stolen moments of the journey.
Elise thought he would take her, as the Fragment had before. She assumed he would not hurt her in the taking, but had given it no thought.
But this—this that he does with his mouth? The hot organ of her thoughts trembles at her entrance. Seeking. Then it is suddenly inside her and Elise's hips buck at the sensation.
Her legs fall open and Adahy's muscular shoulders bunch as he swims deeper into her sex, into her depths.
Adahy kisses her, and she shudders, fingertips tightening in his hair. “Adahy make pleasure.”
“Oh yes,” she manages to breathe amongst the frenzy of her need.
Their eyes meet and he asks clearly for permission. Whatever he wishes to do, she trusts him, though she knows not what it is.
Elise nods and his lips wrap a small little part of her high in the slit of her sex and he sucks. She clenches her hands in the mass of his ebony hair, feeling something on the edge of her body circling. Some great shining mass building, and Elise instinctively begins to move her hips.
Elise feels his finger slide inside her and she stills—remembering.
He does not pause, instead, he flicks his tongue over the little bundle and when Adahy feels Elise relax into his hold again, he begins to move his finger in and out of her.
“Oh,” Elise sighs, and presses her hips against his hand, grabbing at the motion while his mouth works the little sensitive bundle of flesh.
The pressure builds deep inside her body and her breath staggers, heartbeat hammering inside her chest. He must stop.
He must never stop.
Adahy presses his mouth against her in a hard, flat-tongued press, simultaneously inserting a second finger, and Elise is pushed over the edge of worry, fear and arousal.
The emotions swarm her senses and she cries out, her sex pulsing around Adahy's fingers.
“Ah!” Elise cries out and he softly slows himself, syncing his movements with those of her body.
Her legs and arms are weights by her side, heartbeat galloping like a free horse. Elise opens her eyes and watches the sun's patterns dance over Adahy's naked body as he stands on his knees, between her legs.
Her breath catches at the sight of him. Dark muscled skin stretches taut to narrow hips. His maleness is showcased perfectly between powerful legs.
“Adahy take Elise.”
“Yes,” she says, spreading her legs for him, and he reaches a gentle finger to her sex, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves he had made love to with his lips.
Elise cries out, writhing again as an aftershock of the pleasure he made for her comes again. “Adahy—yes.”
He gives his shy smile and slowly lowers his body over her own.
His black hair sweeps down, shielding their faces from the dappled sunlight and she feels him at her entrance.
Unlike before, his hardness is welcome, her sex is prepared and she meets him.
Adahy sinks himself inside her bit by bit and she squirms beneath him, drawing in each hard inch he allows.
Tentatively she reaches behind him and clasps her hands at his buttocks. She urges him forward until he is stretching her, filling her with his huge length.
So big.
But Elise feels that delightful pressure build again and he stills.
“Elise good?” he asks softly.
“More,” she answers and his low chuckle is wonderful music to her ears.
He withdraws slowly and Elise is empty without him inside her.
When Adahy pushes inside her again she is more than ready and
meets him thrust for thrust.
Their bodies move together as though made for each other. The clothes Adahy pushed underneath her hips to cushion her aid in the angle of her hips as he plants himself deeply.
She knows that he will release when his tempo speeds.
Elise cannot mask her surprise when he grasps the sides of her face. “Look at Adahy.”
She does.
His love for her darkens his eyes, rendering them almost black. They hood and he shudders above her, releasing his seed.
He moves subtly and high and her own release takes her by surprise. Ripples of pleasure tear through her body, shredding her senses, and leaving her lightheaded.
“Adahy,” she says, a bit frightened by her body's response.
He curls his strong arms beneath her shoulders, kissing every bit of her face and she smells her sex upon his mouth.
Elise smiles beneath his lips.
“What wrong?” he asks between kisses that rain down on her face.
She looks up into his eyes, gradually coming back down to earth—heartbeat returning to normal—no longer feeling faint.
Adahy's head pulls back, his green eyes so serious. Thoughtful.
She touches his high cheekbone. “Nothing.” Unbidden tears slip out of her eyes.
“Adahy hurt Elise?” His brows come together in furious confusion.
Elise shakes her head just as vehemently. “No,” she whispers.
“Why Elise cry?” Adahy asks, shifting his weight to make himself lighter above her.
“Because I am happy.”
Adahy's frown deepens. “Elise happy?” he asks suspiciously, and Elise's tears dry as a giggle slips out.
Adahy gently rolls off and rests his head on his elbow. He moves a large palm across her naked hip and her laughter dies.
“Adahy happy,” he says in his plain spoken way, voice soft.
Elise nods, capturing his hand and bringing it to her lip. She kisses each knuckle, many holding the scars of battle. Elise rolls her face against the back of his large, warm hand and sighs.
“Sometimes tears are happy,” she tries to explain in Iroquois.
“Your body is happy with Adahy,” he says and his hand covers her sex.
Elise gasps, quickly nodding. “Yes,” she agrees, heat moving to her face.
Adahy's light frown vanishes, a smile replacing it when he notices her blush. “You like Adahy.” His eyebrows lift.
Elise feels her immediate smile. “No.”
Adahy sits up straight and so does she. She grips his shoulders, turning his stern face with her finger to look into her eyes.
“I do not like Adahy,” her eyes force him to look at her.
“I love him.” Elise wraps her arms around his thick neck. “Elise loves Adahy so much,” she chokes against his skin.
He hears her.
Adahy lifts her into his arms, and with a deftness that astounds, tosses the remainder of her blouse on the rock.
“What?” she begins to ask but Adahy shakes his head.
“Adahy clean Elise.”
Oh.
He must interpret her question. “It is Iroquois tradition. Once married, the husband must sanctify the wife,” he explains in his native tongue.
“We are married—joined?” Elise asks in wonder.
Adahy steps into the steaming water and slowly lowers her inside.
The heat feels good after their coupling and she sighs as the heated water flows everywhere that is deliciously sore.
He puts their joined hands above his heart. “Adahy yours from the first time,” he points to his eyes as Elise floats in his loose embrace.
I was yours from the first time I saw you, Elise roughly translates.
“Adahy married to Elise long time now.” He taps his temple, then spreads his fingers over his heart.
Adahy smiles.
Sometimes a simple way is the very best.
She smiles back.
Adahy cleans her. Very thoroughly.
He pauses his cleansing in the next few hours to do other things.
Chapter 41
Ulric
Of course Ulric notices instantly that Jim has turned back into his human form.
Yet, he is so distraught he needs stopping.
Now.
Ulric strikes him. Hard enough to knock some sense into the young male, but not so hard as to cause permanent injury.
Ulric frowns as Jim stumbles backward without his normal grace and lands hard on his backside.
Maybe I struck with too much force.
“Ulric,” Natasha says softly from behind him.
He opens his palm in the direction of her voice, and she slips her hand inside his.
“Perhaps you struck our Jim a little too hard.” Her reprimand is non-existent. Yet, he hears it clearly.
“You're goddamned right you did!” Adira shouts, marching toward him.
Ulric's exhale is tired.
They need to return to the clan but the two of the tree who are the newest are also the most trouble.
Natasha's skin is smooth and slightly warm as she lays the side of her face between his shoulder blades. Tension eases from his body. And he clasps her hand against his chest. Her other arm winds around his waist.
He can fight it no longer. Ulric has taken Natasha as mate. Whether it was right—or wrong. They were caught up in the post-battle lust and that cannot be fought or tampered with.
The coming together in the fight for a female is the most primal directive those of the tree can have.
A private spot in his heart is most glad.
His eyes find those of Brom.
Anger is clear fire in his gaze. There is no dampening its spark. It is apparent to Ulric that Brom thought to make his way free of ties to Ulric's clan.
And tether himself to Natasha.
That is not how events displaced themselves. Natasha is Ulric's.
Brom had no female to rut with.
Adira and Natasha were accounted for, but the other three females were missing.
That fact of their absence was enough to get Ulric moving.
He walks first to Jim's position as he glares up at him.
Ulric reaches down with his palm and Natasha falls away from him, fingertips reluctant to leave his flesh.
Ulric represses a shiver of sheer lust at her touch with some effort.
“You're an asshole,” Jim comments but he slaps his hand into Ulric's.
“Yes. But you had gotten ahead of yourself, Jim.”
They turn to Adira as she halts in front of Ulric and slaps his face.
Natasha gasps and faster than any of them can track, Ulric captures the small female's wrist.
A powerful ripple of oppression reminds him of the directive, which he has no trouble thinking of.
“Don't you fucking touch her, Ulric,” Jim says, as though against his will.
Ulric's lips curl. “Wouldn't dream of it, Jim. My directive is no different than your own. However, I will not stand and be a punching bag.”
Jim frowns. “You creep me out when you switch vernaculars.”
Adira squirms. “Yeah, what he said.”
Ulric thinks he has a solution that will help all. And now that Jim has shifted back into his human form, and after they return to the clan, Ulric will make it so. But for the moment, he smooths the ruffled feathers of the few who remain.
Ulric lifts a palm, giving a hard glance of entreaty at Jim.
Jim's intelligence is more a tool at his disposal than he knows, and it doesn't fail him now.
His attention leaves the two of them and Ulric drops Adira's hand.
She sidles closer to Jim.
Jim studies Brom. “What's your story?”
Brom pegs his hands on his powerful hips, still in his gorillan form. “My story is: the plan for a new way of life is ruined. The false males of the tree have decimated my options.”
Ulric shakes his head. “I think we can come to new terms
that will assist you with your endeavors.”
Jim scowls, giving Ulric a look that invites explanation.
Ulric gives him one back that says, later.
Jim folds his arms impatiently.
Ulric withholds a small smile. Jim has been truly wonderful in many ways. But his ways are not those of the Tree. And soon, those objectives Jim holds so dear will come to pass as ones that ostracize him from this world.
“Will you return to the Tree?” Ulric suddenly asks Brom.
Flies begin to buzz around the corpses of the false males at their feet.
“Gross,” Adira mutters from Jim's side.
Brom looks around at the corpses, noting—Ulric's sure—the absence of the females and the deaths of the males he took with him for a new life of the Tree and nods. “I will hear you.”
Ulric walks away from Brom, Jim and Adira, making his way to the clan.
Natasha walks with him, and Ulric slows to match her strides, keeping tight hold of her hand.
Chapter 42
Jim
Jim stomps after the uber-calm Ulric with a shit ton of grump in his shorts.
Fucking Brom? Really? That pudwacker should have been put out to pasture like a cow with a case of mad. Yeah.
But oh-no, let's invite Brom back into the fold, after three females are MIA, and every male beside them are dead.
Ulric's smart, so there must be some other reason. And not a word has been uttered about Jim's shift to human.
Not my monkey, not my circus.
But him being human again is very much on his radar. Now he's finally a guy again instead of an almost seven foot tall apeman.
Jim thinks he could have gotten used to it after all. But the truth is, not having the choice had made him crazy. Never going back to his earth, never feeling fully human again.
Never being the scientist he was born to be. Nah. Better to be human.
“Jim!” Adira calls from behind him and he slows.
She jogs to him and Jim reaches for her hand automatically. That pisses him off. Their tie.
But she had enjoyed being with him (she said). She hadn't double-crossed him (yet). Things were looking up.
“What is Ulric gonna do?” she asks.
Jim shakes his head. “Don't know. Don't like it.”
“Me either,” she admits with more than a hint of nervousness.
savage 07 - the dark savage Page 21