by Vonna Harper
Anything. “What?”
“Nezahualcoyotl.”
“Who is—was he? A god?”
“No. My lord and leader.”
What Dana found wasn’t so much a lord and leader as the man historians had identified as the poet-king, a philosopher. Many of his poems had survived the Aztec destruction, including one that made her wonder if he’d known what was going to happen to his people when they tried to control everything and everyone in their world. He’d written, “All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it. Nothing is so perfect that it does not descend to its tomb. Rivers, rivulets and water flow, but never return to their joyful beginnings; anxiously they hasten to the vast realms of the rain god. As they widen their banks, they fashion the sad urn of their burial”.
In addition to his observations on nature and humans, Nezahualcoyotl had also been the king of Tetzcoco, a neighboring city-state to Tenochtitlan where so many sacrifices had been carried out at the Great Temple. His leadership had ushered an age of intellectual achievement for his people because he ruled according to lofty principles developed during his youth. He’d been a teenager when he’d seen his father killed by invaders and after that he’d gone into exile for some eight years. Eventually, through a combination of help from Aztec allies and battles, he’d won his throne, and from that position he’d became a patron of art and science. He’d built a temple without idols which was dedicated to a single deity referred to as the unknown god.
What stood out the most was that he’d banned human sacrifice at his temple. His son Nezahualpilli had ascended the throne when the boy was seven and reigned for forty-four years during which he advanced his father’s ideals. Despite her dogged research, Dana couldn’t find out what had happened to Nezahualcoyotl.
If she knew, then maybe she’d know what Nacon’s life had been like.
“I’m trying to understand,” she told Nacon even though she wasn’t sure he could hear. “I’m feeling overwhelmed, by everything. I need to talk to someone, but not you because you confuse me.” And around you I can’t think of anything except sex.
When her cell phone rang that evening, her first and obviously irrational thought was that Nacon was getting in touch with her via modern technology. Instead, she heard her father’s voice, and as always she was struck by how rusty it sounded, as if he seldom spoke.
“Dad!” she exclaimed. “Did you know I’ve been thinking about you?”
“That’s what you say every time I call. Of course I can read your mind; you know that.”
Mind reading between the two of them had been a long-running joke, in part because striking a light note was easier than trying to explain whether they were psychically tapped into each other, something she more than half believed. “You can, can you?” she challenged. “Tell me this then, besides my old man, what have I been thinking about?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she clamped her hands over it.
“Do you want me to say?”
“No! Look, all I’m going to say is that your daughter is no longer a little girl. I’m sorry if I’ve shocked you.”
“I don’t shock.”
“That’s good.” Leaning back in the musty-smelling couch, she tried to picture what her father was wearing. Probably a faded T-shirt and equally faded jeans and most likely no shoes. He’d be in need of a shave, his eyelids drooping a little and adding to the melancholy look she’d had no choice but to accept. He could be anywhere, doing whatever he needed to pay his bills, caring little about creature comforts and undoubtedly already thinking about where he might go next. Waves of restlessness emanated from the tall and lean man who’d never, despite a lifetime of looking, found a place to put down roots. “Where are you?”
“I’m not sure because I’ve been driving for hours. I just got back from—from a place I’ve always wanted to take you.”
“Which is?” He’d sometimes alluded to this mysterious place, but she’d never been able to get a decent explanation from him. “Any idea what part of the country you’re in? If I gave you directions, could you—”
“I know how to find you. How is it going? Your mother told me you’re working on something involving jaguars.”
The way he said the word jaguar caught her attention and reminded her of her mother’s tone when she’d done the same thing, but she decided to focus on what else he’d just told her. “You’ve been talking to Mom? When? The last time she and I spoke, she said she hadn’t heard from you.”
“I called her yesterday. It was the anniversary of the day we met.”
Tears burned, forcing Dana to close her eyes. Why hadn’t her parents been able to make it work? And would she ever find a man with whom she’d have that kind of connection? “It’s good to hear from you,” she said when she trusted her voice.
“What’s happening, honey? And don’t tell me nothing, because I know better.”
Thinking she was going to stand, she leaned forward, but then she fell back and stared at the ceiling with its cobwebs. “I’m giving off vibes?”
“More than vibes.” A sigh reached across the miles. “Why jaguars?”
She hadn’t expected that, but lost no time telling him about her determination to draw attention to the endangered animals’ plight. He said little as she told him about Aztec, but she had no doubt that he’d accurately read her tone. “I feel connected to him,” she admitted. “Yes, he’s a wild animal, not my soul-mate, but there’s something about him that—maybe it’s my tattoo. I think this is the first time I’ve seen a real jaguar.”
Silence spun out between them.
“What?” she finally asked.
“It’s happening. I didn’t know whether it would, or maybe the truth is, I’ve long hoped it wouldn’t. You’re my daughter, even in ways I wish you weren’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
Although he didn’t immediately answer, this time she didn’t say anything. “I should have taken you with me when your mother and I divorced. I wanted to.”
Struck by the pain in his words, she muttered, “I know.”
“I didn’t because I was the cause of the break-up, and I couldn’t take everything from her.”
She’d heard that before from both of her parents. Unfortunately, the admission only spawned more questions that all boiled down to one: Why had her father left? The answer was simple: restlessness. But why hadn’t he been able to find any place where he wanted to live?
“Dad, when can I see you? I’d love—I really nee—”
“I know you do. And I want the same thing, which is why I called. Honey, much as I’d like to see you today, what’s happening to you right now, you need to focus on it, not let me distract you.”
“What is happening to me? If you’re talking about my obsession with jaguars—”
“That’s only part of it. Dana, honey, listen to me. I’m not going to explain why I know what I do because—because I’m not. You’re going to be changed by what you learn and experience, but there’s no danger. Embrace every piece of knowledge that comes your way,” he continued. “And know that I’m beside you in spirit.”
“You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”
“Not detail upon detail, but yes.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because the same thing happened and is still happening to me.”
Chapter Eleven
Something silken caressed her throat, legs and outstretched arms. Curious, she tried to roll onto her side only to discover she couldn’t move. Concern briefly constricted her throat, but then she told herself there was nothing to fear because whoever had done this intended her no harm. Why would he when he’d gone to this much trouble to provide her with a luxurious bed?
Movement at the far end of wherever she was alerted her to a living presence, but because this place was dark, she could only wait. Closer and closer the presence glided until her nerve endings supplied the necessary explanation—a man.
The bed
sagged under his weight as he climbed onto it beside her. By putting all her willpower into the act, she managed to turn her head toward him, but he was all shadow, heated shadow.
“Claiming time,” he said in a voice that sounded as if it came from the earth’s belly. “I’m claiming you.”
She tried to swallow so she could ask for an explanation, but still couldn’t make her muscles work. And now that she’d turned her head, she was exhausted. One thing she knew, he expected her to wait and anticipate.
She’d do that of course; she had no choice.
He touched her, a single knuckle gliding over her side. A silent sob sank into her. Lesson learned. She might not be able to move, but she could feel.
Feel the knuckle work its way around the underside of both breasts and then between them. Track its journey down to your belly, its brief dip into your navel, through your pubic hair, to the cleft of your sex.
“Claiming. Branding,” he said.
No, not a brand. Instead, his knuckle and then his fingertips and finally his lips caressed her helpless flesh. He first kissed and next nibbled her collarbone, ran his nails over her ears, slid his fingers into her hair, widened her legs and buried his head in the space he’d created.
She cried, sobbed, begged, promised, although only she could hear herself. And when he blew his breath over her shoulders and drew her fingers into his mouth so he could suck on them, she thrashed and pleaded, but only in her mind.
On fire, firing, exploding. Helpless to stop him.
Not wanting to.
What now? Oh, his mouth poised over her breast, coming closer, taking, sucking. Need chased through her, and she would have given everything she had to be able to tell him how much she loved having him at her breast. But he’d rendered her silent. Silent and malleable. Alive.
Back to her crotch, blowing on her exposed and vulnerable tissues. Widening her even more and lowering his head again, this time so he could lap her labia and push his tongue into her opening.
Fighting, screaming, terrified he’d force her over the edge. Pleading and promising, begging for more and demanding less, all without moving a single muscle.
“Imprinting you with me.”
“Why, why?”
“Because I can. Because I must.”
What, ah, his hands sliding under her buttocks so he could lift her off the bed he’d gifted her with.
Waiting, sweating, swearing, shaking.
Remembering another time like this.
His tongue in her again, diving deep and hard and then withdrawing so he could draw her labia into his mouth. Sucking on her, owning her, making her shake anew.
And then, just before the explosion could hit, rolling her onto her back, patting her buttocks and walking away.
“Claimed.”
A cage? No, that wasn’t right because instead of bars, she was surrounded by vegetation. But the growth was so thick and tall that she hadn’t been able to find a way out, and even if she could, what difference did it make because her hands were tied behind her and something soft but strong roped her ankles, making it impossible for her to take a step.
Naked, of course naked. Alone. Vulnerable.
A scent reached her. Even before she acknowledged it as come, she’d awkwardly dropped to her knees, lifted her head and opened her mouth in preparation for receiving the gift.
There he was, only what was he? One instant she was looking at a man; the next, the man had given way to the largest jaguar she’d ever seen. Then she found herself staring at both of them. The two had one thing in common: they were coming toward her, stalking her, teeth exposed in possessive grins.
Man and animal had her. One or both had captured her, and she now belonged to them. Would they share or fight over her? Why hadn’t she remained on her feet, she wondered as sweat pooled in her armpits and another kind of liquid oozed over her labia.
The answer was simple. Because this way she could show them the truth about herself—subservient. Ready to be controlled.
Already claimed.
Closer and closer the man and animal came, only now they’d rolled into one so they were superimposed upon each other. Settling low on her haunches, she presented her breasts to the pair. They breathed and growled, walked and stalked. Hands and claws reached for her, but when the contact was made, she felt only the man’s fingers.
“You accept,” the man said with his hands around her throat. “And you understand.”
She understood nothing and everything. A single hard squeeze and she wouldn’t be able to breathe. A shove and she’d be on her side or back.
Don’t be afraid, someone had told her, and although she couldn’t remember who that someone was, her heartbeat remained slow and steady. At the same time her breath came in quick bursts that took the scent of come and sweat into her pores.
“We claim you,” the jaguar said. “Share you.”
“I understand.”
“We know you do.” The man again. “Because you are part of us.”
With that, he knelt beside her, pushed her onto her back and bent her knees outward. Even with her ankles still roped together, her pussy was fully exposed—hot and waiting. Fingers tested, entered, explored. Whimpering, she struggled to pull her bound hands out from behind her.
“No,” the jaguar warned. “No fighting. Only accepting.”
“I’m trying.”
“And no more speaking.” The man’s hands moved from her core back to her throat before pressing down on her windpipe. “Understand? Today there is only surrender.”
When she nodded, he rewarded her by releasing her throat. Sucking in the air he’d robbed her of briefly distracted her. By the time she’d returned to her body, a tongue was on her labia and clit. Desperate to obey the command not to speak, she clenched her teeth and rolled her head to the side so she could watch.
The jaguar, crouching low over her with his paws on either side of her hips. His large, rough tongue lapping up her juices and plowing into her. Finding her core. An anguished animal cry escaped, and she rode it into the air.
Growling, the jaguar kept after her.
“Come sit with us.”
They—man, jaguar and she—were in a room dominated by a massive bed. Man and animal were already on it, but she’d just entered the room. Standing with her back against the closed door, she absorbed the invitation. The man was as naked as the animal, the great jaguar equal to the man’s height. While the man was sitting with his back against the headboard, the cat stood with his claws punishing the sheet.
When she moved to cup her breasts, she discovered she was dressed in something white and soft and flowing. A wedding dress? Man and creature’s eyes told her to strip, so she reached behind her for the long zipper. Freeing it caused the fabric to sag instead of shelter her breasts, so she pulled it away from her body and folded it down so she was naked from the waist up.
“Finish,” the jaguar commanded.
She did, but kept her movements slow and sensual. Bit by bit she exposed her hips and thighs, discovering that she wore no underwear. When she reached her knees, she let go of the yards of fabric and watched as it drifted to the carpet. Stepping free, she kicked it aside, only to have it disappear. Her hair was waist length and rested on her shoulders, making her feel even more feminine than the wedding dress had.
Tossing back her head, she studied the two who were waiting for her. The man’s body was roped with muscles to rival that of the predator, causing her to ponder whether it was possible to fuck both of them at the same time. Yes, if she included her mouth or offered both holes to her masters, her equals, her future.
What was ass fucking like? If she’d ever done that, she had no memory, but then she’d never stood in this room before and known she had her choice of human or animal.
Walking, her feet sliding over rich carpet and her heart racing, her body heating. Man and creature’s gazes locked on the space between her legs. Still closing the distance between them, she swipe
d a finger over her cunt then placed it in her mouth. Sweet heat, the taste of need and insistence.
The jaguar lifted his lips and his nostrils flared, telling her that he smelled her need. The man smiled and nodded, letting her know that he understood his role was to service her.
Yes, she’d have them both, somehow. They were her mates after all, responsible for the now non-existent wedding dress. They wouldn’t be on the same bed if they were incapable of sharing her.
Desirable. Desired.
Calm, she headed for the foot of the bed and crawled onto it, letting those who’d claimed her know she intended to position herself between them. They were going to service her, together, equally, and when they’d satisfied her, she’d reward them with her screams.
The man grabbed her hair and hauled her onto his lap with her legs straddling his hips. Curling herself around him, she let him rest his head on her shoulder. A moment later, he straightened so he could take a breast into his mouth. Something rough stroked her back. Ah, the jaguar, licking her. Purring, she arched toward the big cat, and as she did, the man lifted her. When she came down, his cock powered into her. Even as he filled her, the jaguar closed his jaw around her shoulder, not biting, but not tender either.
The jaguar was massive, masterful. He was so close that his coat brushed against her hair. Gripping the man’s head with one arm for balance, she buried the fingers of her free hand in thick, short fur.
Two lovers.
A sudden, hot pain sliced into her shoulder, but died before she fully understood what had happened. She again turned toward the jaguar, this time just as he released her shoulder. The beast immediately began licking where he’d bitten, and as the long, firm, damp strokes continued, she forgave him. She would have told him she wanted him to take her next if the man hadn’t started moving under her. Repeatedly lifting his buttocks off the ground while holding onto her waist, he drove himself deep and full into her center, but much as she craved his gift, she understood that his position severely limited his ability to move.
Rising up on her knees, she clamped her pussy around his offering. Her grip on his head and the jaguar’s fur tightened. The beast moved with her, crouching low then stretching tall, his movements matching hers. And as he did, he nipped and licked, tasted and teased.