by Kate Steele
“Please, Tal. Please. Fuck me!” she begged.
Tal reached into the bedside stand and opened a small drawer, removing a firm, flesh-colored object that was about four inches long and as broad as two of his fingers together. He brought it to Lira’s attention.
“What is it?” she panted.
“An anal plug,” he answered. “Will you take it, Lira? Remember how my fingers took you? I promise it will enhance your pleasure.”
She remembered the burning pleasure-pain of his possession at the river. A hard, hot wave of lust swept her body as she nodded her acceptance.
“On your stomach, basaya,” he ordered.
His words made her pause. “I’m not,” she told him.
“Not what?”
Lira rolled to her stomach, the side of her face against the pillow, her voice muffled, “A basaya.”
Tal leaned over her, pulling long strands of wildly wavy, silky hair back from her face. “You are a beauty, Lira, my basaya.” His hand landed a stinging swat on one rounded globe of her ass. “Never doubt that. Now, on your knees, basaya.”
Lira gasped with surprise and immediately obeyed. She complied when Tal urged her thighs wider and moved between them. Once again his mouth found her creaming cunt, his tongue swirling over the swollen tissues, drawing muffled moans from her. She felt his tongue pulling a trail of warm cream from her slit, not realizing his intention until his tongue laved her taut, tiny rosebud. She shrieked at the shock of his touch, her head coming up from the pillows.
“Tal, what are you doing?!”
Primitive, aggressive man answered. “Taking you down!” Another stinging swat landed on her upturned buttocks.
His actions brought her own primal reaction. She felt a hot sweep of defiance but hissed and obeyed, her eyes glittering.
The hard puff of Tal’s breath caressed her bottom. She was unable to contain her shocked cry of pleasure or the resistant clench of her silky pucker as his tongue slid over the taut ruched flesh. Lira quivered, her face flushing, breath panting. Tal seemed to revel in the task. His tongue glided, lubricating and probing the tiny pink entrance. She felt a finger swirl in the leaking cream from her cunt, then gasped as it was placed at her tight rosebud. It penetrated, Lira whimpering as it sank into the dark, humid depths of her ass.
“It’s all right, Lira—you can take it, basaya,” he soothed.
Lira writhed with the burning pleasure and pain as Tal prepared her. His one smoothly stroking finger was joined by two, then three, stretching her entrance, scissoring inside the taut ring, opening her for the plug. Lubricating it with her own cream, he withdrew his fingers and slowly inserted the plug. Lira’s agonized wail echoed through the room. Bright hot flares of pleasure-pain bit at her, nearly driving her over the edge to release. As her body bucked, she barely felt Tal drape his body over hers, his furred chest teasing her back, his nipples rising hard and taut, boring into her skin.
“Taaal,” she moaned beneath him. “Goddess! What are you doing to me?”
“Loving you, basaya, loving you. Are you ready for me, Lira?”
“Yes! Yes, please! Before I lose my mind.”
Tal chuckled. “Anything for you, tezza. Everything.”
She felt the plump, throbbing head of his cock against her swollen slit. Her throat tightened as he breached the tight entrance, sliding into her tight-fisted volcanic heat. Her tiny whimper joined Tal’s deep, guttural growl as he powered through the tight muscles that resisted his penetration. Deeper and deeper he pushed until fully buried, his hard flesh pulsing and throbbing inside her quivering cunt.
With his first powerful stroke, Lira cried out, the pleasure unbearable, agonizing. Each stroke brought a more desperate wail, until she screamed, her body convulsing under him. Already impossibly tight, her vagina sought to strangle the thick invader that pierced it. Tal thrust once, twice, and with a shout, unleashed his restraint. Hot fluid spurted from his deeply buried cock again and again as it filled and overflowed her gripping sheath.
Tal collapsed to his side, taking Lira with him. After he gently removed the plug, she lay silent, quivering with the receding waves of pleasure. Tal kissed her temple, whispering her name. His whisper conveyed a wealth of meaning. Though he did not say the word—love—it was there in his voice. She lay against him, listening to his breathing. It grew slow and even as he courted sleep. She’d heard the emotion in his voice, not only with her ears, but with her heart. And though she realized she loved him in return, she could not bear the thought of the bitterness that would grow between them when she failed him. Failed to be the wife he needed, just as his mother had failed his father. Dry-eyed, Lira lay staring into the darkness. It reflected the future that lay before her without him.
* * * * *
Having eased out of bed without disturbing Tal, Lira stood in the Hall of the Mother. Fully dressed and ready to leave, she had but one more thing to attend to.
She approached the altar, kneeling before it.
“It was not my choice,” she admonished. “Take it back.” She held out her hand, palm up. Pain and anger sluiced through her. “Take it back! I will not allow you to hurt him.”
Tears filled her eyes. She brought her will to bear, intent on forcing the Orb from her body. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she strained with the effort. Finally, feeling as though her head were about to explode, she forced herself to stop. For the first time in years, Lira wept. Not a simple tear or two, but great tearing sobs that tore at her throat as she rocked with agony.
After a time the tears eased. Lira straightened, “Mother, please,” she whispered, “I don’t want to hurt him. Let him have the kind of wife he deserves. I beg you, please.”
Lira froze. A soft glow filled her palm. She felt the Orb’s protest, disapproval and regret. It emerged and drifted like a feather to land lightly on its accustomed place on the altar. Standing on unsteady legs, Lira felt empty. She let her gaze rest once more upon the Orb.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”
She turned with a wobble and stepped away from the altar. Each subsequent step grew steadier and—with head held high—she left behind the Orb and Tal and her heart.
Chapter Seven
“Do you intend to pout, or do you intend to go after her?”
Tal continued to stare morosely down at his boots. “She made her choice. She doesn’t want to be here, or to be my tezza. She doesn’t want me.” Though he showed no outward emotion, inside, the words made him sick.
Tal had awoken at first light to find Lira gone. Not finding her in his chambers, he’d dressed and gone in search of her, only to learn that she was gone. Taking her horse and all her possessions, she had ridden away, leaving not a word behind, only the Orb. And him.
Galatin continued to prod him. “I thought you were an intelligent man, but I see I was mistaken.”
Anger coursing though his veins, Tal whirled to face him. “What would you have of me, Guardian? Must I hear it from her lips? Was her leaving not proof of her feelings? Shall I cut out my heart and hand it to her? So help me, I would if I thought it would make a difference, for Goddess knows, I’ve no use for it now she’s gone.”
Tal turned away to stare with unseeing eyes at the garden.
“Talrion,” Galatin spoke with soft sympathy, “What do you know of Lira?”
“Beyond the fact that she’s wise, funny, honest, compassionate, loving, strong and independent?” Tal shrugged. “Very little I suppose.”
Galatin snorted. “It sounds like you know my cousin well. But not as well as you should. Do you think it possible that Lira left because she was afraid?”
“Afraid? Of what? Certainly not me.” Tal shook his head. It was inconceivable that Lira held much fear of anything.
“Not afraid of you, afraid for you,” Galatin replied.
“Guardian, you speak in riddles that make my head ache. Is plain language beyond you?” Tal retorted.
�
��Very well, my impatient friend. I think it possible that Lira was afraid she would not be able to make you happy. As a huntress, she is hardly a conventional woman.”
It was Tal’s turn to snort. “Who said I wanted a conventional woman?”
“Did you ever say as much to Lira?” Galatin inquired with a raised brow.
“Of course I didn’t. The subject never came up.” Tal’s eyes were filled with speculation, then growing hope. “Galatin, are you sure?”
“Think about it, High One. You yourself mentioned her independence.”
Tal thought of their conversations, remembering her remark the day they arrived.
“I understand wanting to be accepted for yourself. More than you’ll ever know.”
In that moment, Tal knew Galatin was right. “I’ve got to find her.”
Galatin grinned. “She’ll head for home. Her sister, Sala, is with child. Lira promised she’d return for the birth.”
Tal headed for the door. He’d have supplies gathered and be on his way within the hour.
“Talrion!” Galatin called, “Take this with you.”
Tal turned and caught the pouch Galatin tossed his way. He grinned as he felt the round object inside. “My thanks, Guardian. For everything.”
* * * * *
Tal stared into the fire. He’d made it as far as the Katal River Falls before darkness fell. Having pushed his horse hard, he’d decided to stop at the clearing he and Lira had once shared. His eyes wandered the site, his mind filling with images of her. Cooking the kinti, sharing their meal, talking, laughing, bathing in the river and most of all—making love.
The rustle of undergrowth alerted him to the presence of something. Tal shot to his feet, sword drawn. His horse gave a welcoming whinny as Lira and her mount stepped from the wood.
“May I share your camp, Warrior?” she asked tentatively.
Tal’s tongue released from the roof of his mouth. “You are most welcome, Huntress.”
He followed her movements as she cared for her horse, then approached the fire. Opening her bedroll, she settled herself across the fire from him.
“I have food if you’re hungry,” Tal told her, keeping his eyes on the dancing flames.
“I am not, but I thank you for the offer,” she replied.
Tal felt her eyes on him. He looked up. Recreating their first meeting he questioned, “Where are you bound for, Huntress?”
“Feratil, I have unfinished business there.” Lira followed his lead. “Are you of the Finn Mal clan?”
Tal nodded. “I am. Is there anything I might help you with?”
“Perhaps,” she hedged. “Do you know if High Chief Talrion has found a tezza yet?”
Tal raised a mocking brow. “I can safely say that Talrion is without encumbrance.”
“Do you know your High Chief well?” she asked solemnly.
“We are the best of friends, Huntress,” Tal assured her.
“Then perhaps you can answer this question. Do you think Talrion would accept as wife, a woman such as myself? One who has no interest in tending a hearth? Who would rather be out wandering woods such as these?” Lira asked the question with a slight quaver in her voice.
Tal was done playing games. “I would never clip your wings, Lira. I have no desire to chain you to my hearth. Had you but stayed long enough to see, you would know there are plenty in the High Chieftain’s residence to take care of such chores.” His eyes bored into hers, desperate for a glimpse of her heart. “There are but three things I would ask of you. The first is children, a son to carry on our name and traditions, and a daughter who perhaps might someday carry her mother’s bow.”
Lira nodded, her throat tight. “That would be acceptable.”
Tal felt his heart begin to soar. “Second, when you travel, I would wish to accompany you sometimes. It’s good for a High Chief to be in company with one who’s not impressed with his title. Keeps him humble.”
Lira smiled and nodded her agreement as moisture gleamed in her eyes.
“And lastly,” Tal paused and cleared a voice that had gone husky with pent-up emotion. “I would ask that when you travel alone, you stay safe and promise always to return to me. For I love you, Lira. I have no wish to be without you.”
“Tal,” she whispered, her throat closed with tears. They both rose as Lira circled the fire and threw herself into his waiting arms. “I love you, too. I had to come back. I was so wrong to leave. I’m so sorry, Tal, so sorry I hurt you.” Lira was covering his face with desperate kisses as tears streamed from her eyes.
“Hush, beloved, you are back. That’s all that matters.” He took her lips with his in a kiss that revealed all his pent-up love and longing.
When they were able to pull apart, Tal drew from under his shirt the small pouch that dangled from the waistband of his leathers. He opened the drawstring, dumping the contents into the palm of his hand. The Orb rolled out, its glow dancing and flickering.
“I think it’s happy to see you,” Tal commented with a smile. Taking Lira’s hand, his eyes found and held hers. The love and want visible in his sent a tidal wave of heat charging through her body. “The Orb chose you Lira, but my choice was made before ever it felt your presence. Will you accept me, be my tezza?”
Without hesitation she replied, “With all my heart, Tal.”
Tal placed the Orb in her hand where it blazed gaily, wrapping the two of them in its pearlescent shimmer before it disappeared into her palm with an almost audible sigh of satisfaction and contentment.
Later that night as they lay naked and sated, Lira asked Tal what he had had to do to perform the ritual of seeking.
His laughter rang out as her voice rose indignantly, “The Handmaiden did what to you!?”
About the author:
Having been an avid reader of romance for years, and being possessed of an overactive imagination, Kate decided only recently to try her hand at writing. She discovered that, like reading, writing romance has become addictive. Whether writing about werewolves and otherworldly creatures or contemporary gay/erotic romance, she has found the perfect outlet and is thrilled to be part of the Ellora's Cave family.
Kate lives in a turn-of-the-century house located on three acres in the midst of Indiana farm country. Keeping her company is her family, dogs, and other assorted pets.
Kate welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.
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