Eristta’s luscious pink lips opened and closed, but she remained speechless. He’d never known the elfin princess to be at a loss for words. He fought a chuckle and reached into the pouch at his waist, withdrawing a tightly wound stick of sweetgrass and sage. Kneeling, he struck his flint and lit it. The sweet smoke filled the clearing and encircled the pair. After a moment, Eristta joined him, sitting cross-legged as did he on the blanket of soft summer grass and fragrant pine needles.
“It is true. Both endearments.” Red Claw rested the smudge on a flat rock and breathed deep. The serious nature of what they were about to discuss weighed heavy on his soul, but he knew there was no turning back. The bear rumbled his disapproval, but Red Claw ignored his old friend.
With her head cocked to one side, Eristta appraised him openly, her expression one of anticipation and consternation. “How am I beloved, Red Claw? As a sister?”
Unable to stop himself, Red Claw took hold of Eristta’s arm. His fingers nearly encircled her biceps, and he recognized the fact that elf or no, with his shamanic powers, they were true equals. The thought thrilled him, bringing his need simmering to the surface. He leaned forward and placed a kiss in the smooth indentation of her temple. Her unique allure of moonlight and spring blossoms filled his senses, temporarily wiping anything from his mind but the idea of breathing in her essence.
Nearly painful desire rippled through him as she shifted closer. The heat from her body permeated the now narrow space between them, and Red Claw longed to crush her to him. To gently lap at the contours of her mouth before tasting her tongue.
Drawing on the self-control he’d perfected in the past three hundred years, Red Claw forced himself back, while still keeping hold of her arm. He was loath to release her. After what he had to say, she might choose to never have him touch her again. The idea sent a lance of pain through the shaman, and every muscle in his body tightened as if in defense of what was to come.
“I have longed every day and night since the moment you snuck into the baths at the palace to place my lips on you. To taste you, everywhere.”
Eristta shuddered in his grip, her eyes broadcasting her pleasure at his confession. “But what stopped you? Out with it, shaman,” she purred. “I will not think you a silly man for letting a dream—vision, stop you from coming after what you want. At this moment, it is almost enough to know that you wanted me.”
Her grin lit up the night and brought such a flood of joy to Red Claw’s heart, for a moment he considered making something up. But he knew he could not play Eristta false.
“Eristta, in my first days in Tir na n-Og, I had a vision. One that has haunted me.” He clenched his teeth against the memory. “It was of you…and I.” Red Claw captured Eristta’s rapt gaze, and his intent faltered. “I have never spoken of it.”
Folding her long legs beneath her, she sat up on her knees, facing him. “Then it is time you shared the burden.”
Which was when Red Claw knew he could not. Telling her would not be enough. It would sound unbelievable. And for him to base the past two hundred years of his life on it, even more ludicrous. He must show her. It was the feelings the image invoked that had stayed his hand this long time. It was the only way for her to truly understand.
Releasing her arm, Red Claw motioned for her hands. Raising a brow, Eristta placed her hands in his outstretched palms. “I must show you, wastelakapi. It is the only way.”
With smoke swirling around them, he began to chant. From deep within, Red Claw drew his power close, feeding it through the connection of their clasped hands. There was no time to rethink his course, no time to consider what the results might be. He felt Eristta’s full compliance. The elfin princess relaxed into his lead, allowing him to pull at her spirit, draw it into his own awareness. As she slipped into his consciousness, Red Claw was imbued with light, and power, and love. He waited for their energies to blend, and for the emotions to recede before searching for the memory.
Welcome to my world, Red Claw spoke in spirit.
Eristta shimmered silver, her violet eyes shining bright within her ethereal form. “It is a beautiful place,” she whispered in return. “As I knew it would be.”
“Join me, wastelakapi. See what I see. Feel what I feel.” With those final words and Eristta’s nod, Red Claw pulled her tight to his chest and they fell into the cylindrical void of his darkest thoughts and memories. Images careened past. Flashes of Earth. Of the death of his first wife, niyaha nunpi, Two Feathers. Of the massacre of his people by the wasichu. The death of his brother, Spotted Eagle, when they were both just boys.
Finally, they arrived at his first memories of Tir na n-Og. Of his wandering. Trying to make sense of the strange, new world he’d found himself in. It was the first time the bear spirit had physically emerged. It was what kept him alive for those long days and cold nights. Hunger—it ravaged him. Even as the bear, he was reluctant to hunt and kill creatures in a strange forest. He didn’t know what guardians lurked. Or who he had to appease before taking a life.
Further they traveled into his thoughts from the past. The memory lay buried deep—locked away but never forgotten. They approached. An emaciated Red Claw sat cross-legged on the cold forest floor, rocking, calling his ancestors to help him. To grant him a vision.
Holding tight to Eristta, they fell into the vision like a plummeting rock. “We are here,” Red Claw whispered grimly. He felt Eristta’s spirit bind tighter to his. Warming him. Sustaining him.
“I am here, shaman. I will bear it with you this time.” Her words were like a cooling balm, but even so, Red Claw knew all that was about to change.
The scene shaped itself like puzzle pieces being drawn into place. First the waterfall and secluded canyon. Red Claw felt Eristta’s gasp as she recognized the Pool of Shaping in the Spring Kingdome, one of four sacred pools that held supernatural power. This particular one had the power to shape destinies, to bind thought and emotion into tangible conceptions.
The water so clear, rippled with life, the sound and perfumes of new life filling the air. Then, breaking the glass surface, Eristta. Beautifully bare, she climbed free of the pool to stand beneath the waterfall.
As always, Red Claw’s attention was absorbed by her beauty, and even knowing what was coming, he was unable to tear his gaze away. As his vision-self stepped out from behind the falls and wrapped her in his embrace, Red Claw felt Eristta gasp and her spirit shudder.
They watched as the couple began their lovemaking, Eristta moaned in response. He felt her spirit-hands wrapped tight to him, desire wafting from her in waves. Red Claw wished he could share in it, but the time was nearing, and dread sat heavy within him.
Red Claw murmured, “It comes.”
Like always, the beast emerged, shattering the couple’s union. Eristta shrieked, her spirit form bucking against him in shock, then outrage and horror. She fought to turn away, to leave the vision, but Red Claw held tight. “Not yet, wastelakapi. Forgive me, but you must see.”
As the demon bear plunged his muzzle into Eristta’s chest, Red Claw was unable to contain her spirit any longer. Silver ignited his inner space like lightning, dissolving the image of the vision and sending them both plummeting back into their bodies beneath the evergreens.
Slamming into his body, Red Claw stood and reached for Eristta who had leapt to her feet, eyes wild. “Don’t!” Eristta held up a hand and sidled backward. His heart contracted, but he stayed still, breathing hard. He knew it would be like this. That she would feel the horror of what he had—would—do. That she would finally understand why he had denied himself her pleasure these many years.
Silence hung heavy in the small clearing. Even the greenies had fallen quiet. Only a soft breeze rustled the boughs above their heads. Red Claw waited, knowing that Eristta would speak when she was ready. After she had full absorbed the horror of what she had seen.
Her violet eyes lifted, and he met her gaze, prepared for—
“Damn you to Balor, Red Claw,
” his beloved growled, her eyes snapping with fury. She stepped forward, her body quaking. “You have denied us for over two hundred years because of that?”
Stunned, Red Claw could do nothing but gape.
Raising a slender hand, Eristta balled it into a fist, shaking it in front of his face. “Godsdamn, shaman. Have you no common sense?” Lowering her hands to her hips, she drew in a deep breath. “I’ll not deny it more than a dream and understand your horror of it coming to pass. I could even sense the possibilities, the power behind the vision, but ‘tis but a possible event. Not immutable. Not fated.”
Without warning, the elfin princess placed both hands on either side of his jaw and leaned in, her lips inches from his. “Red Claw, we make our own fate. You and I. Not the gods. Not the fates weaving their eternal tapestry.”
Red Claw stood frozen, not daring to shatter the current that pulsed between them. The possibility that she, his beloved could be right.
Her lips touched his, caressing the outside of his mouth with her sweet tongue. “For you to carry that vision all this time as truth, you have done us both a disservice.”
Pulling back, Red Claw stared at Eristta’s upturned face. His gaze traced the contours of her fine cheekbones, resting on the twining tattoos that framed the left side of her face and graceful neck. “Forgive me, wastelakapi,” he whispered, his thumb sliding along the line of her jaw to the gentle hollow at her breastbone. “But I could not reconcile doing anything that would ever cause you pain.”
Smiling through a fine sheen of tears, Eristta laid her hand onto his. “Do you think I have not suffered this time without your touch?” Breathing deep, she took his hand and placed it onto the swell of her breast. “Ease my pain, shaman. Now. Here. We will redesign our threads.”
He knew then, that the battle he had been waging against his desire was lost. Dangerous, perhaps, but he could fight it no longer. A rush of disappointment flooded him as the great bear’s emotions surfaced, but his guide receded quietly without urging. The decision made, Mato would not interfere or muddy his brother’s thoughts, actions or choices.
A shaft of clarity struck Red Claw’s heart as he looked down. Freedom. He was finally free to give in to his heart’s desire. “Eristta,” he growled, his body taut with need. “If we do this, there is no returning. We will have forged a new path that can be but traveled one way.”
Eristta paused, her expression clouded, but as her gaze cleared, she reached out and deftly released the ties of his loincloth, letting it fall to the ground. “Come, let us walk it.”
Chapter Seven
Eristta knew she would never be able to contain her excitement, her exhilaration. Moisture already coated the folds of her quim, and it would take only a touch of his tongue, or even his bold, worldly look to make her climax.
Taking his large hand, she led him out from under the boughs of the tree into a moolight-dappled clearing of soft summer grass. The heady perfume of lilacs and pine swirled around them on the breeze, and Eristta fixed Red Claw with a knowing look. “Stand tall, my terran warrior. Let me show you what you have denied yourself.”
With Red Claw standing proudly before her, his legs slightly apart, arms crossed over his massive chest, Eristta knelt on one knee, and for a moment, simply stared. “Goddess,” she whispered, licking her lips to wet them. So beautiful. So enormous, but not oversized, his cock stood away from his loins like a staff of finely polished oak. “How long I have dreamed of doing this,” Eristta said breathlessly before slipping her hand around the base of his cock and running it down the satiny length.
The shaman shuddered, and Eristta smiled. “He is mine already, see?” Looking up from under her lashes, Eristta flicked her tongue across the swollen head of his cock, tasting. His hips bucked, straining for her mouth.
Eristta wrapped him fully within her mouth, taking a moment to accommodate his girth. Only a moment. With her hands on either side of his hips, she worked her mouth up and down his length, her tongue swirling around his shaft as she did so. The muscles in his legs bulged, his groin contracting as she continued to give him pleasure. Eristta’s own desire burned, and taking one hand, she brought it to her slit and flicked her clit in rhythm.
“I cannot hold back, wastelakapi,” Red Claw bellowed, his hips thrusting forward to meet her eager mouth.
Do not, came Eristta’s mind-whisper. It is but one release of many.
Gripping his testes, Eristta took him deep, letting the muscles of her throat close around his shaft. With a purr of pleasure, Eristta plunged her finger inside her quim as Red Claw roared with his release. Swallowing, Eristta found her own climax, her quim contracting in waves.
Releasing his cock, Eristta stood and twirled, arms raised, letting the rest of the sensations ripple through her exhilarated body, spirit and mind. Red Claw caught her up in his arms, his patrician face flush with need. “Woman, do not think to escape your punishment.”
Her head spinning, Eristta laughed, gripping Red Claw’s arms where they held her around her hips. “Punishment? What do I need punishment for?”
Bringing his lips down onto her hers, Red Claw growled, “For not forcing sense into me sooner. A woman should know when a man’s head is too thick to make wise decisions.”
Snorting, Eristta opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his thick head, but her words were drowned by her own throaty moan as a warm hand cupped her quim.
“Let us call it even, then,” Red Claw whispered into her mouth as his tongue snaked in to gently taste and tease. “Our foolishness. Equally rendered.” He pulled back slightly, leaving Eristta panting, her eyes smoky with need. “But know, wastelakapi, my attentions are not for simple amusement, a distraction of wicked pleasure.”
A sense of déjà vu struck Eristta, as well as a thrill of unease. She knew what the shaman was alluding to. The terran warrior was not a man to give his affections lightly. Did she want more than his body? The idea had never occurred to her. Or perhaps it had, in secret moments. But it was not something she’d allowed herself to consider. It had always been his attention she craved, his passion.
Eristta closed her eyes, letting Red Claw’s image linger in her mind, seemingly burned into her soul. She leaned fully into the warrior’s arms and squirmed until their hips connected. The iron bulge of his cock pressed against her abdomen and sighed, and desire curled like a hungry serpent inside her. “There may well be danger in our union, Red Claw, but I think it comes not from the threat of a vision, but from our own stubbornness.”
It was as much as she could give him now. He kissed her forehead, acknowledging her uncertainty, without challenging it, and for that Eristta was grateful. The vision, as horrible as it was, did not worry her. She knew that this man, this self-composed powerful warrior would never let such a thing happen. And likewise, she would protect him with her dying breath, if need be.
Surprise over her last thought made Eristta catch at her bottom lip, but the moment was lost as Red Claw’s hand migrated between their bodies to cup her quim once more.
“I need to touch all of you, wastelakapi,” he murmured. He touched his lips to her neck and trailed kisses down to the crest of her shoulders. “Taste you. Feel your strength and softness.”
Pulling back, Red Claw lifted her in his powerful arms and seated her upon the grass where she waited and watched every movement he made. The flex of his biceps, the ripple of his chest muscles.
With sure hands, the shaman brushed her hair back from her face, his touch causing her to shiver with desire. He spoke low, magickal words, encapsulating them in a protective shield to dampen sound and to keep the strength of their desire from becoming a beacon.
“This moment is ours alone, Eristta.” His fingers moved from her hair, along her jawline, until he brushed her lips with his thumb. “None other shall share in it or intrude.”
Relaxing back on her elbows, Eristta sighed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, shaman.” She deliberately ran the tip
of her tongue along her upper lip as she gazed at the full length of his erect cock. “Now show me what I’ve been missing these long days and nights.”
His expression hardened with anticipation as he settled between her legs, hands braced on either side of her body. “First, I will sample you with my tongue, then my hands, and if you are deserving…” Red Claw reached down and drew a finger across the outside of her slit. “I will find your core and together we will be as one.”
The husky tenor of his words made the hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end, and his touch brought fresh juices to flowing through her quim. “I’ll show you deserving,” Eristta started as she made to sit up again, but his warm hand stopped her. Palm flat against her chest, he firmly pressed her down, his body looming over her as she lay flat on her back.
“Quiet, woman,” Red Claw growled. “For once you will do what you are told.”
Eristta raised her brows as a fiery thrill made her ache with longing all the way to her bones. “If you continue to tease me, shaman, I will be forced to use magick to bend you to my will.”
Red Claw flashed a wicked grin, and Eristta’s breath caught at the pure animalistic quality. It didn’t frighten her…far from it. She wanted all of him, mind, body, soul and bear.
Taking both of her hands, he placed them above her head and leaned in, his mouth coming to rest on the swirling symbols that graced the left side of her neck. “No magic, other than your alluring scent.” He drew in deeply, then with his tongue, traced the symbols down the length of her neck, across her chest, and on to the side of her breast and pausing so that his warm breath skimmed her nipple.
“Your skin, sweet princess, is sugar edged with spice,” he said softly before wrapping his mouth around the diamond-hard ruby tip. Eristta hissed with pleasure. She arched her back, pushing her areola further into the warm recesses of his mouth.
“Yes,” she sighed, letting the full, intoxicating sensation of his tongue wash through her. His strong hand kneaded the other breast and rolled the pebbled nipple until it stood up from her areola like a spike, pulsing rose-red, begging for his tongue.
Night Elves 2: Dangerous Obsession Page 6