by Candi Wall
Damon moved past the woman and Tinjtol to reach for Myla. She met him as he approached and let him pull her down into his arms. “We are safe because of you. Your refusal to let those men attack her is why we will leave with our lives.”
Myla turned out of his arms and walked over to the Hounta woman. “I owe you my life and the life of the man I—” Myla knew she didn’t understand. She also knew Damon did and broke off.
Had she almost said the man she loved? Did she love him? She pushed the thought aside. That wasn’t possible. Sex was one thing, but love? Shaking her head, she managed to get her thoughts back on track. “Damon, I would like to know her name.”
Damon translated the request. The woman held herself with the bearing of royalty. Her head high, shoulders straight. “Laylika.”
Myla’s throat constricted. “I am Myla.” This was truly happening. “Damon, please tell Laylika that her name is lovely, and she has my deepest gratitude.”
After he told her, Laylika smiled in return and touched the beads around Myla’s neck. She uttered a few words to Damon, and he nodded.
“She says the women have shown what peace can do between enemies and it is a peace she hopes will remain past this day. She also says you are welcome on Hounta land, and only need show the beads if you need her.”
“Laylika.” Myla’s voice was stronger now.
“Myla.”
Damon stood quiet and watched. When she turned to him, he brushed her hair back from her face. “You have brought a hope for peace where hatred has existed for hundreds of years. Hounta would not have let us live but for his daughter’s wishes. I am amazed by the gentleness of your spirit.”
He placed an arm around her waist, and she smiled up at him. “We did it together.”
Damon spoke to Hounta. After a moment of conversation, he smiled down at her again. “Hounta agrees with his daughter. We are safe—for now.”
The relief his statement brought changed to fear as Tinjtol approached. The gentle hand Laylika placed on his shoulder stopped him immediately. His eyes still held anger, though the emotion softened when he looked at the other woman.
Damon pulled Myla back and they walked from the Hounta camp without incident. She glanced back several times to be certain they weren’t followed. The moment they were far enough away, she yanked him close and buried her face in his chest.
“I was so scared.” She ran her hands over his back and shoulders, then reached up to touch his face and the smooth warmth of his lips. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“We still have far to go.” The way he held her belied the easy confidence in his words. With another quick hug, he took her hand and they hurried deeper into the jungle.
It was difficult, but Damon managed not to laugh. The way her bottom wiggled as she shimmied a bit higher made it nearly impossible. Actually, it made him want to groan. She hugged her arms around the tree and looked down, her eyes weary. “Like this?”
Damon nodded. Swallowing hard against the thickening in his throat, he forced himself to stop looking at her body. “Now grab the base of the frond. Slide your hand along the shaft until it is next to the tree and pull down hard.”
She reached out slowly to place her hand around the leaf’s sturdy stem. “You’ll catch me if I fall, right?”
“You will not fall. Trust yourself, Myla.”
The deep breath she took and the little nod of her head made him smile. His brave Myla. She pulled on the leaf, and the soft crack of the stem breaking loose echoed in the silence.
A moment later the green foliage drifted to the ground at his feet. He grabbed it before looking up to her beaming smile. “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. How many do we need?”
Thousands, if it kept her poised above him in such a manner. “Ten or so should do. The weather will stay calm for this night.”
He walked to the small structure of branches Myla had helped him construct and placed the frond over the roof before sitting on the ground to watch her. After a day of travel from the Hounta encampment, they had finally stopped for the evening.
Myla’s need to help build a shelter for the night amazed him. He knew she must be exhausted, and even after confessing her fear of heights, she still managed to climb the tree for the thickest fronds.
One after another the leaves dropped to the ground, but he followed the movements of her body instead. Her strong legs wrapped around the branches, bracing her against the thick tree trunk. The supple muscles of her back and stomach bunched and shifted with her efforts, and each time she reached up higher, her shirt drifted up enough to give him a teasing peek at the soft undercurve of her breast.
Small wisps of hair curled at her temple, damp with sweat from her exertions, and the rest tumbled down her back in a tangled mass. The last rays of sunlight cast crimson and gold highlights along the tendrils in a flaming curtain that tapered down her spine.
She bit her bottom lip in concentration, the tip of her tongue coming out to wet the tender skin. He groaned. Every movement, every breath she took was enticing. He needed her, wanted to lose himself in the euphoria only she could create when their bodies met.
Her eyes sparkled with happiness when she glanced his way. “Is that enough?”
“It will never be enough.” He pushed up from the ground and walked to the tree. Leaning against it, he stared up at her. “Come down.”
Her eyes held his as she moved slowly back down. “What’s wrong?”
“I need you.” He reached up to grab her ankle, letting his hand slide over her calf and thigh to curve along her bottom. Wrapping both hands around her waist, he hoisted her the rest of the way down, pressing her body back against his as he did so.
She leaned into his embrace, and he attacked the soft skin at the apex of her neck and shoulder. The smooth texture of her skin was warm, salty under his lips. Enough to make him close his eyes with pleasure.
He widened his hand across her belly, pinning her against him. Her head dropped back against his shoulder, and her soft sigh fueled the raging desire that coursed through him. She reached back to run her hand through his hair, urging him on, crushing what little restraint remained.
When she tried to turn in his arms, he held her still. The intense need raging through him would rule all reason if she touched him. But he wanted her kiss. Wanted to taste the sweet heat of her mouth.
As if she read his thoughts, she turned enough to find his lips. He slid a hand along her cheek, holding her open as he delved into her mouth, wringing a soft moan from her throat that shot through his body.
His mind fogged with her response, and he covered her breast, kneading the soft flesh through her shirt, but it wasn’t enough. The knotted shirt came loose beneath his fingers, and he dragged it away from her skin, exposing her lace-covered breasts to the night air. Her nipples puckered beneath the fabric, and the deep valley between her breasts begged for his touch.
She broke away from his kiss with a harsh breath, her body shivering against him. Exhilarated by the need he sensed building within her, he slid his fingers over the damp skin of her chest and lingered there before cupping her breast. He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and her hand came up to cover his.
“Please, Damon.”
He understood. There was nothing more he wanted than to remove her clothing and bury himself in her heat. But right now, he needed more. The intensity of the danger they had survived, the thought of losing her, had haunted his mind throughout the day. “I felt fear today unlike anything I have ever experienced.”
This time, when she tried to turn in his arms he let her. The light touch of her fingers brushed over his eyebrow and down to his chin. “I know. But we’re safe now.”
He tightened his grip, crushing her to his chest. “Not until we reach my land, and even then I fear I will never know the peace my ancestors once enjoyed.”
She pressed her cheek to his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Together w
e can try to repair the damage InterCorp has done.”
He hoped she was right. Rubbing his mouth across the top of her head, he took a deep breath. “I do not think that is possible. Even with protection, my people’s way of life will never be the same.”
Her body stiffened. “I know.” She looked up, her eyes filled with tears. Her hand pressed against his chest over his heart. “It might not be exactly the way you live now, but it will keep you and the rest of the tribe safe. We all must sacrifice.”
“You have good intentions. I pray what your people propose is acceptable to the elders.”
She stood up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. “It will be.”
He chuckled. “We will see. Tomorrow you will speak to the elders.”
“Tomorrow?” She glanced around at the jungle. “So this will be our last night—alone?”
The mischievous light in her eyes was impossible to overlook. “Yes. We will arrive by midday.”
Her fingers smoothed through his, intertwining them as she stepped back. “Then we must make the best of the time left to us.” She tugged him toward their half-finished shelter. “Don’t you agree?”
He scooped her into his arms, enjoying her squeal of laughter. The peace he found with her enveloped them. Their eyes met, and he carried her the remaining distance to the shelter. Pressing his lips to hers in a deep, demanding kiss, he let go of the day’s tension to revel in what they shared. He welcomed the desire that sparked between them. Barely suppressed need had built in him through the day, and he crushed her to the ground beneath him.
He leaned over her to run a hand through her hair and let out a heavy sigh. When her eyes met his, she tipped her head slightly. “Damon? What is it?”
He shook his head. “I fear more than danger, alogu. I fear losing you.”
Her hands came up to cup his face, a sad smile marring her features. “Don’t. Damon, each day is a gift. If we live it, enjoy every breath, face every good and bad in turn, then we can walk away knowing that we lived every moment to its fullest.” She leaned up to brush her lips over his. “And when we look back, I hope we will smile with the memory.”
Somehow, her being a memory did not help.
Determined to force the sad thoughts from his mind, he pressed her body close.
Chapter Thirteen
Myla’s heart ached at the slow, meticulous way Damon moved his lips across her body. He commanded her passion with such ease and promise she could barely stay still beneath the gentle onslaught. But she sensed what he wanted. A deeper connection, something to last when they parted.
She wanted that as well. Needed the memory, knowing without it, she would never have the strength to leave. As much as she hated the thought, there was nothing else she could do. His life and hers were too different. She could never learn to live the way he did, and he—
He was wild. Untamed. Free like the jungles of his home.
Her world would crush his spirit; bind him with rules and laws and prejudice. No, there was no future beyond the time they had left. She wanted to soak in the moments they shared and let them burn into her mind for the lonely nights that would follow.
He slid her shirt off her shoulders, and she sat up, pushing him back to his knees. Ignoring his confusion, she removed her shirt and reached around to unhook her bra. His eyes followed her every movement, sending sparks of heat in their wake.
“Lie back. Let me make love to you, my strong bajluk.”
He lay back obediently, his eyes dark, the taut lines of his face revealing his desire. She ran her hands up over his chest and the sharp intake of his breath made her smile. When she leaned close to kiss the span of his chest, her breasts brushed over his heated skin. The contact sent tingles of pleasure straight to her core.
Cool night air spread between them, the blanket of moss and foliage beneath their heated bodies scratched at her knees. Leaves rustled from the trees above, and the soft cries of night creatures sang a lilting melody into the dark. The warm scent of his skin filled her. Every sense came alive, in sync with the world that cocooned them in a beautiful dream.
She was lost.
Sliding lower, she dragged her teeth over the muscles of his belly and traced the lines down his perfect body. The hard length of his erection pressed between her breasts as she moved lower, rubbing along the smooth skin there. Bringing her arms in close, she trapped his heated flesh between her breasts and whispered against his skin, “Your body is magnificent.”
He moaned, and his hips jerked upward. “Myla.”
Her name on his lips, said with such fierce passion, set fire to the need already running rampant. She slid lower, needing to know him, his taste, his strength. Biting down on the tie to his cloth, she tugged it loose with her teeth and slid her hand up his thigh and hip to pull the garment aside.
Closing her hand around him, she locked her eyes with his and let her breath move over his swollen flesh before she took him into her mouth by slow degrees. His strangled, harsh groans spurred her on.
Never had she enjoyed pleasuring a man as much as she did in that moment. Every breath and sigh, each turn and jerk of his body made her want more. She moved over him, wringing his responses until his hand fisted in her hair and his deep growl echoed into the night.
He tasted salty, warm, and she couldn’t get enough. The gentle pressure of his hand increased until he shuddered beneath her. “Stop, Myla. No more, or you will end me.”
She followed the same path up his body again, pressing herself close until her lips moved over his. The taste of his body and lips mingling in a delicious blend and she sucked at his full lips. “Why did you stop me?”
He shifted his hips to align with hers and rocked in a sinful rhythm. “The pleasure you bring me is immeasurable. Both in this,” he waved down at their bodies, “and here.”
His finger brushed over her eye and forehead, and the urge to cry settled deep in her chest, restricting her breaths. “And here,” she added before he could speak again, pressing her hand to his heart.
He nodded. “Yes, Myla.” His hand covered hers. “My heart is yours.”
There was no room for talk then. She moved over him, letting him strip away her pants and underwear. His warm hands never stalled in their progress as they had before at the layers of clothing.
She smiled down at him as he pulled her up to straddle his trim hips, the pulsing center of his body settled against her slick folds. The heated contact made her cry out, and he shifted his hips, holding her tight against him until she couldn’t take any more.
Her need took over, and she slid down onto him, taking his body into hers with a soft, satisfied moan. Tears pooled in her eyes, and they slipped free. It was no use trying to hide them. They dripped from her cheek to land on his chest.
Damon pulled her down to his chest and tried to stop the devastating motion of her body. He could not bear her pain. Rolling her to her back, he held himself deep inside her and framed her face with his hands. “Do not cry, love.”
She smiled through the tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just—” her voice broke on a sob before she continued, “—making love to you is powerful. It moves me deeply.”
Confused, Damon stroked her hair. “And this is not a good thing?”
“I know our time together will end soon.”
“Yes.” His body refused to remain still, and he moved gently inside of her. She responded, arching into him even as her lips found his neck. “Did you not tell me to enjoy every moment?” He moved his hand lower to cup her breast and brought his lips down to the soft skin. Pulling her aroused nipple into his mouth, he sighed at the sweetness he found.
She shuddered under his caress, her body clenching around him as he continued to move within her. “Yes.” Her breathless affirmation jerked through him, and he pushed deeper, the need for more consuming him.
“This is the second time you have cried, Myla.” He stopped moving and waited. “I want your pleasure, not your tears.”
Reveling in her passion, he increased the pace of his thrusts. Their joining wrung cries from her that filtered through the blackened jungle and coursed through his body with such intensity, the pleasure rivaled the feeling of her body around him. “Never.”
Her hands moved over his back, urging him closer, deeper. The scent of their mingling bodies filled the small structure, and when her cries became desperate, uncontrolled, he tried to keep hold of his own desire.
It was no use. Her hands curved along his thighs and tugged at his hips, fueling the tightening inside his belly. “Myla, let go. Let me have all of you.”
Her body arched up from the ground, tightening around him in a sensual rhythm that matched his thrusts. A feral growl ripped from his throat, her moans and sighs of desire only adding to the difficulty he found in restraining his need.
Then her body stiffened, a beautiful cry of pleasure released from her moist lips as her release poured slick over his heated flesh. Finally, with her body draining his restraint, he let go, following her over the edge into furious pulses of gratification that stole his mind and racked his body.
He held her close, lost in the powerful connection they shared. How was he going to let her go? And if he managed that, how would he sleep at night without her soft body curled next to him and her fingers threaded in his hair?
“Wait. Just wait another moment. I don’t want this to end yet.” Myla watched him, the pleasure in his eyes so apparent she wanted to soak in the moment.
He pulled her close and brushed her lips again. The security she found in his arms astounded her, but it couldn’t temper the fear that suffused her when he spoke. “It is time to go.”
“I know.” She glanced over his shoulder at the encampment below. They’d traveled the entire morning and his excitement had increased the closer they’d come to his home. As much as she wanted to see him happy, she couldn’t completely squash the feeling that everything would change between them the moment they set foot in the camp.