Wasteland: The Wanderer

by Crystal Jordan

  “We both know that’s not true.” This time he bit her neck, hard enough to make her squirm. He groaned when her movements rubbed her against his cock. “We both have our ways of proving ourselves useful because we are different. I, with my inventing of profitable things, and you, with your enjoyment of being active.” He licked the spot he’d bitten, the sweetness of her skin bursting over his tongue. “We are so alike, you and I.”

  Her head fell against his shoulder, and her heavy-lidded dark eyes met his. She reached up and traced the kabu on his face. “You’re a genius and the chieftain of a wealthy clan, and only growing wealthier with every invention. I’m a stray they picked up along the way.”

  “You are unique.” He brushed his lips over hers, and the clamor of drums and laughter and dancing and fucking all faded as his senses centered on the woman in his arms. One side of the blanket fell open as he released it to fondle her breast. She arched into the touch, her body bowing in a tight line. He lifted his mouth to look into her eyes while he teased her nipple. “Are you wet for me, Kadira?”

  “Yes.” But she went rigid as an older man reached out to slide his hand down her arm. She caught his wrist in a tight grip, her nails digging into the tendons until his hand spasmed. The hot passion had fled her face, leaving only cold fury. “No one touches me without asking first.”

  She tossed the man’s hand aside. Masud Tayi, advisor to the Tayi chieftain. Ezra fought the urge to set Kadira aside and break the man’s nose. Only the fact that Rite was a ceremony of concordance kept him in his seat. He would never do anything to disgrace his clan. He had spent too many years trying to erase his parents’ disgrace to bring more on his people, but possessiveness ripped through him and he resituated the blanket to cover Kadira from the man’s lustful eyes.

  Masud grinned slyly and wavered on his feet a bit, his mug of bla grog sloshing over the rim. “Careful, Haroun. I saw that look on your father’s face once.”

  Ezra went as stiff as Kadira, and she shifted as if to rise, or to ready herself to spring free of combatants. He locked his fingers around her waist to hold her in place, knowing his grip would be painful, but also knowing she might be the only thing holding him back from the kind of youthful rage that used to flash out when such cutting comments had had him reaching for his blade. “I am not my father.”

  “Chieftain Haroun. Like your father before you.” The older man gave an unsteady salute, all the more disrespectful for its drunken delivery. “He looked at your mother the way you look at her. Would a shaman have you for anything other than fucking after what he did? Ah, yes. You had to pay her even to do that, and she hides in your tent to do it with you.”

  Her fingers folded over his, tugging until she could lean back against him and pull his arms around her in an embrace. “I suggest you walk away now before he accidentally kills you on the practice field since the Rites is a time of peace. You are disturbing ours.”

  “My apologies.” Masud nodded, his eyes suddenly clearer, and tinged with fear as he took in the icy anger emanating from the people before him. “Shaman. Chieftain. Enjoy your Rites.”

  Ezra managed to unlock his jaw long enough to grit out, “You do the same. Somewhere else.”

  “The edge of your sword—and hers—can’t cut through the truth, Haroun.” Masud’s narrowed eyes reflected fury along with his apprehension.

  Arching a brow, Ezra stared the older man down. “You forget, I never intend to walk down the same path as my father did with my mother. If you don’t let yourself be marked, you can never wear the scars. Can you?”

  “Never is a very long time, Chieftain. But tonight is short, so I’ll take myself off to warmer company by the fire.” Offering a final toast with his mug of bla grog, Masud made his way toward the bonfire, forced to step over the men fucking in front of them.

  Kadira stirred in Ezra’s lap, turning her head to look at him. She’d watched the exchange with interest, but didn’t speak until their visitor had moved out of earshot. “You said you would never bond, but you never said why.”

  “My parents, of course.” He snorted, and she twisted at the waist to face him, but it was he who stiffened while she leaned deeper into him. “You must have heard the story. Every Wanderer has heard of my father’s shame.”

  “I was not born a Wanderer.” Her arms went around him, her hands on his bare back under the blanket. Her gaze searched his face, which he wiped clear of expression. “All I have ever heard of Ezra Haroun was of his mind and his inventions and the ferocity of his fury when it is invoked. They speak of you with the same fear the cities use for the angry Sun god they wish to soothe.”

  “And you want to soothe me?”

  “No,” she said softly. “I want to know you. Tell me what happened.”

  He closed his eyes to keep from drowning in the dark pools of hers. He’d never seen the female warrior so sympathetic. He liked that she offered it to him, and hated that it had anything to do with something he’d fight his whole life and never be able to overcome. “My parents were bonded, a permanent bond, the kabu marks carved into their wrists.” He swallowed, his voice harsh. “When I was twelve summers old, my mother decided to take another lover. She wanted to…experiment…as she had in her youth. My father agreed, at first, but soon it became more than experimenting. She grew weary of my father’s possession and wanted out of their bond.”

  “That can’t be done, not with a permanent bond.”

  He choked on a bitter laugh. “Yes, but that didn’t stop her and her lover from deserting their clans and running away together.”

  “El and Ela…” A shudder went through her—through him—and she held him tighter. He could feel her shock. The permanent bond was a sacred oath, inscribed in blood and flesh, consecrated by the god and goddess. To break it was to incur their wrath, to bring a curse down on a clan.

  Wishing that were the worst of it, he swallowed the acrid anger that burned up from his belly. For so many years, they’d thought he was the curse upon his clan. He, with his freakish mind and freakish thoughts he couldn’t explain to anyone. His freakish gadgets that did freakish things no one had ever seen before, but had heard about in ancient legend. Ezra, chieftain’s child and Haroun clan curse, a punishment sent down to repay the shameful debt of his parents’ perfidy. So many battles he’d had to fight, just to prove he had the right to live. He sucked in a deep breath. “That’s not all.”

  “Tell me.” She stroked her palms up and down his back.

  He buried his hand in her hair, resting his forehead against hers, and shut his eyes so he couldn’t see her reaction to the final, ugly revelation. “My father…my father peeled the skin from his wrist rather than wear the bond mark after she left him.”

  “Blasphemy,” she breathed in horror, and it felt like ice ran down his spine. He’d thought she’d heard the tale before, that everyone had heard the tale before. Now he realized that Masud could be right. If she had heard, the shaman might never have lain with him.

  “Yes.” He wanted to beat himself into oblivion for voicing the question, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had to ask. “If you had known, would you still have agreed to my arrangement, kabu shaman?”

  She leaned back and stared up at him. A chortle sputtered out of her, and she repeated his own words to him, a habit he had a feeling he was going to regret laughing about. “Do you really think your parents have anything to do with why I want you? You are not to blame for what they did. It is the one thing I have never understood about the Wanderer ways. No person should be held responsible for another’s actions. A whole clan should not suffer for one member’s crimes.”

  Relief so great it would have driven him to his knees if he’d not been seated washed over him like an ocean wave. The power of the emotion jolted him, and he shoved it away, refusing to acknowledge what it might mean. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For your absolution, shaman.”

  “You’ve spent too much time in
the cities, with their wrathful, greedy deities. I cannot grant absolution to anyone. Such is not part of the Wanderer religion.” She sat in silence for a long moment, and he wasn’t certain he wanted to know what occupied her thoughts. “You said they thought you were a curse as a child, before your genius proved useful. They thought you were the punishment for your parents’ sacrilege, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “I had to survive many unfortunate accidents after they sinned against El and Ela. Before then, I had just been an oddity, but…my freakish nature took on a darker meaning for everyone.”

  “People fear what they do not understand, Ezra. That is not your fault.” She rested her cheek against his chest, and the feel of her, soft and pliant against him, was sweet enough to stop his heart. “I’m glad you fought well and survived to be who you are now. I’m sorry for what your parents and clan did to harm you. Even if they are not.”

  Something deep inside him cracked and crumbled. A weight he’d born so long he’d forgotten how heavy it rested on his shoulders. Perhaps the wounds would never truly heal, but some of the childhood rage he’d locked away dissipated at her words. Someone looked beyond his genius and soothed the helpless boy he had been. Someone tried to understand. Kadira—a woman who was half-outside and half-in, just as he was. He swallowed and pulled a breath deep into his lungs, cupping the back of her head and stroking her silken hair. “You are a remarkable woman, Kadira.”

  “People are watching us.” She shifted on his lap, and he became aware of just how much interest they were garnering from a crowd that should be immersed in carnal delights. “Is it because of what Masud said? That I’m a shaman, so I’ll hide that I’m willing to fuck you because of your parents’ shame?”

  “More than likely, yes. Though Masud is still a horse’s ass.”

  “Horses are rare and sacred animals.” She sniffed. “They do not deserve such an insulting comparison.”

  He chuckled, then groaned when she tugged the blanket away from him and tossed it to the ground. She busied her hands unlacing his breeches. “Should I ask what you are doing?”

  “If people intend on watching us, then we should give them something entertaining to look at.” Her eyes flashed defiance, and she slipped his cock free of his pants. She pumped him between her fingers until he was harder than sun-glass. “And I wish to make it clear that I am not ashamed to sleep with you.”

  “Kadira…” He didn’t bother finishing the thought. Voicing a halfhearted protest wasn’t worth the effort it would take to form the words, and his wits seemed to have gone begging. Her thumb rolled over the head of his cock, smearing the moisture that seeped from the tip.

  She let his shaft go long enough to tug her thin garment over her head and drop it on top of his discarded blanket. Having her slim body bared for him made him shudder. He arched her back over his arm and sucked her nipples into his mouth one at a time. Grabbing his free hand, she shoved it between her legs. “I want you, Ezra. Inside me. Now.”

  He worked his fingers deep within her, until she writhed on his lap. Slipping his soaking fingers out of her hot pussy, he moved them to slide into her backside, stretching the tight ring of her anus. They both groaned, but she spread her legs for him. He pierced her with two and then three fingers, twisting them inside her until she was wide enough to take his cock.

  Snapping her fingers around his wrist, she shoved his hand away. Her breasts heaved with each breath, her nipples tight points still damp from his mouth. She shifted around on his lap until she faced away from him, and then straddled his thighs. “I can’t wait.”

  “Neither can I.” He held her so she wouldn’t fall off the rock they shared, guiding her backward until he could work his cock into her ass. She made a harsh noise that was almost drowned out by the cacophony of Rite, but he heard it and paused, waiting for her muscles to relax around his shaft so he could push his way deep inside her. She was so tight, it was almost painful, but it also made his blood roar in his veins.

  A whimper broke from her. “They’re still watching.”

  He glanced around, saw how many people stared as he penetrated Kadira’s anus. Their eyes were envious, burning with lust as she began to move on him. She shimmied upward, then eased back down, letting her weight sink her onto his cock. He slid his hands up to palm her breasts, tweaking the hard little nipples. More than one warrior twitched in their direction, a few men and women beginning to move in time with them as they fucked. It was arousing, but not nearly as much as having Kadira watch him had been.

  Now he had her in his arms—just where he wanted her.

  Sucking her earlobe between his teeth, he bit down on the soft flesh. She choked, but didn’t cry out for him. He breathed into her ear. “Do you enjoy having their eyes on you?”

  “I would rather have a few of them join us.”

  Jealousy sank sharp claws into his belly, and he froze, his arms locking her in place so she couldn’t move. She twisted in his embrace, sank her nails into his arm, and moaned an objection. “You would prefer their touch upon you?”

  In that moment, he had a deeper sympathy for his father than he ever had before. To have a woman you craved more than your next breath want someone else instead could bring any man to his knees. Agony gutted him, and a hoarse sound ripped from his innards.

  “It’s not about preferring them,” she gasped. “I want you, but I so enjoyed seeing you fuck Bachir’s ass the way you’re fucking mine now. It made me hot and wet for you. I almost came just from watching.” Her words made his cock flex inside her, and he almost came just from listening to her speak of it. God and goddess, the things she did to him. She jerked against his hold on her. “Move, Ezra. I’m dying, burning up. Move, move, move.”

  Relaxing his grip, he let her ride his cock. He bracketed her hips with his hands, pulling her tight to the root of his shaft. She lifted and lowered herself, rocking faster and faster. Her ass closed around his cock, and the sensation was beyond amazing. The skin of her soft back rubbed along his chest. Her sweet scent filled his lungs, her long hair tickled his flesh as the wind made the strands flutter around them. And ever he was aware of the heated gazes that watched them, wanted them. It was erotic, and experiencing it with Kadira made it more so. He’d never been this conscious of how open the orgies of Rites were. Usually he was focused on his lovers alone, but now he absorbed all of it, every detail soaking in.

  Her knees tightened on the sides of his legs, which dug the invention in his pocket into his flank. He grinned and wrapped his arm around her waist while he fished out the gadget with his other hand. Not only would he have her unashamed tonight, he’d have her unrestrained. He’d make her scream for him. “Well, I wouldn’t want to bore you with my touch alone, my warrior shaman. Let me see what I can do to make this more interesting.”

  He held the cylindrical metal tube in front of her so she could get a good look at it. She ground her ass against him, and they both gave a low cry. She panted, reaching over her shoulder to grab a handful of his hair. “More interesting?”

  “Yes. It’s a gift. For your pleasure.”

  She chuckled. “I know what it’s for. My father used to trade such items. Some were made out of metal, like that one, others were carved of stone or wood or sun-glass.”

  Rubbing it against her clit, he enjoyed her soft moans as he pressed the phallus into her pussy. She shuddered against him, her hand fisting in his hair as he stretched both her channels. Her muscles pulsed around his cock, and her moisture coated his hand as she gushed.

  “Tell me, Kadira, did those pieces you traded do this?” He flicked his nail over a small knob near the base and the phallus began to quake within her, vibrating down the length of his cock as the movement pierced the thin wall that separated the two.

  She threw her head back against his shoulder and screamed as she came. “Ezra! Ezra!”

  The sound of his name on her lips was enough to shove him over the edge, and he released deep into her ass, his
control shattering. He pumped his cock and the phallus into her until her muscles locked around him again, and orgasm shook her once more. Come spurted from him to fill her, his body jerking with each wave of ecstasy. Their shouts mingled with those of others celebrating the Rite, and for once both of them were a part of the Wanderers. No different than any other, integrated in a ritual that commemorated the purest aspects of their religion. Fertility, renewal, a strengthening of old bonds and forging of new ones. Peace, the meaning of El and Ela’s Rites, flowed over Ezra as his heart rate settled and he held his woman in his arms.

  Nothing had ever felt so good or so right.

  Chapter Four

  The clash of blades meeting rang clearly over the practice field. Akilah and Kadira circled each other, looking for openings in the other’s defenses. They’d trained together so often, they knew every strength and weakness of their opponent, but that knowledge also made them evenly matched. Akilah’s lower lip was split, and Kadira’s left hand bore a weeping cut. They both sported an assortment of bruises. Akilah swung her curved scimitar, and Kadira met it with her broadsword, the long blades sparking as they connected. The hit vibrated up Kadira’s arms, and she recoiled smoothly to absorb the impact. Sweat slid down her face to sting her eyes, but she didn’t bother to try to wipe it away. It was all familiar. Thrust, parry, step. A deadly dance she knew every move to.

  A feral smile curled Akilah’s lips, and she taunted softly, “I hear the Haroun chieftain is doing excellent business on that little toy he used on you.”

  “You just wish he’d used it on you.” Kadira blocked a swing and dropped to sweep Akilah’s legs out from under her. The other woman went down in the sand, but arched and leaped to her feet, already slashing through the air to meet Kadira’s next blow. “Two weeks, and he tells me the demands keep coming in for more. He’s going to have to bring an auto full of them to the Rites of Fall.” She sucked in a breath, and noticed Akilah was beginning to grow winded as well. They’d been practicing for several hours, and the sun was near to setting. Kadira usually trained in the mornings, but Ezra had pulled her under him at dawn and hadn’t let her up until midday. Not that she’d tried to escape—no sane woman would. A fortnight in his bed and every time just got better as they learned what drove the other mad with lust. “I told him to take some with him the next time he goes to the city. Men and women can use them on themselves or a lover, and Whores would probably be wild for them. Might give them a chance to come.”