But of course, that was exactly what he had done.
Her ardor completely chilled, she sat up and wrapped her hair around herself again. She would not think about Danilo. She got up and walked back to her den.
The elaborate structure Sabrina called home was dug into a dune about five hundred yards from the shore, well protected from the ever-rising tides. It was cooled by the ocean breeze through its carved door, and it was warmed by the sun penetrating through the sand and sea-grass above it.
Sabrina passed through the door, leaving it open to the air. She lived here alone now that her three sisters had chosen mates and had gone to their own homes. As the tradition held, the family den was hers and she had to keep it, as the oldest child.
She had been sure that she and Danilo would be setting up as a mated pair and she had arranged the den so her sisters could stay if they wished, with or without mates. The youngest girl had chosen to make her own den. The two middle girls had chosen eldest sons and had to move into their mates’ family dens. Sabrina, of course, would not leave and Danilo had not wanted to stay.
Sabrina busied herself with tidying up, and made herself a snack, but there was little to do in the home with just her, and she was bored. She had to stop thinking of Danilo. It only made her blue. She picked up her rod and reel and returned to the shore. She might as well catch her dinner now, and maybe harvest a few vegetables for a nice supper. She was known in her village as a good cook and perhaps there would be visitors.
The breeze was stronger now, and her hair, so long it brushed the sand, would not stay wrapped, exposing her naked body to the ocean. She looked around. Men usually did not come down to the beach on this side of the village except at dawn when the fishing boats went out and they caught the tide wherever it was best. This late in the afternoon she would be unseen by them. She had no need to drape herself in the woven shawl that she and most women wore in mixed company. Like the others, when she was not with men, she only wore her hair wrapped around herself. There was no need for excessive clothing in this temperate climate.
Sabrina’s catch was lucky and she soon had enough for herself and anyone who came by. She brought in her fish and picked some tomatoes on the way inside. It would be a succulent stew. She tossed some dry grass on the fire pit for kindling, and added a few sticks. She would not need much of a fire as the fish cooked quickly. Then she wrapped the long shawl around her breasts and hips, took her taper and walked to the village for a light.
As she approached the communal fire, the women standing around it, lighting their tapers and gossiping, stopped talking. Sabrina, who was well liked, was surprised. “I must be your topic for you to clam up when I get here!” She was nothing if not direct, and that broke any brewing tension.
“You are, Sabrina,” said Maki, smiling. Maki was older than Sabrina and had mated with a handsome and powerful man from a village across the island. But the little fissures in the social order had made themselves felt in that mating. Her chosen mate was an eldest child, and Maki had no siblings at all so she was obligated to stay with her den, as was he.
In the days of their parents and grandparents for generations, that mating would have never been consummated. Two eldest, or an eldest and an only, could never be betrothed. But Maki and Johan had insisted. They lived apart, waiting for the day when Johan’s brother mated. Johan had resolved to give his brother the den. For now, they had worn a deep path across the island. Maki’s swelling belly was a tribute to these visits.
“Good gossip or bad?” Sabrina asked.
Maki smiled again, but softer this time. “I don’t know. But I must tell you what I was telling the others. I heard, when I was with Johan, that Danilo is back.”
Sabrina felt her heart thud, but whether with excitement or dread she didn’t know. “Is he in Johan’s village?”
Maki nodded. “He came in with a boat at midday. He said he was tired, he had need for rest before he could talk about his trip and went straight to his den. I haven’t seen him. I just heard this from Johan, but surely he will come to see you when he’s rested.”
“There was a time when he would have come to see me instead of resting,” Sabrina said.
Maki nodded. “But that was before.”
“Yes,” Sabrina said softly, “that was before.” They didn’t need to elaborate. They both knew, the whole village knew, that before Danilo had left, Sabrina had asked him to be her mate. He had accepted. And then, before the betrothal week was up, he had left. His only reason was one she had to believe—there was another land, far from here, and he had to find it. It had been a year and no one had heard from him or the other men who had left with him since then.
And now, he was back.
“The entire island wants to know what he found,” Maki said. “But he insisted on resting first. His companions from the other islands went to their homes and he was the last, bringing in the ship, so there is no one to ask.”
Sabrina was silent. Like the others, she was dying to know if there were other lands beyond their islands. She knew of the vast mainland of Atlantis, for she could see it from the leeward side of the island, and she knew there were other islands like hers, an archipelago of small outcroppings that acted as barrier islands for the mainland. But they had sailed east, away from Atlantis.
Sabrina did want to know. Truly she did, for she could read the stars as well or better than most sailors, and in fact it was her job, in the village, to teach the children to read the stars, the wind, the sun, at the village school. But she wanted, more than anything, to know if Danilo was coming back to her. Sabrina took her light and said goodbye to Maki. The other women respectfully let her go without chat.
Maki took her arm as she walked away. “Don’t be too proud. He will come to you. I’m sure. When he does, if he wants to try a new betrothal, think hard before you say yes or no.”
Sabrina nodded. Maki was good, and wise. But the pain of the broken betrothal, the year of loneliness, rejecting all suitors, taking no lover, and longing for Danilo, had hardened her heart. And worst of all was the memory of their last night together when he had caressed her, soft, hard, with his hands and mouth, then stopped. He was not going to be her mate at the end of the week and he didn’t want to take what wasn’t his. And she had nodded, smiled and bitten her lip in anger and frustration and agreed that if he couldn’t make good on his promise it was best to part.
Sabrina got back to her den and pulled off her shawl. She lit the fire with her taper, and covered it with wet grass to make a slow burn, then walked down to the sea. The wind blew her hair every which way, but she didn’t care. Danilo was back, he had gone to rest without seeing her, he had been gone a year, he had broken their betrothal. The thoughts swirled around her like her hair, wild and uncontrolled, and she shouted into the wind. “Danilo!”
“I am here.”
She whirled around, naked and wind-whipped, to face the voice behind her. And he was.
Sabrina stared at the man who stood before her. He seemed taller, older, larger, and yet thinner. He wore his bright red sarong low on slim hips, and a thick trail of black hair led upwards to his broadened shoulders, muscular and sun-darkened. His neck was corded with sinew, his jaw strong. A new scar arced across his left brow, over his black eyebrows shielding blue eyes narrowed by a year at sea. Danilo had been a strapping youth when he left, but he had returned a man.
Danilo looked into Sabrina’s eyes. His regard did not waver, never even glancing at her nude body, or at the long dark hair that swirled out into the wind. His hands stayed at his sides.
Sabrina looked back at him, but her eyes traveled all over, not willing to hold his stare. She first felt no modesty for her exposure, for he seemed not to notice it.
“Look at me,” he said, instead, and she did. “I am back,” he said, for she still had not spoken. “I am back for you.”
Then, his eyes left hers and she felt the slow caress of his glance, over her full breasts, her waist, her sex and
back up. Sabrina reached for her hair, struggling against the on-shore wind, and gathered it into a wrap around her body.
Danilo licked his lips. “I haven’t seen a naked woman in a year,” he said hoarsely, then smiled a bit with the corner of his mouth. He stepped forward. “And I have come to claim my mate.”
“No!” Sabrina finally cried. “No!” and she turned and ran. Danilo stood between her and her hut, with the sea behind her, so she ran along the shore, away toward the deserted end of the island. Anywhere, she ran. But when she slowed, she heard the slap sound of feet against the wet sand and she knew he was close behind.
She ran until she was out of breath. Her hair had unwound again, but she didn’t care. Finally, panting, she stopped and turned. He was there still, staying ten or so paces behind, not catching her, though he easily could have. He had let her run. And now she could run no more. “Why?” she asked between breaths. “Why did you leave?”
“You know why, Sabrina. I had to see the lands. And I found them.”
Sabrina knew that. It wasn’t what she meant. What she wanted to say was, why did you leave me? Why did you come back to me? But the answers were as meaningless as the questions. Finally, she asked, “Did you think I would wait for you?”
Danilo’s black eyebrows shot up. “I did. Didn’t you?” He looked astonished.
Sabrina relished it bitterly. “Did you think no other man would want me? Either as a mate or as a lover? You didn’t ask me to wait, did you? You broke our betrothal! Remember?” Her words swelled as a year of anger, hurt and frustration broke free. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she had taken no lover, no mate, but had yearned for him through her pain for a year. Let him suffer doubt.
“I asked in the village,” he said softly. “I was told you still had no mate.”
“No mate, perhaps, but did you ask about lovers?”
“You were free to have any lovers you wished, and to mate as well,” he conceded, looking back out to sea. “But I was not told of any.”
“Lovers aren’t always common knowledge,” Sabrina answered. He had said, hadn’t he, that he had not seen a woman in a year. She grasped at her false advantage and played it. “Perhaps I did not wish to wait for you.”
“A woman may have as many lovers as she wishes,” he admitted, “and I would not begrudge you any. You are beautiful and many could not resist you. But I had hoped…” He trailed off.
“Well, you could hope all you wanted. You left and you left me. Maybe you would never return. Maybe you are only here for a night, a month, who knows. There are many girls in your village who would be happy to take the edge off your yearning. A year without a woman is a long time for a man.” She turned away. Why didn’t she simply welcome him back into her arms? What perverse need did she have to punish him, and herself along with him? And yet she would not give in to that desire, let him have her so easily after his desertion.
She took a few steps away from him, walking further down the beach. No one ever came this far down. The shore was smooth with few rocks for fish to lurk in, making it a poor fishing spot, and the high dunes made it unsuitable for den building. They were completely alone. The sun’s last rays peeked over the trees inland, turning the sky orange and the water a golden russet. A few more steps and she turned back to him.
He had not followed. He stood there, looking out at the water as he had on their last night together when he had stopped after heating her breasts to an ardor that had sent trails of shock and desire below. After he had stopped and told her he was leaving.
She shook her head to clear it of the past. Her long hair brushed the sand at her feet. The wind had died for the moment and she looked at him glowing in the sunset, willing him to turn to him.
It was as though he heard. She stood motionless. He had to come to her. She would not go to him. He took a step forward, tentative. Then another, three long strides and he was upon her. His hand came around her neck under her hair and she felt its warmth and strength. He pulled her to him and his lips came down to hers. And stopped.
Sabrina put her tongue lightly to his lips. He tasted of the sea. She waited. His other hand came around, across her shoulders, down to the small of her back. Still his lips hovered and she would not move to engage them. The moment lingered. She kept her hands at her sides, not moving, not breathing. Then his mouth crushed hers, burning full lips on her waiting mouth and she was tasting the salt. Her lips parted to welcome him home.
He pulled her head back with her hair and still his mouth was on hers. His tongue and hers met, tangled and fought. She put her hands to his chest, pushed lightly, trying to create some distance, get some air, but he moved closer, relentless. Her mouth yielded to his, her arms bent, abandoning the idea of distance. Her hands slipped around his broad back, caressed the strong muscles under the warm, smooth skin. And she remembered that she was naked.
Danilo’s hands had clearly not forgotten. The hand on her lower back dipped to the curve of her buttocks and she felt the strength of his grip as he cupped her. His upper hand released her hair, then was on her soft breast. He stroked the tender orb and lightly brushed her nipple. It responded immediately, hardened under his fingertips. But the memory of his last foray, his teasing caresses so abruptly ended, made her tighten in rebellion. He took his hand away.
No, she thought. This time, please don’t stop. But she could not say the words. Pride would not let her ask with her body, and his mouth, still on hers, would not let her speak. He pulled away, releasing her lips. “No,” she started. He let her go and turned away. Reach for him, she commanded herself. Speak to him. But she could not.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not looking at her. “You’re right. I can’t come back to you.”
The breeze felt cold even with the warmth of the evening. Her body cried out for him, her heart yearned for him, but her head was hard. “You’re a coward!” she spat.
“A coward? A coward? I’m many things, Sabrina, but that’s one thing I’m not.” Now his voice was hard, angry.
“You are. You run away. Do I scare you? Am I too much for you?”
“You scare me, but not the way you think.”
“You leave. You hide. You start and you stop. Aren’t you a man?” Sabrina longed to shut herself up, but the words poured from a wound unhealed.
“I’m a man, all right,” he answered. “But I’m not a brute.”
“No. That’s certain. You’re a careful, worried little sailor. Can you love a real woman? A woman so filled with passion your careful little world will fall apart with her touch? Can you?” Angry tears formed in her eyes, tears she had not cried in the year he had been gone. She turned her head away so he would not see.
“Are you that passionate woman? Are you saying you want me?” She didn’t answer. “Say it, Sabrina. Say the words, and you will have me.”
“No. No and no. You say the words. Tell me that you want me, show me, then we’ll see if I want you. You fled, I didn’t. You say it.”
“Gladly,” he shouted. “I want you, Sabrina, and I’m going to have you. Right here, right now, on the beach.” He grabbed her long hair and pulled her into his chest. He pulled her head back again, and again kissed her hard and long. His tongue thrust into her mouth and once more he cupped her ass, but this time his fingers grasped her tightly, kneading her soft flesh.
Then his other hand went to her breast, all as before, but there was no gentle caress. He pulled the tender flesh to himself, and releasing her mouth from his, dropped to her nipple. He sucked on it until it was fully hard, then nipped with his teeth. Sabrina shuddered again, but this time with desire, as the jagged current of heat ran from nipple deep into her core.
Danilo’s fingers on her ass pulled the cheeks apart and felt for her sweet female opening. Sabrina felt those fingers enter her and her juices ran. Her legs parted of their own volition as he drove one, then two fingers into her. His mouth and other hand attended her breasts, and with each touch to her nippl
es, her slit moistened with need.
He pulled his fingers, his mouth, away from her and stood.
Sabrina tensed, anger on the edge of her brain, waiting for him to stop once more. But instead, he lifted her off her feet and laid her on the beach. The sand and small shells scratched lightly at her, but she had no time to think of that as Danilo pulled her legs apart and knelt between them. With his knees, he pushed her wider.
Sabrina looked up at him, seeing him as he was now. His black hair rustled in the wind. His tanned, muscular shoulders flexed as he looked down at her on her back before him. The dark hair across his chest feathered down to curls below his waist. She could see the bulge beneath his sarong. She felt his hard thighs pressing against her softer ones. And his big, powerful hands waited for her. She watched him, and she watched him watch her.
He was still, looking at her breasts, her waist. Then he lifted her legs to his shoulders, and to her shock, he looked at her wet, warm sex. “Oh, yes, I want you, Sabrina,” he whispered.
His fingers parted her labia. She squirmed at the intimate touch, so open to his hands and eyes, but he continued. He opened the lips wider, stretching them, and, then gently touched the pleasure button above them. Sabrina moaned. He flicked it she flinched. Again, he flicked it more lightly, and her body fought between flinching and opening for more. And even more lightly, he stroked the sensitive nub, wetting his thumb with her own slick juice and rubbing on the perfect spot.
Sabrina could not help her reaction as her legs opened and she arched towards his touch. But he pulled her legs in and put them back on the sand. He leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. Then his mouth traveled down to her breasts, where one hand teased and pinched the nipple of one breast, while his mouth attended the other.
The sensation, now that her clit was aroused, was intense. With every lick, pinch and nibble, she squirmed, unable to control her reaction as her pussy heated with desire. She put her arms around Danilo, pulling him down to her, trying desperately to bring his strong body onto hers. But he was strong, stronger for his year at sea, and he resisted. Again, he pulled back, up on his knees. Sabrina reached for his sarong, ready to bare his cock, ready to see, finally, the source of the bulge beneath the cloth.
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