by Vonna Harper
“What did I say?”
“Not much that made sense,” she assured him. “You muttered a lot, and from the way you moved, it was as if you were trying to get away from something. Do you remember? Maybe you were running from an enemy.”
“Enemy?”
Even before she’d mentioned running as a possibility, she knew that wasn’t right because she’d concluded that he’d been carrying on a conversation with one or more people while staring at something that horrified him.
“Someone was screaming.” Although she lifted her head so she could make out his expression, she was content to remain against him. Keeping her pelvis still wasn’t easy. “I don’t think it was you because the voice you used wasn’t familiar. And you said something about burning.”
With a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, he sat up, pushing her off him as he did. She didn’t try to scoot away but remained close so his heat continued to reach her.
“Is that what I said?”
About to tell him no, she nodded.
The fire had again turned to little more than coals, but now the moon was up. Between it and the stars, she noted how intently he was watching her. Men, even Falcons, were private creatures when it came to their emotions. They were loathe to reveal any more of what they were thinking or feeling than they absolutely had to, but maybe if she waited him out, she’d find a way to break past his defenses.
“I seldom remember my dreams,” she said, hoping the admission would get him started. “And what I do makes little sense. Fortunately, I hardly ever have a nightmare.”
“It wasn’t—”
“Yes, it was!” she snapped, then looked around to make sure his companions were still asleep. “Don’t lie to me, or yourself.”
Instead of replying, he picked up the rope that held them together and stroked it. Watching his hands at work calmed her. Just the same, she couldn’t distance herself from memories of when he’d touched her and how she’d responded. They’d been physically close most of the time they’d been together, and yet the connection had never felt as strong as it did right now.
“When I look back on my dreams,” she continued, “I realize that most are triggered by something that happened earlier. Everything gets jumbled together so it becomes bits and pieces that don’t make much sense. From the things you said, I got the feeling it wasn’t bits and pieces at all. Instead, and I could be wrong, your nightmare was part of a single experience. You were stuck in one place, unable to get free.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
He hadn’t been looking at her when he spoke, but now he lifted his head, and what she saw tore at her heart. He had this incredibly vulnerable expression, almost as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff trying to decide whether to step off into space. If he’d been a Falcon, the decision would have been a simple one.
“That wasn’t the first time that happened, was it?” she prompted. “You’ve had that—dream before.”
“Too many times.”
Wondering if she’d have to pull things out of him one word at a time, she rested her hands on his knee. At the touch, her body jumped and came alive. Fighting the warmth tightening around her throat and between her breasts, she squeezed his knee. “Something about your voice—you sounded younger than you do now, like a boy.”
“I was.”
I was. As even more heat slid over her, she ground her teeth to keep from stroking him. Much as she wanted to help him take the next step, she wasn’t sure how. If she pushed him too hard or said the wrong thing, he’d retreat into silence. Either that or too much would become about sex. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she came up with. “As children we don’t have much control over our lives.”
“No, we don’t.”
Timing her breathing to his, she again squeezed his knee. “We envy the adults in our lives because we think they have the control we lack. Then we grow up and discover that isn’t true. There’ll always be things none of us can anticipate or plan, that happen whether we want them to or not.”
“Like this.” He indicated her bound wrists.
Nodding, she dropped her gaze and studied her fingers resting on his knee. The bone was barely beneath the surface, large and hard, superbly conditioned and yet part of a vulnerable man.
In her eyes, Raci had been handsome, but next to Nakos, she now saw him as what he’d been: young and untested. Until the Ekewoko had arrived, Raci’s life, like all Falcons’, had been an easy one dictated by whether he was hungry or full. She, too, had timed her changes from human to predator to fit her stomach’s dictates. Granted, she sometimes became a Falcon simply because flying was more interesting than walking.
In contrast, Nakos could never be anything except what he was: an earth-bound man.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. So many things have changed since I learned you and the other Ekewoko exist.”
“And you wish we’d go away.”
“I didn’t say—”
“You don’t have to. You can’t possibly want people who have disrupted your way of life around.”
“Maybe we became complacent,” she offered. “Maybe we need change in order to grow.”
“But shouldn’t it be change you have a say in?”
Not only hadn’t she expected the conversation to take this turn, she couldn’t think how to return it to his nightmare. “I’ve learned many things,” she admitted.
“Such as?”
That it’s possible for Ekewoko and Falcon bodies to come together. “That—that your shaman wields a great deal of power.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
Thinking of things to say was becoming more and more difficult because what did words matter when there was this terrible/wonderful heat between them, and her body kept crying out memories of when they’d fucked?
“What—do you mean?” she stammered.
“Tau’s visions give us guidance, but they aren’t law.”
“You don’t always do what he says you should?”
“Once, when I was a child, the Outsiders came to Ekew. That first time they didn’t stay long but…” He took a long, deep breath, and his features tightened. “Tau’s father, who was shaman then, declared that those people were peaceful and we should welcome them with food and gifts. He was wrong.”
Nakos had been a child then. Did that experience have anything to do with his nightmare? Lifting her hands from his knee, she ran her knuckles over his cheek. Her arms buzzed, and her cunt felt loose and hot. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Using the lead rope, he drew her hands off his cheek and pulled her toward him. Leaving her off-balance, he untied the knots and started massaging her wrists. Her entire body was loosening, flowing. She waited for him to end the silence, but when he didn’t, she looked up again. The stars and moon had been there her entire life. They’d outlived Raci and would outlive her and Nakos.
But tonight they existed to reveal him to her, and her to him.
The muscles along her shoulder blades rippled to remind her of the transformation from human to predator, forcing her to concentrate on staying in human form. That done, she gently pulled free so she could touch his cheek again. Then she ran her fingers down the side of his neck. A vein there jumped, and she pressed her thumb against it.
“Are you trying to choke me?” he asked.
“No. I’d never—”
“No, I don’t think you would. You’re beautiful, Jola. I never thought I’d say that of a Wilding, but you are.”
“We don’t call ourselves Wildings.”
“Then what?”
If she told him, would he guess the truth about Falcons? The greater question was whether she wanted him to know more than the little he did. Dragging her gaze off the heavens and back onto his shadowed features, she decided the timing hadn’t come. But it might.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told him as her fingers began a journ
ey over his shoulders. She’d been right. This was a mature man’s body.
He allowed her to explore his arm, but when she placed both hands flat against his chest, he closed his hands around her wrists, the grip more commanding than the ropes had been. She thought he might pull her off him, but he didn’t, only matched her pace as she circled the hard nub of his nipples. His breath caught; so did hers. Her head swirled, and the knot in her belly tightened in contrast to the flowing sensation in her womb.
Using his thighs to support herself, she knelt beside him. As her hair slid over his chest, she first rubbed her cheek against his nipple and then raked her teeth over it. That done, she moved to his other nipple and took it between her teeth in memory of what he’d done to her.
“By the spirits!” he gasped.
Not wanting to harm him in any way, she contented herself with holding on to him while bathing the nub with her tongue. She leaned toward him, still pressing her hands against his thighs and feeling the powerful muscles there, mind spinning and her pussy dripping.
Perhaps he knew because he slid his hand between her legs and delved into her hole. She waited for him to say something or use his knowledge to his benefit, but he only swirled his finger inside her.
“Ha!” she breathed, not letting go.
“You’re more than beautiful.” He sounded as out of breath as she did. “You’re going to be my ruin.”
She could say the same about him, not that the admission was necessary with her nipples rock hard. When her jaw started to ache, she released him but drew out the leaving by first drenching both nubs. She started to straighten only to stop because she needed his finger filling her. After a moment, she rested her head against his chest, her hands splayed over his thighs. He was so much larger than she, strength in contrast to her weakness. Granted, if she changed form, everything between them would change.
Would she let him see what she was capable of? Did she dare take the risk?
“I thought I might never see you again,” he muttered. “Maybe that’s why I was so angry when you escaped, that and believing you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Not because you couldn’t get certain information from me?”
He sighed, the gesture resonating throughout her. “That doesn’t matter.”
Wondering if he no longer shared his shaman’s goal, she tried to ignore the burning sensation down her back, but moment by moment the strain increased. Sighing, she sat back up. As he did, his finger slid out of her.
“What?” he asked, taking her around the waist and tugging her close. “You aren’t thinking of leaving, are you?”
Earlier he would have simply made sure she couldn’t, but this was now and a great deal had changed between them.
“I won’t, not tonight.”
“But later, maybe?”
“I don’t know what the morning will bring. Neither do you.”
His grunt made her wonder if he was keeping something from her, but whatever it might be would have to wait until the energy between them had been tamped down. The side of her knee pressed against his thigh, preventing her from getting any closer. At the same time, his hands remained on her waist. After assuring herself that she’d fully regained her balance, she let go of his thigh and stroked his chest.
Moisture from her mouth still dampened him there, but it had cooled, giving her reason to roll her palms over him. Friction built to add to the heat she was transferring from her to him. Although he tensed a bit, he made no move to stop her until she tried to capture a nub between her fingers. Then he lightly slapped her rump.
“Some things a man can handle; this isn’t one of them.”
“You don’t like—”
“That’s not what I said.”
She tried to capture his nub between her thumb and forefinger, which earned her another teasing slap. Smiling in the dark, she again leaned into his strength, this time aiming her mouth at his shoulder. Her teeth raked his collarbone.
“Ah woman! I should have left you tied.”
“It’s too late for that.”
20
He could have pointed out that that his superior strength would dictate the outcome of any battle between them. What hopefully he understood was that she didn’t want to fight him, or be treated as she’d been in the past. Tonight was about the new. Them. Not tomorrow.
Losing herself in the vibration rolling from pussy to breasts, she alternated between kissing and playfully biting his collarbone. As she did, he patted her buttocks. A faint drumming sound accompanied his gesture to again bring a smile to her. She was in the moment, alive in the now, every inch of her afire.
Her teeth came down on him with more and more strength. She understood the drumming on her ass and the sensations reaching from there to her sex, nothing more. Night or day, winter or summer, safe or dangerous didn’t matter because there was him, only him.
Her pussy so alive she was forced to press her thighs together, she bit down.
“Ah!” He jerked back, freeing himself.
Before she could apologize, he collapsed onto the ground, bringing her down with him. She was on top of him, chest to chest with her lower body off to the side. Reaching under his loincloth, she cupped his erection.
“You’ve changed,” he said, tight lipped, his hands around her upper arms. “What happened to the woman who didn’t want to touch me?”
She pressed her palm against the hard mound. “You’d tied me, don’t you remember? There was little I could do.”
“Then you would have done this if it was possible?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
With her cheek resting on his chest, she drank in his familiar and yet overwhelming scent. Tasting it throughout her, she acknowledged that she’d taken some of it with her when she’d fled. Maybe his unique essence would never completely leave her.
“The first time between us,” she started, “I was nearly a virgin. I didn’t know what to expect, or whether I could trust you.”
“Nearly a virgin. How many men have there been?”
“One. Only one.”
Not giving him time to probe, she began massaging his thick length. Her hand barely fit around him, giving rise to the need to explore every inch. As engaged as she was in her task, her mind kept sliding back to what she’d just told him. She hadn’t wanted the conversation to take this turn, but did she expect it to be any different? After all, she was Falcon, a woman who a short time ago had believed she’d found her mate. Was that why she was being so bold tonight, because fucking her former captor was better than reliving her loss?
“Jola?” His fingers dug into her arms as he lifted her off him. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. Nothing.”
“Don’t lie.”
She was lying? What about his refusal to explain his nightmare? “I don’t want to think,” she admitted with her fingers still on him and her gaze locked on his deep-set eyes.
“Neither do I.”
That said, he let her down so her breasts were once more flattened against his chest and her cheek absorbed not just his heat but his heartbeat. Instead of settling her attention on what her hand cradled, she ran her lips over his chest. Her eyes started to burn, compelling her to close them. Still, a tear broke free.
“Are you crying?” he whispered.
Unable to answer him, she kissed the flesh over his heart and lightly stroked his cock.
“Wait a moment,” he hissed.
“What?”
“My garment. Take it off.”
Silently thanking him for giving her something to do, she straightened and tugged the rope-held waistband down over his lean hips. Moonlight centered on the dark rod waiting for her. With his help, she dispensed with the loincloth and tossed it aside. Tears still blurred her vision, and her heartbeat carried a command she’d never heard. Giving into the message, she sank down and took his cock head into her mouth.
“By the spirits!”
he gasped, fisting her hair.
Maybe he intended his grip as a warning for her to stop, but until he did, she’d cling to him. Unsure of what she was doing, she drew more of his length into her. His breadth filled her mouth, and she became light-headed. The sensation, both overwhelming and wonderful, captured her full attention. She was vaguely aware of an ache in her back but next to her pleasure of the taste and smell of him, the discomfort was nothing.
Still holding her hair, he cupped a hand over a dangling breast. Feeling possessed by him there, she vowed to hand him the same experience. Because she needed her hands against the ground to hold her balance, her mouth became her only tool, and she opened it to pull yet more of him into her damp warmth. His cock head touched the back of her throat, sending a shock through her. Once she’d adjusted to the new sensation, she lifted her head and slowly let him slide out. The grip on her breast increased.
Thankful for the silence, she took a moment to swallow. Then, turning her head to the side, she licked. Her tongue glided over ridges and silken skin. Again and again she trailed over his length. When she applied so much pressure that she pushed his cock to the side, she followed it, nipping playfully.
His hold on her hair tightened yet more. Her breast now ached, a delicious sensation that floated through it before sliding into her chest wall. From there the pleasure/pain spun down her body. Even as the mix of joy and discomfort settled into her pussy, she fought to keep it manageable by again clamping her legs together. Her hips moved in a primal rhythm.
“Do it,” he commanded, pushing down on the back of her head. “Suck my seed from me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I want that in my sex, nowhere else.”
“What if I commanded—”
“Your time for that is behind us.”
“I could—”
“Don’t.” Determined to end the argument, she ran her tongue over his tip. His cock shuddered. Capturing it between her lips, she lifted her head, stretching him. Another drawing sensation, this one centered around the breast he held, distracted her. Potent heat spun through her.
They began a dance of sorts, a contest perhaps. Every time she tried something new, he did the same to her breast. Once when she tapped his cock with her chin, he released her breast only to claim the other. She arched her back.