Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  He laughed, the sound rich and primal as he drew her closer and situated her more comfortably over him. "See, I knew enough to know not to touch those directly our first time. But now, well—" He slid his fingers along the outer edge of the patch of sensitive skin along the small of her back.

  Gasping, she put her hands to his chest. Her hair slid over her shoulders and face, mingling with his.

  He caught her chin in his hand and brought her gaze back to his. "If you need me to stop, tell me."

  She nodded.

  He brought his lips to hers, but she swept in the rest of the way. The kiss became a tangle of passion and desire. As she ran her hands along his broad chest and up his neck and into his hair, she pressed herself as close as she could.

  Each time he ran his hands over the elmis on her lower back, she stiffened. Sparks exploded in her mind as the sensation intensified and, for some seconds afterward, her entire body became more sensitive, taking in new layers of sensation and awareness.

  He lifted her up then and pulled himself free, then angled her over him and brought her down, impatience flaring for the first time.

  Gasping, she leaned forward, her hands splayed on his chest. "Slower!"

  Once more he lifted her up, supporting her. "Uncomfortable or painful or both?" His gaze searched her as the concern rippled out.

  "Just uncomfortable." She shook her head. "We don't have to stop. I'm just getting used to you. There's a lot of you to get used to." Managing a smile, she shifted her hips and lifted a little higher. It was all to be expected.

  He remained cautious, not even seeming to notice the compliment. "And we can stop."

  He didn't want to. No mindreading needed to tell that. But she knew he would. He would have before as well. Even though it hurt. Even though every instinct probably thundered against it.

  "No. It's good." She pressed down farther and then lifted, her breaths sharpening. It was getting easier. And she wanted to push through. Not simply because there was pleasure and connection but for him now. Because despite all that need he had, he'd corralled himself to be what she needed. It might take time for her to be what he needed or rather to take all he wanted to give, but she would get there. She'd do the best she could tonight even though she felt more awkward than she did on her first day on the uneven bars. "It's good."

  They built a new rhythm between them. Slow but intensifying with each rise and fall.

  When he kissed her wrist elmis, she nearly came out of her skin.

  What were these traitors doing to her? They had never done that before! Before she could do more than yelp, he had slid his other hand along her lower back.

  Even through the dress, his touch, hard and hot, was almost too much. An odd buzzing sensation filled her ears.

  His hands kneaded her hips and to her back, sometimes circling her elmis and sometimes dragging over them as he pushed up against her and she pressed against him. An even headier pleasure swept through her, spiraling through her core, stronger this time.

  It built and built as did the connection. The threads returned, her vision overlaid with the chamber of his thoughts and hers. Tapestries lined with red and tapestries lined with green. They slid and shifted, mingling and dancing, the gold bands stretching and tensing. Her body responded, clenching tight around him as she pressed and lifted, harder and faster.

  He grabbed her face with one hand and brought her gaze back to his. His breaths came harsh and fast. "Look at me, veskaro."

  She grabbed hold of his face as well, her elmis pressed flush with his jaw. "Whatever you need, veskare."

  The look he gave her nearly undid her, the wild question of whether he'd heard her right or only imagined it, his pupils wide with desire.

  She stroked her fingers over his cheek. "Whatever."

  He pounced on her then, moving her beneath him as he mounted her. The dip in the branch allowed him to keep one hand firm against the elmis of her lower back. Whatever it was about those elmis, they spread the sensation throughout the entirety of her body and connected her to him. It wasn't just her own body and nerves and pleasure she felt. It was his as well. His. Separate and clear.

  Her toes curled as she writhed beneath him and dragged her fingernails across his back. He stayed against her, rolling his hips and driving against her. And that one climax wasn't enough. He kept going, remaining in control but barely.

  In the heat of it, he ripped off his doublet and flung it on a branch.

  There was no way on heaven or earth (or oblivion for that matter) that she was stopping this now. So she clung to him, braced against the broad branch, or held onto higher narrower branches as the situation required.

  Sometimes the vestoving was frantic and frenzied, other times slower and more rhythmic. He chased his pleasure and hers repeatedly as the night slid by and until she was so tired she didn't think she could stand or walk or hold onto the tree.

  More than once they paused, mostly for her benefit she guessed. He didn't leave her or go to do other things as WroOth had suggested. No more than a few minutes though before he pulled her close or climbed onto her once more.

  Euphoria felt a long way off—though she wasn't entirely certain what she was looking for—and Naatos showed no signs of weariness or boredom.

  Then finally, it happened. Euphoria. His energy sharpened, his mood peaking as the energetic cords snapped out from him. Whatever restraint he had fractured as he pounced on her and thrust her back against the tree trunk.

  Breathless, she barely got hold of a smaller branch and wrapped her legs around his waist as he seized her hips. Again and again he drove himself hard and deep. He arched back with one final deep thrust, his fingers digging into her hips as he roared with his release.

  She stiffened, her eyes sliding shut as she panted for breath. His longing, his need pulled on the edges of her mind and intruded, merging with her own in an intoxicating blend that nearly carried her away. A deep buzzing sound filled her ears and intensified with her pulse; if she followed it, it would take her to who knew where. She fought to stay in the moment, clinging onto him, trembling and panting as wave after wave of pleasure and relief washed over her.

  Gasping raggedly, he steadied himself on the tree, his other arm now banded around her waist.

  Her nerves were still tingling and burning, her ears ringing. She had to wait for what seemed like minutes to even catch her breath. "Please tell me that you don't plan on going for euphoria every time?"

  He laughed, his heart thundering against her hand. "Did you not enjoy it, veskaro?"

  "I have had far worse experiences in my life." She grinned when he cast an annoyed look in her direction. "Fine. You did well. Beautifully. I don't know what the appropriate congratulatory phrase is for this type of situation."

  He shook his head. "You remain my onion fish."

  "It's hardly applicable here. You've been the one battering me against the rocks—or rather the trees."

  "Hopefully not too much though." He reached for her breast, his fingers grazing her.

  She slid to the side and kissed his cheek. Her heart still raced. Not too much, but how much more before it was too much? Could she really take more than this? "You were much better than I expected."

  Grunting, he leaned back with a half smile. "Stop talking. We rest now." With that, he gestured for her to curl up against him.

  She laughed this time. How was it he made her smile so easily now? "I liked it."

  "Yes, just, no more talking." He covered her mouth. "I'm exhausted."

  "And it isn't dawn. Which means we didn't actually go all night." Why was she even teasing him about this? She was exhausted too, and the thought of anything more strenuous than laying prone on this branch struck her as too much. Yet she couldn't help herself.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you saying you haven't had enough? You have the strength to continue?"

  "What does my strength have to do with it?" She patted his chest. "I was going to let you do all the
work."

  The mock glare he gave her made her burst into more laughter. "I'm joking. There's nothing to prove. It counts, all right? Also… I think your shirt is gone. Probably eaten by an ilma."

  For some reason, he started laughing as well. Not the way he had before, but deep, shaking bellows. He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. His arm wrapped around her and drew her in tight.

  She wiped the tears off his cheek, confused but smiling. "I didn't think it was that funny."

  "It isn't. But it's good to laugh." He kissed her hand and then her neck. "I love you, veskaro."

  "And I love you, veskare."

  He nuzzled her, the contented sigh he breathed rippling through her awareness as if she had done the same.

  When she closed her eyes, she could see the halls of both their minds. Each distinct but now joined. The threads intertwined now, moving like coiling bands of energy. But her red was not muted nor was his green faded.

  Naatos had said in Polfradon that they were joined in satisfaction of both their traditions at the moment when he bonded with her elmis after the locking. That had been true. But it was only now that she felt it was true. The threads twined around one another, glistening in her mind's eye, pulsing with energy and love. Not the same, but connected now. And while she would not entirely lose herself in him or with him, if he left, part of her would be lost as well.

  For better or worse, he was hers and she was his.

  She rested her head on his arm as they basked in the relative peace of the night. Those dragons were still about, presumably eating or challenging one another based on the sounds. If the dolmaths had come out, she hadn't seen them. For the dragons alone, there had never been such a night. But it was memorable and good for other reasons.

  "Are you actually going to sleep?" she asked.

  He grunted.

  Reaching up, she traced a line along his face and pressed back a thick lock of black hair. Then she curled against him, the pleasant exhaustion and boneless sensation almost compensating for the aches and groans of her muscles. She prayed there wouldn't be a stampede or anything even close to that. Even if he did heal her, she didn't want to even think about more physical activity.

  "Is it safe for us both to sleep or do you need me to keep watch?"

  He chuckled. "I'm not sleeping. Only resting. You can sleep. I'm aware. Nothing will hurt you."

  She kissed his forehead. "I could keep watch."

  "Yes, if you could see in the dark and hear a full hundred feet beyond our perimeter and smell anything that isn't nauseatingly powerful in its odor." He grinned as he said this, his eyes still closed. His arm tightened around her, bringing her onto his chest. "You can sleep. Everything is fine, veskaro."

  She let her eyes drift shut, enjoying his warmth contrasted with the cool of the night and the pleasant calm which had spread through her entire body. No dreams disturbed her sleep this time. It was simply a comforting darkness.

  Then a sharp blade of alarm cut over her. Someone was watching.

  64

  Not a Good Surprise

  WroOth felt that he had led a strange life. More or less. It rarely went the way he thought, but he always adapted. Or he made the world adapt to him.

  There was something especially relentless about Ecekom that made it challenging this time. Something almost hateful. Amelia had described it as angry. Maybe it was. The Tue-Rah allegedly had a consciousness of its own. Why not the worlds? And why wouldn't Ecekom be angry? All that must have happened here over the centuries? The destruction. The devastation. The deviations.

  This sense of hate… it troubled him because it wasn't just in the soil but in the air. Especially in the storm.

  He plucked a twig from the forked branch he rested on and began snapping it into pieces. Maybe he was anthropomorphizing the weather. It was easy to do.

  But something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Those dragons.

  He had insisted on putting the rels up in the higher portions of the banlo tree because he preferred the height and the air moving over his face. But it also let him study the grassland between them and the mountains, and that included the dragons. Dragons who should have been sleeping thanks to the dolmaths, but who were instead feasting on the prey they'd claimed from the stampede.

  There wasn't even a trace of that sesame oil scent on the wind. Most likely the dolmaths had chosen to cluster around the ilmas. They were massive and rich with heat. Except… that shouldn't have meant the scent was gone.

  He'd volunteered for the first watch and then kept going. Dawn was only a couple hours away.

  Sleep had been harder to find lately. He missed his puzzle box with the pictures of Mara and their children. And snapping twigs into smaller bits was not as soothing. Especially if he couldn't drop the bits on Naatos.

  Still, there was enough to contemplate this night that he didn't have to worry about meandering down dark paths that might not let him out again.

  The cunningness of these dragons troubled him. Most dragons were remarkably strong and intelligent. Amelia had once asked him whether they had a cerebral cortex and pointed out that crocodiles were the only reptiles on Eiram known to have these. Allegedly that was why they could plot to a degree and why many held grudges. Most dragons did both as well.

  But these dragons had organized a trap. More than that, they had corralled the stampede into the grassland and dragged their kills to the side just far enough so that the rest of the stupid beasts concluded they were not in danger. Their bulk and natural armor made them easy masters of this biome. Their pack hunting nature gave them an advantage over most wild dragons, and they were certainly the largest pack hunters he had ever seen on any world. All of this boded poorly for his family.

  Things did not generally go the way he anticipated, but if he had to bet, these creatures were going to give them a great deal of trouble. They would assuredly take any dragon form as a direct threat and deal with it swiftly and aggressively. Even the flighted forms they had chosen had brought more than the usual share of ire.

  Not that any creature was going to keep him out of his dragon form for long. He'd fought long and hard to master as many as possible, and all dragons had their weaknesses.

  He narrowed his eyes at the nearest one. Not that it could see him. It was far too absorbed in finishing off the last of an ilma from the afternoon's slaughter and more than five hundred feet away upwind. It probably didn't even know he existed. Practically speaking that wasn't a terrible thing. Impractically speaking, he wanted to throw a fireball in its face.

  A sharp purple light flared in the plain. He sat up, his brows lifting. A blood portal.

  That was not good.

  The blood portal spun, shimmering and glowing, the edges scarlet. The intensity of the color meant it had just been fed.

  Something was coming.

  He leaned forward, adjusting his eyes to improve his range of sight and clarity. Then he kicked AaQar in the shoulder. "Wake up, something interesting is happening."

  A strange creature emerged, long and gaunt with gangly limbs and bulging compound eyes like a fly's.

  It had no scent, but it was unmistakable. An unformed one.

  His stomach twisted with horror. It had been years since he'd seen one. It could be here for only one purpose.

  AaQar swore under his breath. He then roused QueQoa.

  WroOth leaned out farther on the branch.

  Unformed ones were almost impossible to track. The sorcery used to create them removed their scent, and they moved silently. Their bodies were cold. Truly the only consistent way to track them was to note how the animals behaved. No living creature could stand them. Not birds. Not insects. Not even great predators like these dragons. Even the massive gokarn which was as big as a mountain would flee if one of the unformed came within three feet of it.

  The unformed slid out along the grass, crouching low. It picked up its pace, moving faster and faster toward the tree they'd left Amelia and Naa
tos in.

  Not that it would get far.

  He dropped out of the tree silently as AaQar and QueQoa did the same.

  Another unformed one had slipped out as well. QueQoa moved for this one as AaQar went for the blood portal itself.

  The first unformed one was only a few dozen yards away. Keeping his steps light, WroOth swept through the grass and tackled it.

  The creature choked and flailed. It was strong for its size and type, but he pinned it easily, using his knee to keep it down as he grabbed its clammy neck. The skin at once burned his flesh as the acidic toxin leeched out of its skin.

  "I'm sorry, friend," he said. "You did not deserve this." With that, he snapped the creature's neck. The light faded from the its luminous eyes. No trace of the human who had once housed this soul remained. The only peace to be had was knowing that its suffering had ended and whoever it was had gone on to peace.

  He stepped back, splaying his hands as he healed them. Poor soul. Whoever had done this had worked them over horribly based on the brutal scarring and twisted muscles. Quite probably over a long time.

  The nearest dragon huffed a warning, its gaze lazy as it scanned the grassland.

  He huffed back, though it lacked the effect he preferred. Good as he was, he couldn't handle more than a dozen massive dragons in foul moods. Especially not before he'd determined their weaknesses.

  The blood portal behind him hissed. He turned. AaQar prodded the side with the tip of his staff. The wire along the top of his staff twisted out and around the scarlet energy.

  The blood portal twisted and spasmed. Using his hand to better channel the energy, he intensified it. The gold and silver light seared and sliced against it until at last the portal collapsed, leaving behind a scent of iron, copper, and smoke.

  "We need to bring the family back together," AaQar said grimly. "This is most certainly not the only one, and that means that there are more unformed ones."

  A good idea. He hadn't liked leaving Naatos and Amelia alone to begin with, but if Amelia was mortified to find out they could smell "mood changes," she might come close to dying if they heard anything. At least for now. As much fun as it was to torment her sometimes, there was little sense in making her snap. The last thing she and Naatos needed was another barrier. Well, that or an unformed one dropping in on them.