He’d deliberately pulled his blow, hitting her only hard enough to temporarily cause her soul to fly. She would wake soon. She had to, because he wanted to look into her eyes when he took her.
He ran his finger down her jaw and could barely contain himself. The need within him was alive, a palpable presence that churned in his guts and bones.
He bent down and nuzzled his cheek against hers, then whispered in her ear, “Are you ready? We are together at last.”
He’d waited so long for this that he feared he might rush and ruin it. But it was getting dark, and a storm was breaking. He didn’t wish to do this in the dark while rain pelted their naked bodies, so he had to hurry.
He held out his shaking hands and flexed his fingers several times; then he reached down and untied the laces of her cape. When he threw it back, he saw the beautiful crimson dress she wore. The shell beads that covered the bodice winked and glimmered in the flashes of distant lightning.
She was limp as he lifted her and slid the dress from her smooth pale skin. Carefully, deliberately, and with great tenderness, he arranged her on his cloak. Rolling her dress, he made a pillow for her head, and then like an artist painting a shield, he stretched her matted hair out so that the red tresses lay like rays of sunlight on the dry leaves.
Fighting to still his trembling, he massaged her full breasts. At the touch of her smooth warm skin, an electric sensation flushed his veins. He ran his palms over the curve of her ribs, down the dip of her waist, across the bone in her hips to the flat above her pubis. His fingers traced the downy softness of her curly pubic hair. He bent down and filled his lungs with the scent of her womanhood.
He ripped off his war shirt and stared down at his stiff penis where it jutted out from below his muscular belly. Need, like a fire, burned inside him. His erection had become a tingling ache as he positioned himself between her muscular legs.
He whimpered as he lowered himself onto her. His fevered penis slipped along the inside of her thigh, and he gasped at the point of ejaculation.
You’re going too fast! You’ve Dreamed this ten tens of times! You are supposed to savor her! Use your tongue to taste her before you—
Dzoo opened her eyes.
His face was less than a hand from hers. He was panting as he thrust his fingers into her and opened her to his manhood.
She didn’t struggle, but rolled her hips back ready to receive him. Her dark luminous eyes began to drink his soul. She must have wanted him as badly as he’d wanted her.
“Are you ready?” he whispered huskily.
She was dry when he forced himself inside; her eyes widened slightly.
Gripping a handful of her red hair, he took it into his mouth. He could taste her blood; it stoked his desire even more. He sucked at her hair and thrust as hard as he could. Her legs were rising, tightening around him. He should have removed her leggings! Then it would only be her skin against his sides, across his back.
By the gods! Yes! Yes! He felt the tingling sensation building at the root of his penis. She was watching him, a gleam in her eyes, a faint parting of her lips as she anticipated the explosion of his loins.
His whole body convulsed with each jetting of his seed inside her.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her reach for her legging. Then her pale hand lifted …
Sixty-eight
From the platform within Wasp Village’s walls, Evening Star stared in amazement as Ecan plucked a head-sized stone from the ground and crushed Cimmis’s chest. She watched White Stone start at the sight, barely hesitate, and then race in pursuit of the fleeing Starwatcher. She saw the war chief’s arm whip back as he sent a spear flying after Ecan. Gods! Had she just witnessed what she thought she had?
In confirmation, the North Wind party broke into shouts and began running back and forth in confusion. White Stone turned back, bellowing orders, and the litter bearers bent over Cimmis. From her vantage inside Wasp Village, Evening Star could see Cimmis’s legs as he writhed and kicked in pain.
She glanced at Sleeper, himself gaping in disbelief. He asked, “Should we attack them? Even with our five tens, there could be no better time. They’re disorganized, stunned.”
“No.” She shot a quick glance at the lodge closest to the gate. “Stick to the plan. Be patient.”
He nodded, looking unsure.
She glanced back across Wasp Village. At the far end she could see ten of her warriors surrounding the two lodges where they had confined Tsak and his warriors. Here and there she could see her people prowling, swinging their axes or cradling spears as they ensured the rest of the villagers stayed put in their lodges.
She remembered the stunned look on Tsak’s face as she stepped up and pressed a bone stiletto against his throat. Even as the Wasp Village warriors had begun to understand, Sleeper’s warriors had surrounded them, sealing their fate. Rather than die, all but a handful had surrendered. The bodies of those who had not lay hidden under a cover of sea-grass matting.