Llewellyn’s Song (5 page)

“True. Frostbone has a huge debt to you. I hope he will
honor it. Demons are strange beasts. One never knows what they are thinking or
how they will react. We avoid them at all cost.”

“Very wise,” said Llewellyn. He nodded toward her bowl. “Eat!”

“I am eating.” But she didn’t. She took a small morsel and
nibbled it. “What do you feel for me?” she asked.

The question took him by surprise. “I like you.” Oh, wrong
thing to say. Her face darkened. All right, he could be as brave as she was. “Do
you want the truth?”

She nodded warily.

“I’m confused. I know you must return to your people, but I
want to keep you near me always. I love watching you when you sleep, when you
eat, when you laugh and even when you cry. I think you are beautiful and
strong. You are stronger than I am. That amazes me.”

“Huh. Physically you can tie me in knots.” She looked
pleased though.

“Perhaps. But mentally you seem to be able to face things I
cannot. I don’t know if I would have survived being savaged by a behemoth and
left in a cave to die. If someone I considered an enemy saved me, I don’t know
if I would have given my trust. That would have made healing nearly impossible.
You trusted me with your life, and that took such strength I can’t imagine.” He
grinned at her. “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” She set the bowl down and looked up at
him, her eyes huge. “Or rather, I’ve got another hunger. One only you can
assuage.”

He didn’t know how she did it. Her eyes seemed to fill with
darkness, like swirling clouds, and the darkness was deep, pulling him closer.
Before he knew what happened, his body had reacted. He took her bowl from her,
setting it down before stripping his leggings off and sliding onto the pallet
with her. She opened her arms and legs and he sank into her embrace.

Her skin was hot, her eyes incandescent with desire. When
she arched her back, his cock, already stiff, found her sex. He reached down
and felt with his fingers. She was ready. Her wetness coated his fingers and he
groaned. His cock drove into her passage. It was tight, but she grabbed his
hips and pulled him into her. His cock slid into her sheath smoothly and she
uttered a little gasp.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No!” She gave a little laugh. “It’s just surprising, that’s
all. It feels…heavy inside me.” She moved her hips, and his cock lodged into
her sex right up to his balls. The feeling nearly drove him mad. He knew that
if he started thrusting he’d lose it. He hadn’t made love in too long.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He buried his face in the crook of
her neck, breathing in the musky sweetness of her skin. He closed his eyes, his
whole being concentrated in his loins.

“Next time it will be better,” he moaned, trying to control
himself. He managed to slide in and out a few times, but then Tamara lifted her
hips with an amazed cry. It undid him. He shattered into a million spasms of
delight, thrusting with all his force into her.

She wrapped her legs around him, her breathing getting
gradually slower. Then her arms slid off his shoulders, her legs unwound, and
he saw she was sound asleep.

He pried himself off the bed and managed to stagger to the
spring and fetch a bucket of water to heat next to the fire. Then he went back
to the pallet and collapsed next to her, burrowing into her warmth with a deep
sigh.

Forces of Day

The next day dawned cold and bright. Tamara woke and
stretched. She’d done it. There was no going back. She waited for a minute,
motionless, afraid to think too far ahead. But there was no sense of impending doom,
rather, she felt a strange lightness in her bones, as if invisible chains had
been shed. Her body felt both sore and supple. Her back had healed. Her health
had returned. And she was so hungry she could eat a behemoth. She poked
Llewellyn.

“Husband. Go fetch me something to eat. I’m starving.”

He raised his head and his one good eye stared at her with a
mixture of emotions she couldn’t put name to. Mostly disbelief, she thought.

“Excuse me?”

“What part didn’t you understand? I’m hungry!”

He raised his eyebrow. “No, not that part. Why did you call
me husband?”

Well, here it was. The moment she’d both feared and hoped
for. “Because you are my husband now. In my tribe, a d’ark t’uath is considered
married once she loses her virginity. Usually we marry between ourselves, but
the tradition is inviolate. We made love. I was a virgin. You are my husband.”

There was an awkward silence. His smile seemed to last longer
than a smile should. The muscles on his face hardened, but his good eye gave
nothing away. “Did you know this when you decided to make love to me?”

“Yes.”

“And you made love to me anyway. You made your own decision.”
He was speaking more to himself than to her, so she didn’t answer. He sat
still, staring over her shoulder.

She didn’t like his silence. She sat up and pushed him. “Out
of bed. Food.”

With a movement like a quick snake, he turned, pinned her
arms over her head and held them there. She’d forgotten how strong males were. “I’m
sorry. I don’t take orders very well.” He lowered his head to her chest and
took one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked it, teasing it with his tongue.
The effect was a violent, stabbing sort of ache in her cunt. It grabbed her
womb and tightened it. A flood of wetness dampened her inner thighs.

“Are you angry with me?” She had to know.

He paused, but didn’t let go of her. “No. But I think you
need to learn that some decisions are better made together, not alone.”

“I had to do this on my own,” she whispered. “I didn’t want
anyone to influence my choice.”

“It doesn’t seem that way to me,” he said, and taking her
nipple in his teeth, he bit down gently but firmly. Pain and pleasure stabbed
through her.

She struggled and he let go of her nipple, but he didn’t let
go of her arms. Instead, he took both her slender wrists in one hand, and
holding her immobile, with his other hand began to explore her body. He stroked
her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her belly, and then dipped between her
legs and stroked her sex. He inserted one finger between her labia and slid up
and down, just brushing her clit and teasing the entrance to her passage so
that it gaped wide, wanting to take him in.

“Please,” she gasped, arching her back. She needed him to
plunge inside her to still that ache!

But he continued to tease her. His fingers were agile and
gentle. His touch featherlight and yet masterful. Soon she was weeping with
frustration, writhing to escape his grasp. She could see his cock, it was
erect.

“Take me,” she begged.

“Please?” He paused.

“Please!” she hollered. The cry tore from her throat.

He let go of her hands and parted her legs, then slowly
inserted his cock into her body. She watched, fascinated, as his body melted
into hers. They became one. He moved, his hips lifting and thrusting and his
cock, shiny now with her wetness, slid in and out of her sex. Llewellyn held
himself up on his forearms so she could see.

And she watched, more and more turned on, as he penetrated
her. She loved watching it pull in and out. But soon her vision blurred and a
burning, urgent longing took hold of her.

“Harder,” she begged, and he obliged. The wave crested over
her, submerged her, and left her panting and drained. Llewellyn uttered a
hoarse cry and she felt small spasms deep inside her, and she knew he’d
ejaculated. It set off another orgasm, smaller this time, that shook her body.
She wanted to slide back into sleep again, but she had to get up.

“Husband, I need to leave the bed.” She paused. “Please?”

He chuckled. “Go ahead. I brought in some water and filled a
bucket last night. The water should be warm.”

Tamara sat up and stretched. Tiny whispers of pain reminded
her where her wounds had been, but the healing powers of the Earth Mother and
of the wood elf had worked. Her bones had knitted, her organs mended and her
skin was once again smooth and flawless. And dirty. She missed the sponge baths
Llewellyn gave her. With a grin, she went to the bucket and began to wash,
making sure he was watching her.

He pretended not to notice, but he kept his good eye in her
direction. She hid a smile and drew the sponge over her neck and chest, swirled
it around her breasts, then dipped it between her thighs. She washed the sticky
proof of their lovemaking away, all the while keeping an eye on Llewellyn. His
cock hardened again. She felt an answering ache in her belly, but her sex was
sore. She winced as the water stung. She would have to wait a while before
impaling herself again on his wonderful cock. The thought made her dizzy and
she took a deep breath.

There were herbs in the water—herbs to clean and to scent.
The wood elves smelled like the forest. There was balsam and birch, and some
other things she didn’t recognize. When she finished, she took another sponge,
wet it and went to the bed.

“Bare yourself, husband,” she said.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Go on. I won’t hurt you.” She knelt and washed him, paying
most attention to the parts of him that most fascinated her. How interesting!
What a fascinating texture. Soft and hard, smooth and rugged, his scrotum was
so soft, and his cock was so hard.

She glanced at him and saw his eye was closed, his fist
clenched.

“Let yourself go,” she purred, and stroked him some more.

He did. All over her hands. Interesting. The sight sent
tremors all through her body. She hadn’t known she could have an orgasm just by
looking at a man ejaculate. It was exciting.

She washed him off and then stood slowly. She put the sponge
back in the bucket. Llewellyn rose on his elbow and looked at her.

“It is the time to dress and talk. There is much to be
decided today.” Now that she was married, she had a different set of
responsibilities. And they started with letting Llewellyn know all about her
tribe and their traditions, so he would know just what she’d chosen, and what
she’d given up.

He nodded and got out of the bed. She couldn’t get enough of
his body. So tall, with his straight black hair and muscles that looked to be
carved from stone so sharp and hard-edged they were. She could stare at him all
day. But she had other things to do now. She pulled her tunic over her head and
put on the warm leggings Llewellyn had given her. He dressed too, and put a pot
of water on the fire to boil. When their breakfast was ready—a pot of tea and
some dried berries and smoked fish—they sat together near the fire.

Llewellyn hadn’t said a word, and when they finished eating
he put his empty bowl down and looked at her expectantly. “Am I really your
husband now? What does that mean for you and your tribe?”

She was glad he didn’t sound angry, and she took the time to
consider her answers. “Yes, you are my husband now. We have no ceremony to mark
a marriage. What seals a marriage is the act of making love and breaking the
hymen. Usually a marriage is between two women. Men are only for making
babies.”

“I wish you’d told me this before,” he said softly.

Stung, she replied, “Would that have changed anything?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know. I just would have preferred to
know beforehand, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry.” She raised her head. “You can divorce me
whenever you wish. All it takes is that you say three times, ‘I divorce you’.
Then you will be free. Since men cannot live in our tribe with us, this is what
they do. They proclaim the divorce and then they leave.”

“But what about the children?” Llewellyn wanted to know.

Tamara shrugged. “If the child is a girl, she stays with the
tribe. If it is a boy, the father makes a pact to come and get him, and raise
him in his tribe. Is that what you want?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve trapped you…”

“I didn’t say that either.” He reached over and grasped her
wrist. “I want you. I need you. The moment I saw you I thought you were the
most fascinating woman I’d ever seen.” He let go and leaned back. “I accept
that you chose me as your husband. It’s over and done. But I would know more.
Continue.”

“We—”

“I would like to know one thing,” he interrupted, and she
saw a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes?”

“What do you use to break your hymens in your tribe?”

She felt a flush warm her cheeks. “What do you think? We
have toys made for loving. They resemble your cock—though I admit they are not
as fine.”

He grinned, and she realized he’d been teasing her. “You are
too curious for your own good. My tribe would have taken great joy hanging you
by your wrists and coaxing your seed from your cock. That’s how the clan
mothers mate. The male is tied so he can’t become violent.” She giggled at his
expression.

“It sounds like every male’s dream come true.” He cleared
his throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of your traditions. Now,
continue. What does being your husband mean for me?”

“We are bound to one another. We are as one. Everything I
own is yours, and vice versa. If we divorce everything is divided fairly
between us. It means I will accompany you to the north to speak with Frostbone.
I have linked my destiny to Hivernia and given up my place in my tribe. I
cannot ever go back. Not even to gather my belongings.” Her voice faltered, but
she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’m afraid I didn’t
bring much to this marriage. But I swear I will try to be a good husband too.”

He blinked. “You’re my husband too? I thought you were my
wife.”

“We have no wives in our tribe.” She shrugged.

“In my tribe, you are my wife. You will have to get used to
it. I’m the husband, you are the wife. Got that?”

Well, she could accept that small thing. After all, what was
a word? Her tribe had told her about the inequalities in other tribes’
marriages. She hoped hers would prove to be based more upon her idea of a
marriage. “We are equal in the eyes of the law in my tribe,” she reminded him, “even
though I no longer live with them.”

“In my tribe too,” he answered. “There is no difference
between the worth of a man and the worth of a woman.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” she said.

“Long ago, there were laws that created inequalities. But
they have been revised. Your tribe should keep up with the times,” he said.

She knew he teased again, but she nodded. “We must avoid my
territory. I am now a traitor to the d’ark t’uaths. If you wish, you may go to
the trading post and tell them I am alive. But I must stay out of sight or I
will be captured and put to death. That is the law.”

He paled. “Tamara…”

“I knew what I was doing,” she said. It hurt, of course it
did. But there had always been a streak of restlessness in her. The world
seemed too small, confined to the d’ark t’uath’s caves and valleys. Now she
belonged to the rest of the world. Part of her still cried in pain, but for the
most part she was looking forward to what life had to offer now she was married
to a wood elf. “Will your family like me?” she asked.

He took her face in his hands. “They will adore you.” His
mouth found hers and she melted into his kiss. Life should always be so sweet,
she thought.