Authors: Vonna Harper
“Today you’re driving me crazy.”
“You do not like that?”
“You know the answer to that, damn it.”
She wanted to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat. No
matter what she did, she couldn’t turn her back on the sorrow waiting deep in
her mind. Determined to hold it at bay for as long as possible, she searched
the ground until she found some clover. She picked that and brushed his balls
with the small rounded leaves. His breathing had no rhythm, and she could smell
his sweat.
You will not easily forget me,
she thought.
No
matter what you do, who you fuck, I will remain in your memory.
After placing the now-sticky clover on his hip, she dug
around the ground cover until she’d loosened some dirt and sprinkled that over
his cock.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Life comes from the earth, Taurus. You may not want it on
your body, on what you used to place your seed inside me, but it is my gift to
you.” She positioned her palm along the underside of his cock. “This is a
simple piece of flesh, no good for fighting or hunting. It is vulnerable,
sensitive.”
“Right now…it sure as hell is.”
“It controls a man. Perhaps he should hate it, but nothing
is more important to him.” After running her fingers over his now dirt-touched
cock, she collected more earth and sprinkled that over him. “I give you what is
most important to me—the earth where my ancestors walked and where someday my
grandchildren will do the same.”
A lump caught in her throat. This time when the tears came,
she was helpless to stop them. When he placed his hand under her chin and
lifted her head, she saw him through blurred vision.
“That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?” he whispered.
“Not just to get you pregnant, but so I, a man from the future, would
understand what’s special about this place.”
“I did only what I was told to. But you are right, this land
is magic to us.” It hurt to speak. “The priests want to take away that magic,
but they will fail. I know they will.”
He wiped at a tear then put his finger against her lips so
she could taste her salt. “I hope you’re right.”
“Taurus, when I was in your time, it was Bel-fire. No one
has destroyed that.”
“Destroyed, no. But it has changed a great deal, you said so
yourself. Most people have no idea of the celebration’s roots. I want…”
“What do you want?”
He shook his head and touched his cock. “What you promised.”
She could do that. As thoughts of how wonderful it would
feel to have him inside her took over, she shoved everything else aside.
A gentle brushing with the grass and clover removed the dirt
from his cock. Once he was clean, she pressed on his hips to let him know she
wanted him to lie down. Then she positioned herself over him, her cunt
dripping. Before she could settle herself over him, he slid his hand between
the two of them and ran his fingers over her heated lips. Then he licked one of
his juice-dampened fingers and offered another to her. The act of sharing her
sex fluid felt like a kind of marriage.
Again tears threatened. She fought them by manually
spreading her lips and positioning her pussy over his cock. As soon as she felt
him inside her, part of her, she lost touch with everything except the fire
flowing through her veins.
He gripped her pelvis and set the pace. Under his guidance,
she began with a series of slow thrusts and retreats. Every time she pressed
down, she felt as if they were becoming one. Maybe she could swallow all of him.
Then he pushed up and she lifted off him, nearly losing him.
She hated the loss, yet she knew he’d soon fill her again. She could celebrate
every step of the journey, play with him and have him play with her. In. Out.
Up. Down. Wet pussy being rubbed and heated, tested and tasted.
Then with the strength in his fingers, he directed her to
pick up the pace. Her thigh muscles began to burn and thrusting up and down as
rapidly as she could caused her to break out in a fresh sweat. His cock jerked
out of rhythm with her movements, adding to the friction.
Everything else faded into nothing. There was only her pussy
and his cock, trying to breathe, settling down and lifting, faster, faster, her
cheeks on fire and sweat sealing her hair to her forehead, throat and neck.
She took the initiative by leaning forward and bracing her
hands on his hips. She felt his gaze bore into her. His mouth, like hers, hung
open. His cheeks had turned red, and the tendons along the sides of his neck
were taut.
He stared at her. She stared at him. And she drove down,
down until she’d flattened his balls. Then she clamped her pussy muscles around
his cock and drew both of them up.
He grunted, lifted his ass off the ground and drove into
her, slamming his cock against her pussy walls. She released her grip, spread
her cunt and felt herself soften inside, ready to accept his liquid seed.
He came and came and came. His cock jerked, jerked again.
She felt everything about his ejaculation. Then fire fingers took hold of her
cunt and seared it. She was losing—losing…
Lost.
In whatever space he was in.
Maia had collapsed on top of him, but although Taron’s right
arm had gone numb, he didn’t try to ease her off him. He was acutely aware of
her earthy smell blending with his own drying sweat and cum. He also noticed
the scents brought by the wind.
Although he couldn’t name the various trees and flowers, he
couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. More than perfect, he amended because
the wind had brought him a soul-deep sense of peace. It could just be the
result of having spent himself sexually, but always in the past, as soon as
he’d gotten his rocks off, he’d start to think about the responsibilities and
decisions ahead of him. This morning his mind refused to go beyond this moment.
He was so intent on monitoring what his nostrils were
telling him that he was slow to notice anything else. Maia, however, went from
what felt like unconsciousness to alert so quickly that she put him in mind of
a wild animal conditioned for survival. Like the proverbial cat, she sprang to
her feet and pulled on her gown—not that it hid her nakedness.
“What is it?” he asked as he reached for his briefs.
“Someone comes.”
Where the hell was his lighter? If those idiot priests—no,
not the priests, he amended. Drums echoed on the air, seeming to drift toward
them. He watched her relax.
“Your people,” he said.
She nodded. “They come for…for me.”
Had she been about to say
us
? Because he wasn’t ready
to go there, he concentrated on dressing, not that putting back on his rumpled,
grass-stained slacks did anything for the image of a successful company
president. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maia pick up the dagger. She
didn’t look at the jewel.
“What do they want you for?” He forced the question.
“It does not concern you.”
The hell it doesn’t.
But maybe she was right because
he belonged in another world, another place, other responsibilities.
What felt like a thousand thoughts, all of them conflicting,
bombarded him. He was grateful when a group of perhaps twenty villagers,
including The Lady and the old men came into view. Two boys who looked to be
nine or ten years old walked at the front and were responsible for the
drumming. When the boys slapped their cupped hands against the thin, stretched
leather, at first there was no sound. Then maybe a second later something deep
and guttural reverberated. It felt as if it came from the earth and trees.
“Incredible,” he whispered.
“It is our world’s heart beating,” Maia said.
He didn’t know he was going to wrap his arm around her and
pull her against him, but he did. Her hip rubbed against his, sensual and
familiar, precious. He slid his hand down over her stomach until his
outstretched fingers touched her pubic hair through the disheveled and nearly
nonexistent dress.
The group stopped when they were about fifteen feet away.
The drumming continued. He was starting to feel uneasy when The Lady stepped
forward. Now she was dressed in a gown the color of new grass and carried a
couple of flower and vine arrangements in a circular design. Maia lowered her
head so The Lady could place one on her. Then when The Lady turned to him, he
did the same. The headdress—he couldn’t think what else to call it—was
featherlight and smelled of roses and lavender.
“What is this?” he asked.
The Lady smiled. “Our gift to you for what you have done.”
“What have I done?”
“Stopped the priests.”
“For now. It isn’t over, you know that. What about the one I
caught on fire? Is he dead?”
“Not yet.”
Not yet
. “But you think he’s going to?”
The Lady shrugged. “His companions will not let me near him.
If I was, I could save him.”
“How can you be sure?” Maia’s warmth under his fingers was
distracting him, and was he only imagining it, or was she pressing her hip
against his?
“The priests brought their own medicine here, that and
prayers. But they do not help because those medicines are not from the land.”
Who was he to argue when she’d been right about everything
else? He nodded, hoping she’d continue. At the same time, he acknowledged that
he was getting yet another erection. Everything felt intense, clear.
“The earth provides,” The Lady continued. “It blesses us
with countless growing things. Some of them heal.”
Recalling Maia’s miraculous recovery, he nodded. “What do
you care what happens to that priest?” he asked.
“It is not our way to fight,” The Lady whispered. “We
celebrate the seasons, spring with its renewal is most important. That is what
the priests and soldiers do not understand.”
“And they call you heathens? They don’t care what you celebrate
or why. All that matters to them is that you bend to their will.”
“You understand, then.”
Did he?
The answer was more than important. He sensed
it had everything to do with these people’s future. “I’m trying to.”
“Why?”
Why indeed? His head pounded, distracting him from his
erection. Maia turned into him, increasing his access to her pussy. She was
taking advantage of his lust for her, but instead of being angry, he wrapped
his arm around her hip. He wanted to cup her pussy, but even more, he needed to
keep his thoughts clear.
“I care,” he said. “About all of you. Maybe more than I’ve
ever cared for anything in my life.” The words slammed into him, spread over
him.
“Why?” The Lady asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “That’s the hell of it, I don’t
know.”
“I believe you do, Taurus.”
Before he could remind her that that wasn’t his name—if he
was going to—the drumming increased in volume and tempo. The sky was crystal
blue, but he swore he heard thunder. When he looked over at the villagers, he
saw everyone stomping their feet in time with the drum beats. A trio of
preschool-age girls stepped in front of the drummers and began dancing
enthusiastically, their arms over their heads, swaying. The look on their
faces—like children on Christmas morning. The old men smiled and nodded and
kept on stomping.
Maia began to move, at first only a faint swaying but then
more and more vigorously. Although he didn’t want to, he had no choice but to
release her. The moment she was free, she hurried over to the girls, stretched
her arms toward the sky and threw back her head. Then she closed her eyes and
started a dance that looked for all the world like grass blowing in the wind.
She still held the dagger. He saw, not her limp and wrinkled
gown, but her naked body beneath it. Her breasts, free of modern restraints,
danced with the rest of her. Her nipples were hard, dark points. He rubbed his
hand over his swollen cock, unsuccessfully trying to ease his discomfort.
“She will return to you for as long as you remain here,” The
Lady said. “She wants to breed as much as you do. But now she belongs to
Bel-fire.”
Only then did he realize that some men had been building a
pile out of dead branches. One took a burning brand from an onlooker and caught
the pile on fire.
Flames leaped upward like exuberant children. The drumming
became even quicker-paced. The dancers whirled and reached for the sky. Maia,
looking as if she were in a trance, was part and parcel of the frenzied
movement. She seemed to weigh nothing, to be more fairy spirit than woman. He
lost himself in her curves and long arms and legs, the small feet kissing the
ground, slender fingers stretched to grasp the heavens. Her dark hair trailed
down her back and caressed it. Damn, but she was beautiful, part earth woman,
part sex goddess.
Mother of his child.
On legs that seemed to move without direction, he walked
over to her. He placed his hands lightly on her waist so as not to restrict her
movement. Her eyes remained closed and the look on her face—peace and promise
rolled into one—snagged his heart.
Together they danced, not a dance really, but fucking
standing up without his cock in her cunt. She dictated their movements. He had
no trouble following her, heard the drums, pounding feet and thunder, not as
he’d always heard sound before but through his pores, running in his veins,
heat spreading through him. Taking over.
He glided with her, hummed deep in his throat when she did.
His feet kissed the earth too. He smelled sweet smoke, roses, lavender, her.
Them.
Her movements changed. She no longer swayed from side to
side but now thrust her pelvis toward him. He met her in that as well, inhaled
her sexual excitement and his sweat. He pumped, pumped, pumped, unaware of
anything except fucking her through their clothing.
He came fast and hard. She too climaxed, the truth evident
in her sharp, low cries. Still moaning, she began swaying from side to side
again, arms high over her head.
Holding her against him with one hand, he lifted the other
and gently drew the dagger out of her fingers, leaving her holding the sheath.
Only then did she stop and become still and quiet. Like him, she stared at the
dagger. The drumming had taken over everything, touching his skin. He heard the
fire crackle. Bel-fire.
She placed her hand over his and turned the dagger so they
both saw into the jewel.
Two figures stood face-to-face. Maia’s belly was rounded,
her breasts heavy with impending motherhood. Taurus covered her belly with his
hands.