On the Edge (5 page)

“Fine. But tell them to come find me if she gets worse. Or better. Or…” Just as quickly her emotions shifted, the frown line faded and her eyes grew bright with tears. He was still startled by them, by her sudden bouts of tears, and he waited for them to fall. But she sniffled, and the tears faded. He let out the breath he held.

“The priest, and Joseph know your wishes. You will always know how she is. Now come with me.” He took her hand, and she let him lead her toward one of the empty huts. A guard appeared and Griffin nodded. The man stood a discreet distance from the door, back to the hut, eyes on the jungle.

“Are there still raiders in the area?” Addison glanced at the guard as she stepped inside the hut and he let the pelt fall across the door.

“I take no chances. Without guards, we would be prey waiting for a predator.”

“What happened…”

He took her arm, pulling her against him. She looked up at him in surprise “Enough talk.” His voice was rougher than he anticipated, and he took a breath.

“Addison…” There were no words to explain what he wanted, or how he felt, and he bent down, claiming her mouth with his. She stiffened in his arms for the briefest second, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. The kiss deepened as passion flooded through him. He let his hands explore her back, sliding down to cradle her ass, pulling her against his growing erection.

When they broke apart she looked up at him with a dazed look. “I missed this…missed you so much. But I knew I’d come back.”

“I would have searched the earth to find you.” He ran a hand over her hair, brushing it back, tangling his fingers in the strands. “You are my life. My world.” He met her eyes.

“I love you.”

She smiled up at him, a tear trailing down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb.

“I love you, Griffin.”

He got her out of her clothes, new clothes, cursing as he undid the fastenings. She laughed at his frustration, not offering to help him. Finally she stood before him, her body more beautiful than he’d remembered. She reached out, tugging his loincloth away from his body.

He lifted her gently, setting her on the pallet. She reached up for him and he lay beside her, cradling her body against his.

They kissed, softly, and he felt as if it were the first time he’d lain with any woman. Every sense was alive, every touch of her fingers on his skin left a trail of fire. Every kiss set him alight, and fanned the flame of desire inside him.

When he took her it was with a need he didn’t quite understand, a passion that startled him. She met him fully, taking him into her body, moving with him, her legs and arms wrapped around him. She came quickly, her body arching beneath him, body trembling.

It was equally wild and strangely gentle, and when he came, it was like stepping through a door into a new world. He lay panting afterwards, his face against her neck. Finally he rose, looking down at her.

“You smell different. What have you done?”

“I took a bath, days ago…your sense of smell amazes me. I’ll smell like myself again soon enough. There’s no bubble bath anywhere around here.”

“I don’t like it. I like your natural scent.”

She laughed, a beautiful sound. “You said you love me.” She brushed a hand along his cheek. “You’ve never said that before.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I should have said it before now.” He looked down at her. “I should have said it before I lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me. I’m back. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes prickled with tears, and rather than struggle to hold them back, he let them fall. Addison made a wordless sound, pulling him down to her. He laid his head on her shoulder, finding her scent beneath the strange artificial smell, breathing deeply.

She held him for a long time, until he was on the verge of sleep. Groggily he rolled onto his side, pulling her close. He felt her pull a pelt over them, and then snuggle against him.

For the first time in days he slept soundly, his arms around the woman he loved.

Chapter Nine

“Addison. Wake up.”

Griffin’s voice cut through the dream she was having, of running through the jungle, animals and men chasing her. She came away with a gasp.

“Grace?”

Griffin nodded. “The priest has questions for you.”

They walked to the hut where Grace lay. “What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

“Not that long. It’s only a few hours until sunset.”

Griffin held the pelt and she slipped into the hut. Even in the soft light she saw the dark circles beneath Grace’s eyes, the gaunt look of her face. She reached for Grace’s hand, but the priest shrieked and Joseph almost threw himself between her and her sister. Addison took a step back, bumping into Griffin.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! She’s my sister. I want to hold her hand.” She turned to Griffin. “Can’t I at least do that?”

The priest turned to Griffin, his sharp black eyes peering out from the multitude of wrinkles. He began muttering, voice rising, pointing at her. For the first time since she’d met him, she saw something like fear in Griffin’s eyes.

“He’s saying you’ll contaminate her.” Griffin looked from the priest to her, then back.

“I’m not sick. I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Not with sickness or disease. But with your energy. He’s done a ritual, aligned her energy…”

She threw up her hands. “Okay. Okay. I get it.” She ran a hand across her face, frustrated with men and being told what to do. But they were the men that stood between her and getting Grace well. Heaving a sigh, she backed away from the pallet.

“What does he need to know?”

As if sensing the change in her, the priest’s expression relaxed. This time his voice was softer and he looked at her as he spoke. Joseph translated, standing a respectful distance from both her and the priest.

“He asks what she was given. Before she came here.”

“In the hospital, I’m not sure.”

There was a brief conversation between the priest and the boy. The priest waved his hand, then spoke a rapid-fire string of words at the boy. He winced with each, as if they were barbed.

“He said your medicine is nothing to him. Whatever she was given in your world was worthless. He asks what was given to her from this world. He knows it came from here, but the energy it left behind is unbalanced.”

Addison stared at the priest. “She was given an orchid, a white orchid.” She turned to Griffin. “Can you tell him where you found it, what it’s called in your language?”

Griffin nodded. He spoke a rapid stream to the priest. The wizened man stared at Griffin, and then he smiled, his face folding into a thousand creases. He nodded, suddenly animated again, hopping from foot to foot. Joseph took another step away, eyes wide.

The priest spoke a rapid stream to Joseph, who grew more alarmed with each word. Finally the boy looked at Griffin, face pale, almost in tears.

“I’m to go with you into the jungle and find a second flower. He’s told me what it is…you heard him, didn’t you?” Griffin nodded and the boy continued. “We’re to bring him that and he will create the rest of the cure.”

Addison had listened to this exchange with growing anxiety. She placed her hand on Griffin’s arm. “Can you find this other flower? Does it grow around here?”

To her relief he smiled, nodding. “I can. And quite easily. The flower you needed is rare; the one the priest needs is not. I will take Joseph and return by nightfall.”

“And that’s it? That’s all?” Her voice broke as tears gathered in her eyes. “She’ll be cured?”

“He will make the medicine and yes, she will be cured.”

She let the tears fall unchecked. “It seems so simple. Can it really be that simple?”

“It can. I’ll leave now. Joseph, come with me.”

The boy walked on shaky legs past Addison and out of the hut. Griffin pulled Addison into his arms, kissing her softly. “I will be back, very quickly. I’ll carry Joseph if he slows me down.”

She smiled. “He’s just a boy. Why does he have to go with you?”

“He’s blessed. He will carry the flower.” His lips brushed her forehead, and then he turned. On impulse she grabbed his arm.

“Can you please ask the priest if I can sit with Grace? I want to stay.”

Griffin tensed, look over her head at the priest. The priest had retreated to a corner, chanting softly, shaking a rattle over a small bundle he’d set on the floor. Griffin spoke softly. The chanting sopped, but the rattling continued. Then he spoke, just a few words. But beneath her hand, she felt Griffin relax, some of the tension easing from his body.

“He said you can stay. You can sit beside her, but he doesn’t want you to touch her.” He touched her cheek softly. “I am sorry he cannot allow more.”

She nodded. “It’s fine. I think I understand.”

He kissed her again, quickly, and then he was gone. She turned, looking at Grace, anxiously watching the slow rise and fall, aching to touch her hand. The priest rose, walking toward her, a smoldering bundle of sticks in his hand. He began circling her, the smoke wafting around her, his quavering voice rising and falling. The cadence was soothing, calming, and she breathed in the pungent smoke. Gradually she relaxed, muscles unknotting, anxiety fading from her mind.

The errant thought drifted through her mind that this would be wonderful stuff back home. It made her giggle briefly, and she glanced at the priest. But instead of the stern look she expected, she was met with a smile.

He came to a stop in front of her, tilting his head to look up at her. “Sit.” He pointed to a small table next to the bed.

She was so startled at the English word she could only stand and stare. He took her hand, gently tugging her toward the pallet.

“Sit with her. You are blessed.” He nodded, and she sat.

“You speak English?” Sitting down, she was almost eye level with him. He nodded, smiling.

“Not much, not good. Not often.” He shrugged. “I like my own words, not outsider words.”

“I understand.”

“You are from the place that sends men here to dig in the earth.”

She nodded. “Yes. The Museum. You must have seen many of the expeditions in your life.”

“I saw your Merriam.” He drew he word out into three long syllables. “The man who took the white flower.”

Addison stared at the man. “You met him? Merriam?”

“He came, took many plants. Wanted to know how they healed sickness. I told him. But I did not tell him everything.” The man looked down at Grace. “I told him enough to make him go away. If the cure did not work, then they would think they made it wrong. They would never come back to ask again. Made them leave. Leave us alone.”

“I found his notes, what you told him, about the white flower.”

“And it did not work.” His expression grew sad, and he looked at Addison. “Now I wish I had told him everything. She would not be sick.”

Addison set a hand on the old man’s arm. “It’s not your fault.”

There was no shrieking or pulling away this time. He only looked down at her hand, then reached out and covered it with his. “She will be cured of this sickness. But she will never be whole. The sickness has been in her too long; it will leave a shadow on her. Always.”

He patted her hand and then turned, settling back into his corner, chanting softly. Addison watched him for a moment and then looked back at Grace. She reached out, taking the small, delicate hand, curling the fingers around hers, watching the slow breaths her sister took.

The room grew warm, very warm, and she grew sleepy. Grace was getting better, and she should rest, but just for a minute. Gently, so she didn’t wake Grace, she lay her head next to her twin, closing her eyes.

Chapter Ten

Someone was lifting her, pulling her away from Grace. She tried to push them away, but it was like pushing a wall. Her feet came off the ground and she had the wild thought she was on the plane with Daniel, flying home from Peru.

“No. I can stay. He said I can stay.”

She forced her eyes open. Griffin held her in his arms, cradling her against his chest.

“You’re back?”

“I am. The priest needs to make the cure and tend to Grace. You need to sleep.”

He carried her out of the hut and across the clearing. Overhead was what seemed like thousands of stars, glittering against the black velvet of the sky. They were beautiful, the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. It was almost too beautiful to stand, and she closed her eyes.

She was being laid on a pallet, soft pelts around her, and she curled into them, letting them pull her into their warmth. There was movement and then solid, familiar arms were around her, pulling her against a warm body. Griffin held her, and she let sleep take her.

She was safe.

* * *

Griffin watched Addison sleep. Whatever the priest had used to induce sleep in Grace had worked just as well on Addison, sending her into a deep sleep. He smiled; the priest had his ways of healing even those who resisted healing.

The priest had given Grace the second tincture, completing the treatment. Griffin had spoken with him, learning the girl was doing well. She was still very ill, but she hadn’t gotten any worse. The priest, surprisingly, was in very high spirits. Griffin had never seen him quite as animated, and he’d certainly never seen the ancient little man smile.

Addison stirred and he lay back as she rolled on to her side, her hand sliding across his chest. He’d been awake for a long time, watching her sleep. His body ached for her, their lovemaking earlier barely slaking his thirst. If they were together for eternity, he didn’t think he could ever have his fill of Addison.

In her sleep her fingers briefly tensed against his skin, then relaxed, and she moved closer, drawing one leg up, her soft thigh sliding over her, brushing against his growing erection. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, resisting the urge to flex his hips against her, to prolong the contact. It would be best to let her wake on her own, but that resolve quickly gave way as she moved again, the warm friction of her skin driving him mildly insane.

Gently he reached down, caressing the back of her leg, sliding his hand up the gentle curve of her ass. He moved his hand lower, slipping between her legs, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of her inner thigh. As many times now as he’d lain between those legs, he still marveled at their silken smoothness, her skin pale and creamy, softly washed with pink. She was a rare flower, the white orchid of his dreams, exotic and alluring, and now safely in his bed, and in his arms.

She murmured something indistinct against his shoulder, nuzzling her face against him. Her leg slid higher, opening her further to his explorations. The movement made him harder, and a moan escaped him as his hips rose of their own accord, pressing himself against her giving flesh.

Wordlessly she lifted her face to his, her mouth seeking his mouth as she rose to kiss him. Her full breasts, fuller now since his child grew inside her, brushed first against his arm, and then across his chest. As her tongue flicked over his lips, then slid between them, his fingers clutched involuntarily against her, sinking into skin of her leg.

Her tongue played over his mouth before slipping between his lips, the tip teasing his briefly before her teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging not so gently. She released him, but only for a second before she captured his mouth again with hers.

She was aggressive, in a way she’d never been before, in a way he found overwhelmingly arousing. She’d grown stronger since being in the jungle, her curves still full, but she was sleeker now, and he sensed she delighted in testing him.

He let her take the lead as the kiss deepened. She rose over him until her hips straddled his, and her breasts were pressed hard against his chest. They were full and firm, but the skin over them was like the softest breeze. She’d told him how aroused she became when he touched them, and now he moved his hands up over her hips, fingers spanning her narrow waist, then running up her torso.

She broke the kiss, rising up on her hands, finally meeting his eyes. He saw in hers the fire he felt inside, and as he gazed up at her, he brought his hands up, cupping her breasts. They filled his hands and he weighed them, the heaviness of them enticing and seductive. Glancing down at them cradled in his hands he saw her darkening nipples were already hard.

Tensing his fingers, he gently pulled her forward. She came willingly and he lifted his head, flicking his tongue over her nipple. A shiver ran through her and her legs tightened against his hips. As if on command his erection stiffened, rising up against the heat between her legs. That could wait, at least for a moment. He wanted to feast on her breasts, lick and suck them until she was as heated as he was. And then he would take her.

He pressed his lips against her breast, pulling the nipple into his mouth, his tongue moving over her hot skin. She moaned, a sound as deep and primal as any shifter ever made. His hips rose again, and in response she rocked her hips forward, skimming over his heated erection. She was more than ready for him, her heat palpable. Then she arched her back, pulling away, leaving him aching for more.

Two could play this game and he pulled harder on her breast, taking more of it into his mouth, grazing her nipple with his teeth. The yelp he got in response made him smile and he pulled away, coming back to lick the puckered nipple with quick flicks of his tongue.

The other breast taunted him and he turned his head, licking the smooth skin, kissing his way over the round surface, lips brushing against that rigid nipple. Suddenly he couldn’t get enough of her and he sucked hard, almost greedily, her breast filling his mouth.

She’d wound her fingers into his hair, tensing them, then letting them relax. Her body moved, her back arching and rounding, touching his erection, pulling away, repeating this torture over and over.

Slowly she shifted, spreading her legs wider, lowering her body onto his. He felt her reach between them, her soft hand closing around him, lifting him upright, guiding him into her body. He slid into her, her hand still holding him, and he was a lost man. He gasped, pulling away from her breast, completely at her mercy.

With a soft cry she sat back, eyes closed, sinking onto him, taking him into her. For a moment she rested her weight on him, enveloping him, and he willingly let her take control, let her set the pace, the rhythm.

Finally she lowered her head, eyes open, looking directly into his eyes, into his soul.  Then she began to move, slowly at first, rising up, settling back, taking him into her body, holding him.

He put his hands on her hips, fingers flexing against her. The soft mound made by the child inside of her rested between her hips and he passed a hand over it. She looked at him and smiled.

Dropping forward she rested her hands on his chest, the muscles of her legs moving against his hips as she rose and settled, over and over, faster, harder. He grunted with each movement she made, his noises blending with her moans, both growing louder with each thrust.

Her fingers again tensed against his chest, but this time they did not relax. Her nails dug into him, the brief, sharp pain lost in the swirling sensations her lush body created in him.

They moved together in that ancient primal dance that joined them, not only in body but in soul. She held him and made him whole, and he filled her and made her complete.

She’d taken him to the edge before, but this time he was powerless, under her spell, and she deftly brought him to that same edge over and over, easing off, slowing down, moving in ways he’d never imagined a woman could move. He wanted release, but he wanted more, to be tormented again and again by the woman he loved. She was his master and he her willing slave.

And then she was riding him hard, relentlessly, taking her own pleasure while giving him his. He watched in awe as she sat back, arms stretched wide, a goddess sent to him. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he’d died and gone to the beyond, but the fire inside him was too human to be immortal.

He slipped a hand down between them, brushing against her, against the hard shaft of his erection. For a moment she shuddered, and he pressed harder, finding the hidden place again, fingers slipping back and forth.

The shudder grew stronger, becoming a violent trembling, her body rising and falling on strong thighs, her cries growing louder. His body responded to hers, his hips taking on a life of their own, thrusting upward hard, driving himself deeper into her.

With a cry that bespoke of pain as well as pleasure his seed filled her, his cock pulsing and throbbing, the fingers of one hand buried in the flesh of her hip, the other pulling and rubbing the bud between her legs.

She responded to him instantly, her body stiffening, back arching, muscles tensed and straining. For a moment she was still, eyes closed, breath held, mouth open in a silent cry.

Then she fell forward, body jerking and writhing against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she shook and cried, face buried against his shoulder. There was heat and wetness flooding over him. He could feel her, could feel her around him, pulling him deeper, rhythmic contractions around him as his thrusts into her gradually slowed.

He held her for a long, long time, until she’d stopped trembling, until her breathing slowed to normal. Gently he rolled her onto the pallet, resting on one elbow to look down at her.

“Welcome home, Addison.”

She traced a line along his cheek, smiled, and closed her eyes. “I never thought I’d be here again. I don’t want this to end. If it’s a dream, don’t wake me, okay?”

He bent forward, kissing her softly. “It will never end. We are together, and nothing will ever come between us. I swear on my life.”