She had bathed, washed her hair, rubbing scented oils into her skin and her hair. That special blend that was just for her. Dressing in a vest that barely contained what it was supposed to contain, a new skirt that was perhaps slit a little farther up the sides than what she wore and soft, worn boots, she was ready.
When she had stepped out of the wagon, not only did kasra's jaw drop, but Rook chuckled and gave a low whistle, causing her cheeks to color. She asked if it was too much, and he assured her that it was just perfect. Mounting Ciegue, she rode out to the herd where Ba'atar would soon be finishing his patrol. As she approached, she noticed that a couple of his men had taken second and third looks at her, which made her cheeks flame again. She just hoped that he had the same reaction. She was not disappointed.
She came upon him staring up at the stars with one of his men. Some sort of wager as to whose star would move first. In the light from the tre-moons, she did not miss how he looked at her. Was that pride she saw in his eyes? Perhaps tinged with a bit of lust and longing? She asked him if he could leave his wager long enough to take a ride with his woman, and she did not have to ask twice.
Transferring the bags that held the makings of a meal to the back of his saddle, she nudged his foot out of the stirrup, slipped hers' into it, and swung into the saddle behind him, sliding her arms around him, fingers playing along that strip of flesh between the bottom of his vest and the waist of his leathers. Pressing her body into that strong, broad back, she leaned to whisper directions into his ear, her hot breath caressing with her words.
As they rode, she felt his hand drop to caress along the length of her bare thigh, each stroke causing her to press her breasts harder into his back, and she answered the strokes by kisses and nips along his neck and ear. He cursed her, telling that it was unfair for her to tease him so, and she whispered to him, what made him think she was teasing?
As they rode down into the small valley, her hands slipped lower, palm flattening along the ridge in his leathers that grew harder with each passing moment. It was a low, husky voice that whispered her intentions into his ear. A voice that told him that she wanted him, and on this night, she intended to give herself to him, and to take from him all he could give. It was like adding new fuel to a fire. Bringing the kaiila up to a stop, he threw his leg over the neck of the animal, dropped to the ground and pulled her with him into his arms, all the time taking her lips with his with passionate, hungry kisses.
Carrying her, he stumbled into the water, set her down, and hands tore at her vest, freeing her beast, his searching, hot mouth finding a nipple, teasing it into a taut, turgid state. Her own hands fought to free him of his vest, tossing it away as she ran her nails over his flesh, her head leaned back, her beautiful face turned up towards the skies as she moaned softly her need of him. Stripping her skirt up, he managed to unlace his leathers to free himself and took her right there on the bank of the stream, half in, and half out of the water.
Rolling over, he drew her to on top of him, his hands guiding her hips to ride him, and she did. Her hands move to strip the skirt off, and she leans over him her hands going to the ground beside his head for purchase, her hips moving on him in a heated fashion that let him know that she needed and wanted him as badly as he did her. There was no tenderness, no finesse, only the fierce, animal coupling of two beasts that were trying to sate some inner fire that just continued to consume them. Growls and cries mingled with the noise of bodies slapping together, faster and faster. With an animal growl, he grasped her hips to hold her tightly against him as he released his precious seed into her. His growl was met with one from between her lips as she raced to her own release.
Panting, perspiration dripping from her brow, her entire body shook as she looked down into his eyes. And that was when he said the most unexpected thing. You are beautiful, you are perfect and you complete who I am. Tears mingled with the perspiration as she leaned down, stretching her form along his, losing herself in slick, slide of sex moistened flesh. Swollen lips search for his, only to be met by his own searching mouth, needing to taste her fully.
How long they lay there, does not matter. All that matters is that his strong, calloused fingers worked along her back, stroking, taking in every hort of her, until he began to swell again. Laughing, she rolled off of him and stumbled up to the furs, falling down and turning over on her back, thighs spread in an inviting manner, as her finger crooked to motion him closer. The finger crook was not needed. He had already shed his boots, his leathers, and dropped to his knees between her legs, his hand lowers to tease, torment and titillate her into loud moans of unbridled, heated pleasure.
Bringing himself up above her, he looks into her eyes, to catch that expression that he has come to love, when he plunged deep inside her. He was relentless in his deep exploration of what was rightfully his, and she responded in kind, back arching, hands moving to his chest, nails sinking into flesh until droplets of blood showed in the small crescent wounds. Her head lifts, the tip of her tongue snaking out to lap at the coppery taste. One strong hand whips out, to grasp her braid, tilting her head back, exposing her long, slender neck to the assault of his mouth, but never once did he cease his assault on her. Instead he brought them to that place again of mutual, shuddering release.
Finally, he collapses down beside her on the furs, sliding his arm beneath her head, drawing her closer. Her head turns and she places soft, gentle kisses to his shoulder, tasting that salty sweat that covered his flesh. No apologies were made, because they had both found what they had been seeking. Turning to his side, he lifts her leg to drape over his hip, and his arm goes out, hand moving along her lower back to pull her up against him. They lay there, the cool night wind caressing over their bodies, causing her to shiver slightly and move in as it she wished to crawl into his skin. Laying this way, they spoke in whispers as hands stroked and explored.
When next they coupled, it was different. Slower, more sensual movements, tender touches, whispered words of love, moans of contentment. Not as rushed, nor did it border on the almost violent as the first two times did. The orgasm was actually sweet in it's nature, fulfilling, loving. Something that joined them together as one.
Laying there, beneath the stars, they slept until the first rays of the dawn woke them. Her breast were swollen, painful, and she nudges him awake to tell him they must go, for Also would be wanting his morning meal. Her body told her this, just as well as one of those time pieces that dwellers used told them. He groaned, and tried to pull her back down, telling her that he would relieve her pain, but she laughed and told him that if he did, his son would starve.
Reluctantly, they dressed, making promised to each other to fine time for themselves more often. Riding back to the wagons, he had sit her across his thighs, holding her with one arm, her head resting on his shoulder, nuzzled into his neck. Rook was just stepping out of his wagon when they returned and chuckled seeing them.
When Ba'atar sat her gently to the ground, he looked over to Rook and grinned that damnable grin of his and said...... We have been working on my next son.
When she had stepped out of the wagon, not only did kasra's jaw drop, but Rook chuckled and gave a low whistle, causing her cheeks to color. She asked if it was too much, and he assured her that it was just perfect. Mounting Ciegue, she rode out to the herd where Ba'atar would soon be finishing his patrol. As she approached, she noticed that a couple of his men had taken second and third looks at her, which made her cheeks flame again. She just hoped that he had the same reaction. She was not disappointed.
She came upon him staring up at the stars with one of his men. Some sort of wager as to whose star would move first. In the light from the tre-moons, she did not miss how he looked at her. Was that pride she saw in his eyes? Perhaps tinged with a bit of lust and longing? She asked him if he could leave his wager long enough to take a ride with his woman, and she did not have to ask twice.
Transferring the bags that held the makings of a meal to the back of his saddle, she nudged his foot out of the stirrup, slipped hers' into it, and swung into the saddle behind him, sliding her arms around him, fingers playing along that strip of flesh between the bottom of his vest and the waist of his leathers. Pressing her body into that strong, broad back, she leaned to whisper directions into his ear, her hot breath caressing with her words.
As they rode, she felt his hand drop to caress along the length of her bare thigh, each stroke causing her to press her breasts harder into his back, and she answered the strokes by kisses and nips along his neck and ear. He cursed her, telling that it was unfair for her to tease him so, and she whispered to him, what made him think she was teasing?
As they rode down into the small valley, her hands slipped lower, palm flattening along the ridge in his leathers that grew harder with each passing moment. It was a low, husky voice that whispered her intentions into his ear. A voice that told him that she wanted him, and on this night, she intended to give herself to him, and to take from him all he could give. It was like adding new fuel to a fire. Bringing the kaiila up to a stop, he threw his leg over the neck of the animal, dropped to the ground and pulled her with him into his arms, all the time taking her lips with his with passionate, hungry kisses.
Carrying her, he stumbled into the water, set her down, and hands tore at her vest, freeing her beast, his searching, hot mouth finding a nipple, teasing it into a taut, turgid state. Her own hands fought to free him of his vest, tossing it away as she ran her nails over his flesh, her head leaned back, her beautiful face turned up towards the skies as she moaned softly her need of him. Stripping her skirt up, he managed to unlace his leathers to free himself and took her right there on the bank of the stream, half in, and half out of the water.
Rolling over, he drew her to on top of him, his hands guiding her hips to ride him, and she did. Her hands move to strip the skirt off, and she leans over him her hands going to the ground beside his head for purchase, her hips moving on him in a heated fashion that let him know that she needed and wanted him as badly as he did her. There was no tenderness, no finesse, only the fierce, animal coupling of two beasts that were trying to sate some inner fire that just continued to consume them. Growls and cries mingled with the noise of bodies slapping together, faster and faster. With an animal growl, he grasped her hips to hold her tightly against him as he released his precious seed into her. His growl was met with one from between her lips as she raced to her own release.
Panting, perspiration dripping from her brow, her entire body shook as she looked down into his eyes. And that was when he said the most unexpected thing. You are beautiful, you are perfect and you complete who I am. Tears mingled with the perspiration as she leaned down, stretching her form along his, losing herself in slick, slide of sex moistened flesh. Swollen lips search for his, only to be met by his own searching mouth, needing to taste her fully.
How long they lay there, does not matter. All that matters is that his strong, calloused fingers worked along her back, stroking, taking in every hort of her, until he began to swell again. Laughing, she rolled off of him and stumbled up to the furs, falling down and turning over on her back, thighs spread in an inviting manner, as her finger crooked to motion him closer. The finger crook was not needed. He had already shed his boots, his leathers, and dropped to his knees between her legs, his hand lowers to tease, torment and titillate her into loud moans of unbridled, heated pleasure.
Bringing himself up above her, he looks into her eyes, to catch that expression that he has come to love, when he plunged deep inside her. He was relentless in his deep exploration of what was rightfully his, and she responded in kind, back arching, hands moving to his chest, nails sinking into flesh until droplets of blood showed in the small crescent wounds. Her head lifts, the tip of her tongue snaking out to lap at the coppery taste. One strong hand whips out, to grasp her braid, tilting her head back, exposing her long, slender neck to the assault of his mouth, but never once did he cease his assault on her. Instead he brought them to that place again of mutual, shuddering release.
Finally, he collapses down beside her on the furs, sliding his arm beneath her head, drawing her closer. Her head turns and she places soft, gentle kisses to his shoulder, tasting that salty sweat that covered his flesh. No apologies were made, because they had both found what they had been seeking. Turning to his side, he lifts her leg to drape over his hip, and his arm goes out, hand moving along her lower back to pull her up against him. They lay there, the cool night wind caressing over their bodies, causing her to shiver slightly and move in as it she wished to crawl into his skin. Laying this way, they spoke in whispers as hands stroked and explored.
When next they coupled, it was different. Slower, more sensual movements, tender touches, whispered words of love, moans of contentment. Not as rushed, nor did it border on the almost violent as the first two times did. The orgasm was actually sweet in it's nature, fulfilling, loving. Something that joined them together as one.
Laying there, beneath the stars, they slept until the first rays of the dawn woke them. Her breast were swollen, painful, and she nudges him awake to tell him they must go, for Also would be wanting his morning meal. Her body told her this, just as well as one of those time pieces that dwellers used told them. He groaned, and tried to pull her back down, telling her that he would relieve her pain, but she laughed and told him that if he did, his son would starve.
Reluctantly, they dressed, making promised to each other to fine time for themselves more often. Riding back to the wagons, he had sit her across his thighs, holding her with one arm, her head resting on his shoulder, nuzzled into his neck. Rook was just stepping out of his wagon when they returned and chuckled seeing them.
When Ba'atar sat her gently to the ground, he looked over to Rook and grinned that damnable grin of his and said...... We have been working on my next son.
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