The ride through the fields and valleys passed in a blur. She felt the heart-wrenching pain as they moved deeper inland, away from the sight, sound, and smell of the sea. The dark cloak of night fell around them, and she hid her face against his chest, letting tears of loss flow freely.
He felt her tears dampen his shirt, and not certain of the cause, let her be. As the darkness fell, a cool, loamy waft of air rose from the ground, creating small tendrils of fog. She shivered, more from the strange scents, but unknowing the reason, he wrapped his arm around her tighter. The horse walked on, until they reached the edge of the forest.
Her head raised at last, as she tried to see beyond the ears of their mount.
“Time to get down, give Equus a rest. Best not to travel in the forest in full dark—hard to see low branches, easy to get lost.” He moved away from her in the darkness, tending to the beast, and she stood, arms wrapped around herself, already feeling lost enough.
Done with caring for the horse, he took her hand, drew her to a cluster of large boulders. An overhanging pine gave some shelter, as he spread a blanket on the ground. Pulling her down, he sat behind her, digging in the satchel for food, before passing it to her. She didn’t move. Her but-tocks ached, her back ached, and it felt as though the ground moved under her.
“Saddle-sore. I’ll help work out the kinks after we eat.” He gestured for her to find food, and reluctantly, she pulled out something, ate it slowly. He finished, quaffed some water, offered her the skin. She pulled away, repelled by the scent of the thing.
“Look, girl, I know they coddled you some, but I am not going to. Get over yourself, drink some water or I’ll pour it down your throat. Need to keep moist or you’ll keel over on me. Don’t have time for that.”
“Gee, thanks for caring,” she thought, scowling furiously at him. As if she were an encumbrance. How she wished she had her voice. She’d give him an earful, alright. He turned away from her, and in the light of the stars and slivered moon, she could see his firm but-tocks, and remembered again the first time she saw them, bare. Of the sack of balls that had slapped at the females…no. She wasn’t going to think about that any more. A sharp, acrid tang came to her nose, just as her ears heard the sound of spurting splashes. He didn’t even have the decency to move away from her before voiding his piss? She shook her head, which he saw as he turned back, striding to the other side of their makeshift camp, before pissing there as well.
“The piss keeps other animals away,” he said, catching her expression as he tucked his cock away, and sat beside her. “Like I said, get over yourself. Now, roll over. Onto your belly.”
She stared at him.
“NOW.” The tone was implacable, and she found herself sliding down, rolling over before she could stop herself. Damn him!
Large, warm, strong hands began kneading her left shoulder, then her right. Working down her back, she might have protested the roughness of the touch, if he wasn’t hitting all the exactly right spots…it hurt and felt delicious at the same time.
His hands kneaded down her body, and he tried not to notice the warm scent of her, the relaxing posture, the swell of her delightful bottom. His cock paid no attention to his silent command to ignore her, instead growing quickly to a hard, throbbing state. Hands working over the curves of her ass, he felt those muscles tense as his hands touched, then relax as he smoothed out the ache of hours of riding. His hands kneaded over, around the soft mounds, then slid down to her upper thigh. His fingers brushed between those thighs, and he felt her tremble.
And smelled the unmistakable scent of aroused woman-flesh.
He was not the King’s spawn, to be sure. But he was only human, after all. His fingers massaged the cleft between, and she surprised them both by pressing back against his rubbing fingers.
He turned her over, and she lifted her shift, exposing her pale legs, and the enchanting vee where shadows played. He lay beside her, touching her, fingers slippery with her lust-juices, roaming up and down that delightful valley.
Insensate with sensations, she arched up, begging for his finger to find the spot hers had journeyed not long ago. He didn’t disappoint. She would have whimpered, had the Sea Witch not taken her voice. She wanted…something. That shiver of sensation, that rise of her body, the swirl that reminded her of a whirlpool back at her father’s kingdom. His fingers rose and plunged, taking her up, even as she ground down on him.
And then he took them away.
Her breath caught in her throat as she grasped blindly for him. Yet in moments his warmth covered her, his knee nudging her legs farther apart. She became aware of his hand fumbling with his clothing in the darkness, and a burning need between her thighs. “Hurry,” she thought, still not entirely certain that she knew exactly what he needed to hurry for.
The horse whinnied, stamping his front feet, tossing his head and setting his harness to jingling.
“Fuck,” he whispered, jumping up. He drew a blade from the front of the rucksack he’d carried, and pulled his woodsman’s axe from a holder on the horses saddle. She shivered in the dark. He looked formidable. Glancing down at her, he spoke, quietly, but firmly.
He returned to the campsite after a brief scuffle with a lone wolf. It was old, and its heart wasn’t really in the battle, more testing. Luke knew more about wolves than most men, and chose to not kill the beast. All part of the circle, he knew. Still, he didn’t want the thing coming up on them whilst they slept, so he chased it a goodly distance from their camp. He’d startled up a small herd of deer, and the old hunter had decided to chase that quarry instead. He’d waited until the sounds of crashing and yipping had died off in the distance, before turning, heading back to camp. He’d expected to find her, curled up and fearful, and smiled thinking of his ‘warriors reward’.
She was curled up.
With a sigh, he put the weapons close to hand, gathered her close, and rolled them up in the sleeping cloth. He fell asleep with his hand curled around a bounteous breast.
He rose early, and broke camp after draining his bladder, and tending the horse. He woke her by toeing her gently in her belly. The temptation to fall on her and finish what was started last night weighed on him for longer than he liked, and knowing that touching her would cause him to throw caution to the wind, he was brusque in bidding her to rise, and pee, and get on with helping.
It wasn’t long before they were done, not even waiting for breaking their fast. He preferred to ride, hoping to be home before midday. Her belly growled, but he ignored it, curling his arm around her waist as she settled on the horse, seated in front of him. Her round tush pressed against his cock, reminding him that he’d not had a good fuck in quite some time. But he’d promised her “uncles” to take care of her, and mounting her like an animal in rut was something he could well avoid.
He avoided it by pretending she wasn’t there.
He was a quiet man by nature, and she didn’t mind the silence all that much. She cast a few glances at his hands, remembering the feel of them in her secret places, and wondering what would have happened had the wolf not come crying in the night. She supposed she’d have been just like the female on the beach, wrapping herself around him and taking his sword deep into her belly.
There was an ache there, between her legs. It made her irritable. She wanted. Damn the wolf. Damn the man. Damn falling asleep!
He watched the expressions on her face. She was mad about something. Because he’d taken liberties with her cunt, he supposed. Fae, but women were so hard to figure out. Fucking a woman should be easier, yet it never was. The woman he’d seen each time he’d gone to visit Mudge and Trey had fucked with him each time he showed up at her door, but of late had taken to making demands. She worked hard, she’d said, needed a man to take care of. She wanted him to leave the woods, come to stay with her. He’d broken away from her with no regret. He wanted no part of city life. He much preferred the rhythm of the seasons, the call of the great owl in the dusk, the running of squirrels, the scent of water over a mossy falls. No, city life was not for the likes of him.
He did what he thought best about her pique. He ignored her. It seemed to have worked thus far with the wench.
After riding for an hour or more, she tapped his hand. He ignored that, too. She poked his hand, and he pretended she hadn’t. After not getting any response, she went from frustrated to aggravated, to simply irate. Bending down, she bit him on the hand.
“FAE!! What the fuck!”
She turned and smiled up at him beatifically, then scowled.
Women! Drawing the horse to a halt, he all but pushed her from his lap, watching her land on the ground with an audible thud, before dismounting himself. Might as well try to figure out what was on the girls mind.
He wasn’t looking forward to it.