He let her control the pace, and she kept it slow, just lips at first. But then she could not resist, and she reached out to stroke her palm over his arm, long slow caresses.
He reached out for her and did the same, following her lead. Her palms tingled as she ran them over his bruised and battered body. She opened her eyes, to see if maybe the tingle had something to do with the golden sparkles, but it was just her and him under the warmth of the blanket, to her relief. Somehow, it meant more that way.
Her aches melted under his touch, and her bruises seemed to fade, Amyu knew well enough that when they woke, they’d hurt. But for now, there was rich slow pleasure between the two of them.
Joden’s hands felt as warm as hers, and far more skilled. She arched her back against them as he teased her breasts with his breath, and her nipples with tongue and teeth.
Her hands were not idle. She reached for him, stroking his length with her palm.
His own fingers dipped lower, and when he felt her heat, he pulled her on top as he rolled to his back. The blanket fell back, exposing her heated back to the cooler air.
Those wonderful hands cupped her buttocks, spreading her out. But then he paused, hesitating.
Amyu looked down into his worried eyes. “Joden,” she pleaded.
“F-f-foalsbane,” he managed. “I-I-I haven’t—”
She laughed, but it was more a groan of pure frustration. “I have never borne, Joden.
Never once conceived.”
Still he held her, poised above—
She took matters into her own hands, then arched down to demand her own pleasure.
Joden relented, met her stroke for stroke, but the control was hers, the delight was hers, the pinnacle was…
The peak hit, and she threw back her head, crying out at the joy. She rode out the waves, rocking back and forth until Joden’s cry of delight joined hers.
They melted together, Joden pulling the blankets up as she rested her head on his chest.
“… probably made enough noise to scare off any predators,” she whispered in Joden’s ear.
Joden’s chuckle rumbled through her as she faded off to sleep.
Amyu found aclear running stream early, so water was no problem. Food was a different issue.
She talked with Joden, about whether taking the time to hunt versus getting off the mountain as soon as possible. His words were broken, but his thoughts were clear and he understood their predicament. He stumbled and used more gestures than words. In the end, they agreed to choose speed, with care on the paths. It seemed the right choice, except when their stomachs rumbled.
But the water ran crisp and clear and they could drink as much as they pleased. Joden’s makeshift shoes fell apart over the next day, but Amyu didn’t think it a bad thing. It forced him to step with care, to slow down. She feared another fall more than hunger.
He seemed to feel the blame for their predicament and the slowness of the pace. It was in his eyes, sometimes as he hesitated on the path. Or the way he looked away when he heard her stomach rumble. But he made up for it in the nights.
As they reached the lower levels, the path got easier and wider. Amyu had cause to regret the end.
It had been so long since she’d shared, she’d forgotten the pleasures of the flesh. But there was something about Joden, something about the care he took with her. He made her feel… alive.
She would treasure each and every one of the nights they’d spent together. Joden was a respected and powerful warrior of the Plains. A Singer-to-be. He’d not—
Amyu stopped. The wind had brought a scent to her, achingly familiar. “Is that kavage?” she asked, taking a deeper breath.
Joden nodded.
They both hurried down the path, Joden right behind her, stumbling out into the field where the cows were grazing. Amyu could see the cheese cave, and a campfire with an old battered kavage pot, a group of Plains warriors gathered around. The smell of kavage grew stronger.
“Amyu!” came the shout, and Rafe of the Wolf headed toward her, with a wide smile. “The Warprize sent us to find—” he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide.
“Joden?”
