Clans of Luteri Bk. 02 Ch. 05-07

She was staring at him, not understanding. He stepped closer to her, the back of his fingers going to her cheek. She leaned into him as he bent, kissing her. It was slow and deep, sensual, her belly tensing, her nipples tightening. By the time he was done, her cheeks were warm again and she was breathing faster.

He leaned back, looking at her steadily.

She suddenly knew what he meant. She was shocked, and then she remembered all their talk, and then she remembered looking at them. But a woman—. She realized, and felt the blush begin in her cheeks and radiate outward. And she had felt warm, yes, excited, a little...when they talked about it, and—. She swallowed.

"I didn't know, Kane."

His amusement vanished and she felt his regret.

"I was teasing you, Aslin, and I shouldn't have. They would never do anything to endanger your bond. They were women to whom men of their clan have given their oath?"

She looked down, nodding, feeling stupid and ignorant. He raised her chin and now his regret was much deeper.

"That is who usually instructs the younger. The women of your clan know you've been shamed and they see it and they want to help you and I just undid their efforts. You didn't do anything to feel badly for and neither did they. It sounds like they were gentle with you, telling you things about yourself and your body like they would any young woman of their clan who didn't know those things yet."

She glanced at him quickly and away.

"Yes," she said low, feeling a little better.

"Then it's not my business. But I would like to see what you have done. And feel it," he said.

She smiled a little.

"It's supposed to—," she gestured, "increase what you can feel in the area."

"Is that right?" he said softly, stepping closer, his hand coming down her back and to her bottom.

She dropped her eyes, looking at him again. She smiled a little more.

"And they have special cloths, for...after," she said, smiling wider.

"That's sensible," he said.

She bit her lip, hesitating. She leaned forward a little.

"They showed me how to—," she said, gesturing again, "myself."

"What?"

"That," she said, her voice going lower.

Kane looked around, grinning.

"We're alone, Aslin."

Her chin lifted.

"They showed me how to do that to myself, although I haven't done that yet and I'm not sure I will ever do that."

"Again, the word 'that' is a very general descriptive term—," he began.

"Touch myself," she said, and then blushed.

He was staring at her and she felt his astonishment.

"Have you never pleasured yourself, Aslin?"

She reacting to his surprise. She frowned at him and then spoke a little defiantly.

"Miss Stram discovered me once without my shirt when I first began to get breasts and she switched me very badly for it and then she tied my hands to the rails of my bed for a week when I went to sleep so that when I was in bed I wouldn't be tempted to touch myself inappropriately. She was very clear I wasn't to do that, not ever. She said that it was evil and would lead to sickness and everyone would know I had done it, but Lorita says she lied and it's not true."

Kane was feeling so many things that she sensed, mostly outrage and disgusted puzzlement.

"Do Alverians do this to the boys as well, Aslin? Tie them to beds so they can't touch their own bodies?"

"How would I possibly know the answer to that, Kane?" she said.

They stared at each other.

"I'll ask Jaime," Kane said.

Aslin scoffed.

"Jaime is Alverian, Kane," she said. "I doubt he would want to talk about it with you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not something Alverians talk about."

And there was the circle. Kane had fallen headfirst into the Alverian maze of talking about sex. Yes, that made no sense whatsoever.

"That doesn't follow any logic, Aslin. How do you know Jaime doesn't want to talk about sex if sex is something you don't talk about?"

She stared at him. He tried again more slowly.

"How did someone tell you enough about sex for you to understand what they meant when they told you not to talk about sex but without telling you about it first because they couldn't speak of it either?"

She shook her head.

"I'm not Alverian," she protested.

"No, but you understand their logic," he accused.

"It doesn't mean I have to agree," she said. "I'm Luterian."

He stared at her blankly and then pulled her close, putting his arms around her.

"You're right,' he said, his chin on the top of her head. "I am arguing with the wrong person."

"I think you miss Jaime."

He drew back.

"I do. But I missed you more, gone for a whole week. So let me ask you. Do you want to go straight to Tavishi or would you agree to stay out here with me for a few days, just the two of us? I know it's getting cold, but I have things for camping and provisions on Shaol. I promise you will be comfortable enough."

Stay in the wilderness with him just to do so? Aslin was immediately interested. Like in books?

"I would like that very much," she said, excited.

He smiled, feeling her response, pleased by it.

"I have never been to the Tavishi territory north of here, nor has my father. Our northern territories, Corsaire and Tavishi, are too close there, too exposed, bordering on Duellan land above us. I imagine neither Corsaire nor Tavishi have gone there for hundreds of years. But you and I are not enemies, Aslin. We are protected by oath and bond. We can go there. We will see territory no Luterian has seen since the feud began over three hundred years ago."

She could feel his curiosity.

"What do you think will be there?"

"There is a place I want to take you. We would go a little east and then north, camp whenever we want, and reach it the next day."

"What place?"

"I want to surprise you."

"All right," she said.

He grinned back and kissed her, happy.

"Thank you, Aslin."

As they rode, the wind was cold, autumn yielding the last leaves, but when she pulled up the hood of her cloak, she was warm, the wool cloak enveloping her. They rode for a couple of hours, tall trees, going on the edge, at one point, of a tall mountain, the drop to her right.

"Are you well, Aslin?" he called from in front of her, looking back.

"Yes."

Ilian was surefooted and heights had never scared her. Kane stopped them not long after, pulling things off of Shaol. He gave the horses grain as she explored the area.

Ilian gave a short call, nasal. Shaol joined her, the same sound, his head up. Kane froze, looking at her.

"What is it?" Aslin said.

"Snake. Come here, Corsaire," Kane said.

The horses broke their stillness and began ranging the area, Kane pulling her next to him. They watched Shaol and Ilian eagerly search the rocks and shrubby bushes, and then Ilian's ears came back, her eyes lit with rage, and she struck with her front hooves, missing when one hoof slid across the surface of a rock, the metal edge scraping, the snake breaking cover to rush away, as large around as Aslin's wrist. She pressed closer to Kane, trying to get higher, and he laughed, his arm coming around her from behind.

Shaol saw it, immediately coming over, the snake missing its strike, stomping on it, short angry cries. When he was done, both horses stood over the mess and looked at it, their heads close, Shaol snorting, Ilian's tail swishing. Aslin smiled to see them, stepping off of Kane's large boots.

"They are in agreement," she observed.

"The snakes can't kill an adult horse, but the bite is painful and foals are vulnerable to their venom, as are we. Are you hungry?"

They sat and ate, the wind chilly. She looked at Kane's profile.

"How did the feud begin?" she asked him.

Strange that she'd never thought to ask before.

"Corsaire killed a Tavishi woman, Penal. She was riding on Tavishi land with her cousin, Ashe. Ashe never returned—dead, probably, defending her. Penal's body was found on Tavishi territory near our western border, a Corsaire arrow in her back. Penal was oath to Betran, a Tavishi warrior. When he found her, Betran went mad with grief and killed a Corsaire woman, Anore, in revenge, a terrible crime that shamed my clan. But the Tavishi High Lord at the time, Onid, would not give Bertran to Corsaire to torment and execute, so Corsaire declared feud against Tavishi for Anore's death."

"Why did Corsaire kill Penal in the first place?"

"Nobody knows, Aslin."

Aslin looked around herself and then at the path still leading farther into the mountains.

"How much farther?"

"We'll stop before dusk," Kane said, looking up at the sky. "I want us camped and warm before the temperature drops."

They rode all afternoon, the country higher than she'd seen before, mostly evergreens, coming up to a plateau leading to deep woodland, huge trees all around them, the horses' hooves muffled in the dense underbrush. As they passed into it, Kane appeared to be searching the surrounding forest and then to see what he wanted.

He stopped Shaol, dismounting and dropping the reins. Aslin watched as he went to a massive dead tree, ranging its perimeter, twice as wide at the base as he was tall, the top open and the interior hollowed out in its trunk, a jagged opening on one side. He pulled out his dagger, which he had traded back for her new one he had given her, and went inside the great trunk. He came out in a moment with several piles of dead branches and leaves in his hands, going back and pushing more out.

"Here's our inn, Corsaire," he said. "Let me clear out the current occupants."

There were spiders, evidence of a nest Kane carried out that she didn't look at too closely. She peered in when he was done, the space tidy. Kane had put a blanket down on the ground, another that he hung with rope in front of the entrance for warmth. He made a fire in front of it as she unsaddled Ilian, and then he took care of Shaol. They completely freed the animals from their dressing and the packs. Kane put the packs in the hollow log. They fed the horses grain.

Aslin sat in front of the fire and watched Kane sort things. He came back with travel rations, dried fruit and nuts and meat, hard bread.

"It's good," she said, trying it.

"It gets old after a week or so. I could hunt, but we're not here long."

The sun began to dip low, Shaol and Ilian standing next to each other for warmth. Aslin was sitting, relaxed, staring into the flames. The smells were strong, the forest darker around them with the setting sun and the brightness of the fire.

"Let me show you where you will sleep tonight," Kane said, getting up and holding out his hand.

He stopped at the entrance to their shelter, taking off his boots. His manner, the way he looked at her, said he was not thinking about sleeping. She took off her slippers and put them with his boots, hers considerably smaller. The shelter was wide, tall enough for Kane to stand easily, dry and relatively clean, fragrant. It was already warmer than outside. Kane had brought candles, going out and getting a stick from the fire, setting them on rocks he brought, lighting them.

"Are you warm enough, Aslin?"

She nodded, taking off her cloak and rolling it, placing it for a pillow. When she straightened, Kane pulled off his cloak and set it on the ground over the blanket, the wool soft. He pulled off his clothing except for his pants. She wandered the small place, exploring it, glancing at him as he made the bed more comfortable. He sat down in it, his body strong, the candlelight highlighting the angles of his face, the muscles of his back and shoulders shifting with his movement.

"I have been thinking all day about what your Corsaire cousins have done to you," he said. "Will you show me?"

Aslin nodded, not quite looking at him, unbuckling her knife and setting it aside, her hands going to the ties of her dress. When she unwrapped the dress from her breasts, he immediately stood in one motion, approaching her, staring. She laughed to have surprised him, looking down. Her nipples were red, tip and areola.

"Corsaire women rouge them, evidently. They insisted before I left, although I still can't see why," she said.

"That's all right," Kane said, his voice husky, still looking at them. "I can see the reason for it just fine."

He undid the string of her pants, letting them drop. She stepped out of them, aware of the neat patch of black hair in front, of how naked her sex was underneath it. Kane walked around her, his fingers trailing on her shoulder, then across her belly. He faced her. He reached for her braids, lifting them, running them through his fingers, the beads clacking a little in the space.

He met her eyes and backed her up with him, reversing her, taking her braids in his fist, wrapping them around his wrist once and pulling straight down, the pressure increasing. She yielded as he went down with her, both to their knees. Kane didn't let go of her braids, pulling her back now until she sat and then lay down. When her head was on the ground, he released her and drew back, straightening, standing over her, his hands going to his pants. He drew them off, returning to kneel in front of her.

Aslin was nervous, lying on her back, her legs together. He put his hands on her knees, sitting back on his heels, slowly drawing them apart, his eyes between her legs. She closed her eyes, letting him. There was a long silence.

"It will grow back if you don't like it, Kane," she told him, nervous.

"I like it, Corsaire," he said, his voice husky. She jumped as he touched her inner thigh, running his fingers gently over her sex, feeling her, her breath catching. "Your skin is like warm silk on your pussy."

His thumbs came and spread her, opening her more. She felt so exposed, squirming a little.

"Give me your hand," he said.

She reached out, wondering what he was doing. He took her hand and pulled it down, resting it on her sex. She pulled her hand away, closing her legs. Kane spread her knees again, touching the bond. She opened it. He took her hand and brought it down again. She let it rest there, her heart pounding.

"When someone hurts you for doing something, your body remembers it," he told her. "You feel the fear because your body thinks pain is coming."

Kane was entirely aroused, watching her hand. She felt her outer lips, running her fingers lightly over them. The skin there was very soft. He drew her knees wider. She felt the area with her fingers, complicated, locating what she knew was there. She felt the entrance to her channel, a little wet, then higher. Her breath caught again when she touched the tender places above that.

"You are very sensitive there, Corsaire. When we are young men they teach us that some women are more aroused inside of them, others more there, but you like both."

His hand was suddenly there with hers, his fingers. He touched her entrance, pushing in a little, her breath hitching. His finger was wet when he brought it back to the sensitive nub, swirling all around it, pleasure coming that he felt through the bond.

"Do that," he said, his breathing deep.

She copied him, his hand withdrawing, getting her own wetness on her finger and swirling around the tenderness, small slow circles like he had done, feeling the swollen place, hard under her fingertips. He continued to watch her hand. Her breathing came faster, the pleasure increasing.

He bent to her nipples, sucking and tugging and then biting. She cried out, rising to his mouth, her fingers moving, finding the right pressure. She closed her eyes, the pleasure in her nipples going between her legs. She felt herself pulse against her fingers, a surge of sensation.

Kane came back on his knees and put her legs outside of his, spreading her wider. She was breathing, pumping her hips slowly, her thighs trembling, the pleasure under her fingers increasing. She felt him at her entrance, felt him slowly push into her, good, compensating with her fingers for the change, finding the hard nub again.

Her legs spread wider as he slowly thrust into her, holding her hips, lifting her, the angle bringing him right to that spot inside her, rubbing. He began thrusting faster.

"Open your eyes," he said, his voice deep with need as she did, looking back at him. "Make yourself come. Rub your little cunt, Corsaire."

He said that and Aslin arched, her knees coming up toward her chest, her feet leaving the floor as she began to climax against her own fingers, clamping on him. He began pushing into her harder. Her breath caught and then she was coming, her fingers moving, his sex making her come harder.

"That's it," he grunted, thrusting into her deeply.

She strained. Kane felt it, she knew, his hands on her hips, watching her. She cried out, arching, fast pulses around him. The pleasure washed through her and finally slowed, small spasms. She withdrew her hand, her back finding the cloak again, breathing quickly, looking back at him, surprised. Kane brought himself down, his body on top of hers, her feet finding the floor. He was on his elbows, still in her. She was sensitive, every move he made making her breath stutter.

"I have made myself less useful to you," Kane said, his breathing deep.

She felt his restraint and squirmed under him, holding his eyes. He stared straight back at her, pulling out and pushing deep, his pleasure coming to her. She shivered, part too sensitive, part pleasure. He began thrusting into her gently and then he straightened his arms. He leaned back, dragging her closer, still gentle and slow. The pleasure came, rising again. He began to increase his thrusts, going deeper.

"You could keep your pussy naked if you like, Corsaire," he said, grunting, looking down where there were meeting, his voice when he was very aroused, when he was close. "I like to see your little cunt quiver with your pleasure. I like to see my cock in you."

He propped himself on one arm and reached down and took her nipple between his fingers, squeezing hard. His thrusts became faster, more rough. It felt so good, her pleasure going to him. Kane cried out and began to come, the bond wide open, making her climax with him. She writhed with it, feeling his pleasure, her own, noises she made that she didn't hear. His mouth came down on hers, kissing her deeply. She buried her hands in his hair, whimpering into his mouth over and over, the pleasure flowing through them as he emptied into her.

#

The fire was fascinating to watch, the whole area dark now. Kane was behind her. She was leaning against his long form, one of his hands curled at her hip, his other arm across her shoulders. She was completely content at this moment, Ilian and Shaol nose to tail, side-by-side, drowsing. Aslin breathed in the smell of the fire, of the forest, the pleasant scent of wood, clean and fresh.

"I want to stay out here forever," she declared.

Kane chuffed laughter behind her.

"You wouldn't say so for long, Corsaire. You'd be glad for a hold after a week or two."

As if summoned by his words, a long slow wail went up from far away, mournful and deep, full of such longing, nothing she'd ever heard before. Aslin sat up quickly, looking around. Ilian raised her head. Shaol did, both animals tensing, Shaol pawing the ground.

"What is that?" she said, tense.

She looked at Kane, who hadn't moved. He was staring far away into the distance where the sound came from.

"It's the wolves," he said as another took up the long cry, a third joining, harmonizing and trailing.

"What are they doing?"

"Singing to Shai," Kane said distractedly, his eyes still distant.

"Kane?" she said.

He looked at her. For a moment his eyes weren't him and another looked out of them. Aslin leaned toward him, her breath catching, feeling a wave of longing. She reached out and touched his face. Then Kane focused on her.