Clans of Luteri Bk. 02 Ch. 05-07

She heard a muffled snort from Kane. Ilian turned her head and leaned into Aslin's chest, Aslin scratching her cheeks, planting a kiss on Ilian's eyebrow, moving to her ears, scratching behind them, marveling at her long lashes.

"I don't think I've ever seen a rider lavish so much affection on a Luterian horse that enjoyed it so much," Kane said, shaking his head.

Aslin scoffed, pulling Ilian's forelock from in front of her eyes. It was always falling there. She began to braid it, the horse not caring. She would get a tie from her hair and use it. She glanced at Kane over her shoulder.

"You can't deceive me," she said. "You feel the same about Shaol."

"You would know, Aslin," he said, glancing at her sidelong as he set the packs on the ground, his changing eyes, an acknowledgement of the bond that brought a tingling wave of excitement in her body.

She suddenly felt shy and pleased. She glanced at Kane, smiling, looking away. She looked at him again. He straightened slowly, staring at her. His eyes narrowed and he smiled lazily, looking her down and up.

She froze. He touched the bond and for a moment she considered refusing, given the look in his eyes. She opened it. Oh, yes.

He began to walk toward her.

"But we just—," she protested, turning to face him. "It's cold, Kane."

"If I make a fire, will you take your clothing off?" he asked her, arriving, sidling up to her, one hand coming around her waist and then down to her bottom, pulling her against his lower body.

He moved his head away sharply as Ilian came swooping in, her teeth clacking. Kane danced to evade the horse, grinning, backing himself away quickly, bringing Aslin with him. When he was out of range, he pulled her against him again.

He was in one of his moods, already hard, she could feel it. He would be relentless until she gave in and he reduced her mindless pleasure. Another long wave of excitement went through her, crawling across her lower belly. He bent and put his hands behind her head, grasping the braids, tilting her, smelling her throat as she exposed it, relaxing in his grasp, as likely to do that as kiss her. His mouth moved up to her ear, speaking low.

"You have been driving me crazy almost the entire way here. Your smell changes to me when you're aroused, Dutul. I will always know when you want me to touch you, when you are thinking about sex. Not just what I smell between your legs but all of you. It calls to me, makes it so I can't think of other things."

Aslin flushed. Ever since she promised she would tell him, she had been remembering all the things that her Corsaire cousins had said. It would be so embarrassing to talk about it. But it also made her feel excited. She could feel she was already wet, squirming a little. She couldn't seem to stop thinking about those things once she started. He pressed against her harder, smelling her, she knew.

"What are you thinking about that has gotten you in such a state?" he wondered aloud, entirely predatory, removing her cloak. "Is it telling me what your Corsaire cousins taught you?"

She nodded, her cheeks hotter, squirming a little again.

She jumped when his hand went under her tunic dress and straight between her legs over her pants, cupping her there.

"You're wet, Corsaire," he said, pressing on her. "And I haven't tasted your naked little pussy yet."

His hand went to the string of her pants, tugging the tie open. She tried to catch them but he pushed them down. It was so cold. Kane pulled off his cloak and grabbed her hand, walking her up the slope to the fire pit. He tossed his cloak on the edge of the seats, a ring of smoothed rock around it. He jumped into the pit, put his hands at her waist and lifted her down. He brought her to the edge and lifted her onto it, sitting her over his cloak. He began to pull up the bottom of her tunic dress, sliding it out from under her.

"Kane—," she objected, pushing it down.

He got her knees, pushing them up. She collapsed backward on the cloak as he spread her legs, and then spread her more with his fingers. He bent and began running his tongue very gently all over her clitoris, that's what Lorita had called it. It felt different, naked, nothing between her and his mouth. She pulsed on his tongue, already wet, already very swollen and sensitive, crying out.

Yes, they had told her about this, and her Corsaire cousins had said Kane would want to—and then they had said that he would—and he might—. Aslin came, crying out and arching, no way to stop herself, Kane's tongue the center of all sensation, her legs spreading more. She strained, the pleasure quick and very intense. She flinched away from his tongue, sensitive.

"I was going to wait but I can't, Corsaire,' Kane said, his hands going to his pants, unfastening them, his eyes still between her spread legs. "I have to rut you."

He said it matter-of-factly, but the lust through the bond was so strong that she was immediately pulled in two directions, arousal and aversion. She didn't know what he meant by it, she was far too sensitive for him to—.

He dragged her closer to the edge abruptly, cold on her bottom even with the wool, pushing her knees to her belly and spreading her, bringing himself over her. She was trapped under his weight, feeling him against her entrance. She didn't even have time to protest before he thrust into her, the way slick but too fast, opening her.

She cried out, closing her eyes at the sensations as his hips met her. The angle in this position was too much. He increased his motions, rubbing directly on that place in her. She couldn't get away from it, entirely pinned, her voice high, pushing on his shoulders.

"I can't, Kane," she whimpered, writhing under him. "Please—."

"I know, Corsaire," he said in sympathy, a surge of hot lust from him. "It's going to get worse."

He was grunting with every thrust, more rough than he'd ever been with her, painful now the sensitivity was so high. She could feel every bit of him. His hand dug between them, finding her, rubbing there, too. She couldn't say words. She was pushing at him helplessly, her eyes still closed, whining.

Then it wasn't pain anymore, it was pleasure, and she was coming, Shai, she was coming so hard. She went rigid under him. It wasn't going to stop and she couldn't move to ease it. She clamped on him, giving a series of sharp, high cries, all she could do, the pleasure huge.

"I love fucking you," he said, still stabbing deeply.

He stopped thrusting and pulsed hard in her, throwing his head back and crying out, coming with her, sharing all of it, his release as intense as hers. She closed her eyes again, overwhelmed, waiting through his surge, her body locked under him, and the release finally came when he pushed into her again, still pulsing. Her sex contracted around him over and over, making him cry out again.

She slowly became aware of how cold she was, bare on her bottom half, her knees coming down as Kane released her gently, panting over her. He drew out carefully as she winced. He arranged his clothing and pulled her up by her arms. He grabbed the cloak past her, wrapping it around her and lifting her, sitting himself, putting her on his lap and putting his forehead against hers.

"I will make you a fire when I can move, Corsaire," he said, his breathing still fast.

"Okay," she said, hers still fast as well, feeling as if she'd been mauled, her body heavy and languid and warm now, limp satisfaction.

He grinned, feeling it from her.

"I sometimes don't even know what to do with what I feel for you," he told her.

He bent and kissed her, sweet and slow, her hands going to his hair. When he pulled back, he looked at her for a long moment.

"Fire," he said, reminding himself, lifting and depositing her.

He went and got her cloak. She stood and traded with him, shivering. He pulling her cloak around her securely, lifting the hood. He got out of the pit and brought back the wood as she went and got a soft cloth her cousins had given her. She came back and sat on the edge.

"How long will Ilian live?" Aslin asked, the question she had been readying when he had assaulted her.

Kane was clearing a place in the sand in the fire pit, throwing several rocks to the edges.

"Luterian horses live about sixty years. Shaol is eighteen. How old is Ilian?"

"Seven," she said, feeling a sense of relief. "What are Duellan doing on Tavishi land?"

"Mining," he said.

"What?"

He got out and got the wood bundles, dropping them into the pit.

"They are mining the caves on the ridge that spans Tavishi and Corsaire lands for precious stones. Who knows how long they've been doing it. Neither Tavishi nor Corsaire have defended our territory in the north for over three hundred years. We've been too busy fighting each other. Duellan know that and obviously are taking advantage of the situation."

Kane went into his pack.

"There's the flint," he said to himself.

He pulled dry moss from the pack, going to get the torch.

She watched him make the fire. Aslin huddled in front of it, putting out her hands. He came next to her, sitting with her, putting his arms around her when she leaned into him. She felt him wince away from her a little. She sat up.

"Take off your cloak," she demanded.

"I'm fine, Aslin, I'll take care of it in a moment," he said.

She looked at his face and he sighed, standing and taking off the cloak. She stood with him and saw it immediately, the slash in his shirt, and all the blood rushed from her head.

"It's shallow, Corsaire," he said, reaching out to steady her.

"You're bleeding," she said, her lips numb.

"I tend to do that when I'm cut," he said as she lifted his shirt, the slash on the flesh of his side under his arm, blood under it. "It's not deep."

Aslin stood and went to her pack for the water and a clean cloth.

"I don't have anything to bind it," she said, coming back to him.

She cleaned it, her hand shaking. His came down over hers.

"It's just a scratch, Aslin. It doesn't need binding. It will heal quickly."

She swallowed, shaking harder.

"You could have been killed," she said. "They could have killed you, those men."

He cupped her face. She felt her eyes fill.

"They didn't. Don't cry, Aslin."

"I can't help it," she said, sniffing loudly.

His mouth twitched.

"When you cry you snuffle like a very small pig."

She drew away, eyeing him.

"It's hardly polite to say so," she said, sniffing deeply again.

#

Kane woke. It was deep night. He was glad he did. He looked to see Shai's light shining through the fissure, the color like nothing he'd imagined, luminous and silvery, the whole place glowing the most delicate white, motes hanging in the shine. It was mystic, strange and beautiful. He would wake Aslin to see it. He came up on his elbow, his eyes on it, feeling a sense of awe, even longing. He looked down.

Aslin was naked, pressed to him behind her, dark hair over her pale shoulders, her body molded to him.

The Corsaire was soft and silky all over her body, everything about her arousing him. He leaned down and smelled her, his cock stirring a little, but he had exhausted himself. He had missed her while she was gone for the week, keeping himself busy, thinking about her as he lay in her bed alone. He ran his fingers

along her shoulder to wake her. She opened her eyes. He tilted his head to see her face, but her eyes didn't see anything around her.

"Aslin?"

To his surprise, she drew out of his arms, getting to her feet gracefully, naked. He stood, reaching for his cloak, approaching and leaning to see her.

"Aslin?" he repeated.

She was walking, still naked. Kane followed her, putting his cloak on, the air bitterly cold. It was like she was still asleep. She didn't seem cold at all. She walked to the edge of the underground lake on the shore, directly under the luminous rays streaming in through the fissure, her body looking sculpted in the strange light, long dark hair falling down to mid-thigh, black and blank eyes. She looked up at the fissure, its shine lighting her face oddly.

Kane came behind her, shuddering with cold. She wasn't even shivering. He drew his cloak around her shoulders from behind anyway, her body almost hot. He tipped his face to the side to look at hers. Her eyes were still open and unseeing, her face calm. Kane touched the bond, curious.

She immediately turned in his arms as the bond opened and light hit him, filling his mind. Shai. It was Shai, Shai's light. Kane was struck by it, going rigid. He couldn't move. Her arms slowly came up around his neck, her eyes as blank.

Lust hit him through the bond, overwhelming, urgent, his cock surging and hardening against her belly. Then he could move, his mouth coming down on hers, all he could think about. He needed to be inside her, needed to fuck her. He dropped the cloak, pulling her down with him.

Halfway down, her hands went to his shoulders, rolling on top of him, pinning him, her body strong. She moved her hips, finding his cock and pushing herself onto him, her whole lower body moving in sinuous waves, her pussy clamping on him. Kane cried out in shock and pleasure.

Her hands came down on his arms like bands and he couldn't move them. She was thrusting on him. He cried out again, the sensations beyond pleasure, bordering on pain it was so keen.

Her lower body moved but her upper body was still, her arms straight, her hands still holding him. She was climaxing as he began to spend in her, his cock pulsing, his head stretching back, the tendons in his neck showing, his shoulders trying to leave the cold rock under him, unable even to thrust as she took it from him. It went on forever, coming and coming, an endless exchange of pleasure, lost in it.

His chest was heaving, trying to get his breath, staring up at her. It was Aslin but it wasn't.

The pleasure slowly faded. She released his arms and he could move again. She reached her hand slowly, touching his cheek, a caress of such acceptance and knowing that his head fell back, his eyes closing, his breath choking out once, tears coming to his eyes and rolling from the outer corners, cold by the time they rolled down his cheeks.

She left him, withdrawing from him and standing up. He came up on his side, freezing, watching as she walked back to the fire, back to their blankets, and climbed in, lying on her side and closing her eyes.

Kane sat up, shuddering in reaction, pulling the cloak up around himself. He looked up through the fissure until he stopped shaking so hard and his breathing evened. Then he got up, walking to join her. He looked at her for a long moment and then lay beside her, her body very warm. He pulled her to himself.

"You're hands are cold, Kane," Aslin complained sleepily.

"I'm sorry, Corsaire," he said, his voice husky, curling up behind her, watching the light again.

#

Kane was distracted in the morning, quiet through breakfast. Aslin felt strangely sore from sleeping on the ground despite the blankets and her cloak.

"We will need fuel, more wood for the fire," Kane said. "I will take Shaol and go and gather it and bring it back. Will you be all right here alone?"

"Yes. Are you well, Kane?" she asked, worried by his manner.

"Yes, Aslin. Just a dream."

She watched him disappear down the passage, Shaol following. Aslin looked around. Evidently they were going to stay here for longer if he were getting more wood. She wandered around, the cavern huge, gradients of blue, dark places on its edges.

She went back to the fire, taking out their provisions and neatening them, repacking. She took the blankets and shook them. She cared for Ilian's tackle. Not having anything else to do, she brushed Ilian a second time and then returned to the fire, feeding it more wood, idle. Surely Kane would be back soon.

She went to the edge of the water, putting her fingers in and smelling, wrinkling her nose. It smelled strongly of minerals. She began to explore the chamber again, crossing to the far side, a deep area that rose onto a small plateau where the ceiling became low, much of it in shadow.

She saw something against the far wall there, long and large. She approached it, going up the slope, bending down, peering. It was a bundle of something, the cloth around it looking old, dusty. She looked closer. Her eyes were drawn to something next to it and she saw a hand, blackened and gnarled.

Aslin cried out, backing away. She lost her balance on the slope, falling on her hip, crying out again with the pain, scrambling backward. She got up and retreated as Ilian came straight to her, the horse circling her, looking for the threat. Aslin backed away until she was against the far wall, Ilian standing in front of her watchfully. Aslin stayed there, shaking, her eyes fixed on the dim shape across the cavern.

Kane was pulling her against himself. He was breathing hard. She turned her face into him, closing her eyes, very grateful he was there.

"What is it?" she said, her voice muffled.

"What is what, Corsaire? I felt you frightened. I was almost back. I couldn't get here fast enough. There's nothing here. What are you afraid of?"

She pointed into the dark recess all the way across the cavern. He looked and then left her, walking across to it. She saw him see it, saw him go to it. She followed, keeping her distance.

"What is it?" she repeated, not looking at it.

"A man's body, Aslin, preserved in this place."

She came closer as he went and squatted over it. Kane pushed back the figure's hood, making a sound of pity. Aslin looked away. She was very glad she hadn't seen the dead man's face before.

"He was Tavishi. There haven't been Tavishi here in over three hundred years," Kane said in wonder. "The cold prevented him rotting. His wounds killed him."

Kane picked up an arrow next to the figure.

"Duellan," he said softly. "He was shot by Duellan and wounded and he came here for shelter like we did, and then he died here. But who was he?"

She watched, wincing, as Kane went through the man's tattered clothes, dust and fibers drifting up, his pockets. Then Kane froze, picking up the man's hand on the far side of him, the whole arm lifting. Aslin watched, grimacing. He pried something from the fingers. Aslin could hear them pulled away, sounding like dry grass crackling. She shuddered. Kane looked at it for so long that she came closer to see it.

"What is it?"

"Penal," he said softly.

"What?"

He looked up at her. She looked at his hand. He was holding an oath bracelet.

"Tavishi say that when Penal was found dead three hundred years ago, she was missing her oath bracelet. Betran claimed she had it when she left him the day before. Tavishi didn't understand why she would take it off. This is Penal's oath bracelet, Aslin. She was here, with this man, and not long before she died. It has her bloodline written on it, Bertran's bloodline."

Kane stood, still looking at the bracelet. He slowly put it in his pocket, his eyes on the figure at his feet.

"This must be Ashe, Penal's cousin, who rode with her that day, whom Tavishi assumed died defending her. We never found his body. But I don't understand what they were doing in the north, why they were here. Tavishi found Penal by the western border between Tavishi and Corsaire territory, a Corsaire arrow in her back."

"Could Corsaire have killed her here and brought her body back?"

Kane picked up the Duellan arrow again, turning it in his hands.

"I don't think both Duellan and Corsaire would have been hunting them together. Ashe and Penal were here at the shrine," he said. "Ashe was wounded by a Duellan arrow and died here. Penal must have left her oath bracelet here as a message to any who might find it, left it with her cousin's body, with the Duellan arrow, in case she was taken or killed by Duellan, so Tavishi would know."