The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

He kissed her mouth, opening hers with his tongue, and reached for a breast. Then he pushed her back onto the furs and bent over to take the nipple into his mouth. She felt herself respond instantly, and the intensity of the sensations increased as he sucked and lightly bit on one nipple and caressed the other with his fingers.

She pushed him back and started pulling up the white tunic she had made for him. “What are you going to do when the baby comes, Jondalar? They’ll be so full of milk.”

“I promise not to steal too much, but you can be sure I’m going to taste it,” he said, smiling, then he pulled his tunic off over his head. “You’ve had one child. Does it feel the same when a baby sucks?”

She thought about it. “No, not exactly,” she said. “It’s pleasurable to nurse a baby, after the first few days. The baby sucks so hard, it makes the nipples sore at first, before they get used to it. But I didn’t get the same feelings deep inside me when I nursed a baby that I do when you suck. Sometimes when you just touch, I can feel it all the way down. That never happens with a baby.”

“I can feel it down inside me just looking at you sometimes,” he said. He took off the belt cinched around her waist, then opened her tunic and rubbed her slightly rounded stomach and caressed her inner thighs. He liked just touching her. He helped her slip out of her open tunic. She untied the thongs from around her waist and removed the rest of her clothes, then helped him untie his tightly wrapped foot coverings.

“I was so happy to see you wearing the tunic I made for you, Jondalar,” Ayla said.

He picked up the tunic that he had dropped on his bedroll, turned it inside out, and, folding it together, laid it carefully on top of his back frame before he began to unwrap his leggings. Ayla took off her amber-and-shell necklace and removed her earrings—her ears were still a little sore from the recent piercing—and put the jewelry away in her pack. She did not want to lose it. When she turned around, she noticed that Jondalar, who couldn’t stand in the tent, was stooping on one foot, pulling off his leggings, but his swollen member was more than ready. She couldn’t resist reaching for it, which unbalanced him. He fell over on the furs, both of them laughing.

“How am I supposed to get these off with you so eager?” he said, pushing off the remaining legging with his other foot and kicking them out of the way. Then he stretched out beside her on the sleeping furs. “When did you make that tunic for me?” he asked, raising up on one elbow so he could look at her. His deep, rich blue eyes were dark, with only hints of blue in the single flame, dilated and glowing as he looked at her with love and longing.

“When we were staying with the Lion Camp,” she said.

“But you were Promised to Ranec that winter. Why were you making a tunic for me?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I think I was hoping. And then I got a strange idea. I remembered that you said you wanted to capture my spirit when you made that little carving of me in the valley, and I was hoping that I could somehow capture your spirit if I made something for you. That time everyone was talking about black animals and white animals, you said that white was special to you. So when Crozie agreed to teach me how to make white leather, I decided to make something for you. Whenever I worked on it, I thought of you. I think I was happiest that winter when I was working on it. I even imagined seeing you wearing it at a mating ceremony. Making it kept my hope alive. That’s why I carried it with me on the Journey back.”

He almost felt his eyes grow moist.

“I’m sorry it isn’t decorated. I was never very good at sewing on beads and things. I started to do it a few times, but I always seemed to get interrupted. I did get some ermine tails on it. I wanted to get more, but never got back to do it that winter. Maybe next winter I can go out and find some more,” she said.

“It was perfect, Ayla. Just the white color was decoration enough. Everyone thought you left it undecorated on purpose, and they were so impressed. Marthona told me she liked the way you were not afraid to let quality and good workmanship be its own decoration. I think you are going to be seeing some white tunics around,” he said.

“When Marthona said I wouldn’t be able to see you or talk to you until after the ceremony, I was ready to break every Zelandonii custom there was just to give it to you. That’s when Marthona said she would do it, although I think she thought even that was too much contact. But I didn’t know if you liked it, and I didn’t know if you would understand why I wanted you to wear it.”

“How could I have been so stupid and blind that winter? I loved you so much. I wanted you so much. Every time you went to Ranec’s bed, I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t sleep, I’d hear every sound. That’s why I took you that day out on the steppe when we went out to train Racer. I could feel every movement of your body when we rode out together on Whinney. Can you ever forgive me for forcing you like that?”

“I kept trying to tell you, but you never would listen. You didn’t force me, Jondalar. Couldn’t you tell how quickly I responded? How could you think you forced me? That was my happiest day all winter. I dreamed about it afterward for days. Every time I closed my eyes I could feel you and want you again, but you wouldn’t come back.”

He kissed her then, suddenly hungry for her. Then he couldn’t wait. He was on top of her, pushing her legs apart, finding her warm, moist well and thrusting deep, feeling her warmth caressin

g his manhood. She was ready for him. She felt him penetrate and strained to meet him, and moaned as she felt his fullness inside her own engorged depths. He pulled back and entered again and again. As the pace quickened, she arched to force the pressure where she wanted it. There. That was right. She was so ready. So was he. Jondalar felt that he would burst with his fullness, and then, every nerve straining, aware of nothing else, the wondrous waves of Pleasure engulfed them both, bursting forth in glorious release. He thrust again a few more times, then collapsed on top of her.

“I love you, Ayla. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you. I will always love you, only you,” he said, holding her right, his voice sounding strained with the intensity of his feeling.

Oh, Jondalar. I love you, too. I always have.” There were tears in the corners of her eyes, partly from the fullness of her love for him, partly from the tension so quickly mounted and so suddenly released.

They lay quietly for a while in the light of the flickering lamp, then he raised up and slowly extracted his spent organ and rolled over to his side. He put his hand on her stomach again.

“I thought I might be too heavy for you. I don’t think I should put too much weight on you now,” he said.

“You are not heavy yet,” she said. “Later we can worry about finding ways to make it easier, when the baby starts to grow more.”

“Is it true that you can feel the life moving inside you?”

“Not yet, but before long I will. You will be able to feel it, too. You just have to put your hand on my stomach like that.”

“I think I’m glad you’ve already had one child. You know what to expect.”

“But it’s not exactly the same. I was really sick when I was carrying Durc, almost all the time.”

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, his worry frown evident.

“I feel wonderful. Even in the beginning I hardly had any sickness at all, and now that is gone.”