Transcendence

At first, I think it might be her bleeding time, but there is no wool or absorbent leather between her legs, just this little covering. It is so thin, I can see the short hairs underneath it.

The bit of cloth is so… so tiny.

And pink.

Beh’s whimper draws my attention back to her face, the streaks of tears over her cheeks, and her teeth nearly embedded in her lower lip. I feel my chest clench, and the pressure behind my eyes starts again as I quickly look the rest of her over. I don’t see any wounds on her, but what if the boar had gotten her leg instead of the cloth? I could have lost her, and I haven’t even given her a baby yet. As I realize this, a sense of panic paralyzes me.

My mind is completely consumed by the thought.

What if there is another boar in the area? What if she falls, gets hurt, and dies? What if there isn’t enough food to hold both of us until spring? What if I get sick and I still haven’t given her a baby? What if a hyaenodon finds our cave in the night, and I can’t fight him off?

We have to mate now before it’s too late.

I have to put a baby in her.

Every fiber of my being screams at me—I have to put a baby inside of her before something happens to one of us. The longer I wait, the more likely a tragic event could occur. There is nothing more important for me than to give my mate a baby. I have to give her one quickly before anything else can happen.

Desperately, I move back from Beh, grab her by her waist, and quickly flip her over to her stomach. I can hear her mouth sounds, but I can’t concentrate on them—I am already far too focused on what I know must be done. I breathe faster as I think of how we will come together. I grasp her hips with both hands to bring her up into position with my legs between hers. I kneel behind her, and though the tiny little scrap of material was interesting before, I need it out of my way now. I pull it down her legs to her knees, but it gets in the way of holding her thighs apart. With a frustrated growl, I lift her legs off the ground and pull the cloth to her ankles. I meet further resistance from her foot-coverings, but manage to pull the bit of cloth around them. I turn my gaze back to her body, and she is fully exposed to me for the first time.

The scent of her sex is intoxicating.

Dropping her legs back to the furs, I push them apart with my knees. I lean forward and run one hand down the course of Beh’s back as the other hand pulls away the fur at my waist. Taking a deep breath, I wrap my fingers around my hard shaft. Her heat and scent encompass my senses as I place the tip of my hard flesh against her opening, completely giving in to the instincts that drive my very being.

Finally, my ears pick up the sound of her no word.

CHAPTER NINE

She doesn’t shout the sound. In fact, it’s hardly more than a whisper, but the intense emotion and fear behind it is enough to halt my movements completely. I have to hold my muscles still, force myself not to move, not to thrust into her. I can feel myself right there, right at her opening, closer than I have ever been to a woman.

The urge is nearly unbearable.

Nearly.

The soft little cry of no from Beh, however—that is unbearable.

I uncoil my fingers from my rigid flesh, and my arms go around her body. I pull us both over to our sides and hold her to my chest as I try to calm myself. I can feel my own heart beating against her back as a shudder runs through her body, and the vibrations from her shaking ripple through my arms.

She shifts her position, and her hand reaches down to grasp the little piece of material from the furs beside her, and she pulls it up her legs to slide it back into place. I can hear her crying, and again, I don’t know what to do, so I don’t do anything. I just keep my arms around her body and hold her tightly against my chest until her cries slowly ebb.

Does she never want me to mate with her?

If she doesn’t, why would she hold on to me?

What did I do wrong?

She starts to move again, and I am terrified she is going to try to get away from me, so I grip her a little tighter. Instead of trying to escape me, Beh just rolls over within my grasp until she is facing me. She wraps her arms around my neck and tucks her head into my chest like she often does at night. I stroke her hair, and I listen to her quiet sounds as she struggles through her tears.

Beh tilts her head back to look at me, and her hand cups my cheek. Her fingers run through my beard as she makes more sounds, shakes her head back and forth, and looks into my eyes like she is searching for something.

My chest tightens again as I look at her face, and I wipe her tears away. As I do, she wraps her fingers around my wrist, and I tense again, waiting to see if she will push me away. She doesn’t, but turns my hand over instead and exposes the long cut down my arm where the boar gouged me. It is not deep and isn’t bleeding any longer, but it is dark red and angry looking. Beh lightly touches around the outside of the wound, and I flinch a little.

Instantly, she looks at me, her eyes full of sadness as tears spill from them again. Her hand covers my cheek and jaw again as she makes more soft sounds before leaning in closer and placing her mouth against my lips. They feel warm and soft against me, and I moan as I pull her flush against my skin. I can feel her bare legs against mine, which is different from what I am used to feeling. They feel so very soft—nearly as soft as her lips. I almost want to break our embrace to get a better look at them.

Almost.

I grip her hip as her fingers tug at the hair on the back of my head. It seems like it should hurt, but it doesn’t—it feels wonderful. Wondering if she would like it, too, I wind her long hair once around my wrist and pull back.

When I pull, her mouth parts from mine, and she gasps as her neck bends back. Not wanting to end the activity, I follow her head with my own. I work my lips against hers, and this time she moans at me, and I pull her hips toward mine.

My penis is still hard, and when I pull her against me, it rubs up against her pubic bone. I try to hold in the whimper that wants to escape from my mouth at the feeling and have to restrain myself from pushing it harder against her.

It feels so good there.

So right.

I really want to put it inside of her.

Why doesn’t she want me?

Her mouth opens, and I feel her tongue touch mine.

It seems like she wants me when she lets me do this with her. When her fingers run through my hair, or when she holds my hand as we walk to the lake, it feels like she wants to be my mate, but she doesn’t want me to give her a baby, and I don’t understand why not.

Is there something wrong with me? Does she see something about me that she thinks will be bad for her children? Is that why she doesn’t mate with me? I wonder if it’s because I’m alone. Could she believe my former tribe abandoned me because there is something wrong with me?

There is no way for her to know what really happened since she wasn’t there, so this could be what she thinks of me. She might think I am not good enough to be a part of a tribe, and she is only here with me now because there is no other tribe for her. That would explain why she stays with me—because she has no one else. It also explains why she doesn’t want me to give her a baby—because she thinks there is something wrong with me.

Maybe that is why she cried again when she saw my arm. Does she think I won’t be as strong now?

I break away from her and rise up on my knees, determined to show her I can still care for her and her children. Her eyes open wide as I reach down and pull her from the furs, pick her up, and then bring her back out into the sunlight. Beh shades her eyes from the brightness as I set her down gently, and I let go of her hand long enough to grab the boar and raise his body up over my head.

It makes the muscles in my arms and shoulders ache, and it’s also a little cold outside without any furs covering me, but I don’t care.

Beh looks at me with one eyebrow raised and then quickly looks away with crimson cheeks. She does not appear impressed, only confused. I put the boar down and run back into the cave. I select my sharpest flint knife and bring it back outside. I quickly and efficiently remove the boar’s hide to show her how well I can provide animal skins for her. I tuck the edges of the hide into the rocks above the cave so it can dry, and I quickly remove the best pieces of meat from the boar to roast over the fire. Taking her hand again, I bring her back into the cave and next to the fire. I quickly wedge the meat onto the spit and lay it across the burning coals.

Looking up into her eyes, I see they are sparkling in…amusement? I narrow my eyes at her, and Beh bites into her lip as she offers me a smile. I find myself focusing on her mouth again and wondering if I could bite her lip a bit as well.

Would she like that?

“Khhzz?” I whisper.

Beh smiles again, and a bright red tinge covers her cheeks. I take the answer to be affirmative, and I shuffle a step on my knees to get closer to her.

A sharp pain in my left knee stops me, and when I reach down to see what has caused the pain, I find a tiny round…thing. When I pick it up, it feels cold in my hand, and I realize it is the little bit that flew off of Beh’s leggings. I hold it up near the firelight to try to get a better look at it. I put it in my mouth and bite down, but it only hurts my teeth.

Beh laughs and reaches out, taking the little round thing from me. She holds it in her palm and looks at it, suddenly growing quiet. She makes more sounds—soft and subdued as she flips the thing over. On the opposite side, there are raised shapes in the circle. Beh runs the very tip of her finger around it and sighs softly.

Her eyes look to me, then back to the thing in her hand. A single tear tries to make its way down her cheek, but she captures it with the back of her hand before it has the chance to get far. Beh closes her hand over the little round thing, capturing it in her fist. She squeezes tightly, then turns her hand palm down and releases it back to the ground.

Beh moves forward quickly, and I’m pushed backwards a little as she throws her arms around my neck and firmly plants her lips on my mouth. She tightens her grip on my head as her bare legs straddle my naked waist. I reach around and grasp her backside—supporting her body as she plunges her tongue into my mouth.

As our mouths move together, I realize Beh wants to be with me, but she doesn’t want to have my baby inside of her. Women are supposed to want a baby in them, aren’t they? But my mate doesn’t. Is there a reason to have a mate who doesn’t want to make a baby?

Yes, there is.

I want her here with me. I don’t care if my mate is unusual and doesn’t want me to put a baby in her. I’m still going to keep her.

With Beh’s hands in my hair and her mouth firmly attached to mine, I wonder what just changed. Obviously, she has made some kind of decision in her head though there is no way for me to know why she has had a change of heart. I can feel my body relax as I feel her relax, and her mouth is soft against my lips while she presses her body hard against me.

I support her with one arm as the other slides up her back and over the thin material of her tight-fitting tunic. My fingers brush over the unusual strap across her back, and I am reminded of the tiny bit of clothing that separates my hardened male flesh from her sex, and I groan into her mouth.

Beh breaks from me for a moment, and she looks into my eyes. For a while, we just look at each other, and then she releases the back of my head and trails her hands around to my cheeks. She leans forward and touches her lips to the side of my mouth before her hands let go of my face entirely.

I set her back on her feet, and Beh looks at me for a long moment. Suddenly, she reaches to the hem of her tunic and quickly pulls it up and over her head, giving me my first good look at that strange thing that wraps around her breasts.

When I had a tribe, I’d seen plenty of women’s breasts, from my mother and my sisters to those of the other women of my tribe. Summers can be hot, and most people wore very little clothing during the warm months. I never really thought too much about them. As I became a man, I would think more about a female’s backside because that is what I thought of holding as I mated with her. Breasts were just too…commonplace.

But that little scrap of triangular cloth, and the way it holds, lifts, and hides her female curves from my eyes, has suddenly made her breasts far more interesting than they ever had been before. My eyes dance to Beh’s, and there is a hint of a smile on her face. I look back to the round, hidden flesh and find myself leaning a little closer, my eyes slowly taking in what can be seen and wondering exactly what they look like underneath. I wonder if Beh will choose to show them to me.

I would really like to see them.

I grip her hips as I look back to her eyes and lean in to run my nose over her jaw. I reach her ear, inhale, and sigh against her skin. She shivers, and I hope she is not too cold. I look back to her eyes, but she doesn’t appear to be uncomfortable. Her breathing is faster, and she tightens her grip on my shoulders.

My nose runs down the side of her neck and to her shoulder. When I reach the thin strap of cloth there, I sniff at it, curious about its purpose. I follow the edge of it down to her collarbone, then change my course and run my nose across the top of her chest. When I reach the strap on the other side, I move back to her shoulder, up her neck, and over her chin. My lips brush hers softly before I touch the tip of her nose with mine, and we both stare at each other.

Beh’s hand drops from my shoulder and covers my fingers at her waist. My chest tightens as she pulls my hand away from her skin; I am afraid she has changed her mind again, and she won’t let me touch her there. Instead, she brings my hand up her side, around to the front, and covers her right breast with it.

“Hoh!” I hear myself make a strange, grunting, breathy gasp. It’s not a sound I recall making before, but it seems to fit both my state of shock and awe. Beh smiles as my thumb traces the top edge of the triangular shape, and the rest of my fingers flex and grip gently.