The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

“Oh! I’m sorry, Jondalar. What did you say?”

“What were you thinking about that you didn’t even hear me?”

“I was thinking about the differences between the Others and the Clan, and I was wondering why the Zelandonii seem to make more things than the Clan did,” Ayla said.

“Did you come up with an answer?” Marthona asked.

“I don’t know, but maybe different ways of hunting might have something to do with it,” Ayla said. “When Brun and his hunters went out, they usually brought back a whole animal, sometimes two. The Lion Camp could count about the same number of people as Brun’s clan, but when they hunted, everyone who could went out, men, women, even some children, if only for the drive. They usually killed many animals and brought back only the best and richest parts, and saved most of the meat for winter. I don’t recall a time that either starved, but by the end of winter, the Clan was often left with only the leanest and least filling food, and sometimes had to hunt in spring when animals were thin. The Lion Camp ran out of some foods, and were hungry for greens, but they seemed to eat well even in late spring.”

“That may be something to mention to Joharran, later,” Willamar said, yawning às he got up. “But right now, I’m going to bed. We’re likely to have a busy day tomorrow, too.”

Marthona got up from the cushions when Willamar did and carried the serving dishes into the cooking room.

Folara stood up, stretching and yawning in a way that was so similar to Willamar, Ayla smiled at the resemblance. “I’m going to bed, too. I’ll help you clean those dishes in the morning, mother,” she said, wiping out her wooden eating bowl with a small piece of soft deerskin before putting it away. “I’m too tired now.”

“Are you going hunt

ing, Folara?” Jondalar asked.

“I haven’t decided. I’ll see how I feel later,” she replied, heading for her sleeping room.

After Marthona and Willamar went into their sleeping space, Jondalar moved aside the low table and spread out their sleeping furs. As they settled into them, Wolf came to sleep beside Ayla. He didn’t mind staying out of the way when people were around, but when Ayla went to bed, he felt his place was beside her.

“I really like your family, Jondalar,” Ayla said. “I think I’m going to like living with the Zelandonii. I was thinking about what you said last night, and you’re right. I shouldn’t judge everyone by a few unpleasant people.”

“Don’t judge everyone by the best, either,” Jondalar said. “You never know how people will react to something. I’d take them one at a time.”

“I think everyone has some good and some bad,” Ayla said. “Some have a little more of one than the other. I always hope people will have more good than bad, and I like to believe most do. Remember Frebec? He was really nasty in the beginning, but in the end, he turned out to be nice.”

“I have to admit, he surprised me,” Jondalar said, snuggling close to her and nuzzling her neck.

“You don’t surprise me, though,” she said, smiling as she felt his hand between her thighs. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I hope you’re thinking the same thing,” he said. As she reached up to kiss him, she returned the gesture. “And I think maybe you are.”

The kiss was long and lingering. They both felt their desire grow, but there was no rush, no need to hurry. They were home, Jondalar thought. Through all the difficulties of the long and dangerous Journey, he had brought her home with him. Now she was safe, the dangers were over. He stopped and looked down at her, and felt so much love for her, he didn’t know if he could contain it.

Even in the soft light of dying fires, Ayla could see the love in blue eyes that were a rich shade of violet in the firelight, and she felt herself fill with the same emotion. When she was growing up, she never dreamed she would find a man like Jondalar, never dreamed she would be so lucky.

He felt a catch in his throat and bent down to kiss her again, and knew he had to have her, to love her, to join with her. He was grateful to know that she was there for him. She always seemed ready for him, to want him whenever he wanted her. She had never played coy games with him, the way some women did.

Marona came to his mind for a moment. She had liked to play those games, not as much with him, but with others. And suddenly he was grateful that he had gone off with his brother on an unknown adventure instead of staying and mating with Marona. If only Thonolan had lived…

But Ayla was alive, though he had come close to losing her more than once. Jondalar felt her mouth open to his searching tongue, felt the warmth of her breath. He kissed her neck, and nibbled her earlobe, and ran his tongue down to her throat in a warm caress.

She held herself still, resisting the tickling sensation and letting it become internal spasms of expectation. He kissed the hollow of her throat and detoured to one side toward an erect nipple, circling it, nibbling it. Her anticipation was so intense, she almost felt a sense of relief when he finally took it in his mouth and suckled. She felt the jolt of excitement in the depths of her being, and at the place of her Pleasures.

He was ready, he was so ready, but he felt himself fill even more when he heard her soft moan as he suckled and gently bit first one nipple and then the other. The urge suddenly came upon him so strongly, he wanted her that instant, but he wanted her to be as ready as he was. He knew how to bring her there.

She could feel his eager desire, and it fired her own. She would have been happy to open herself to him at that moment, but when he pushed down the top cover of their sleeping roll and moved lower, she held her breath, knowing what was coming and wanting it.

His tongue circled her navel for only a moment; he didn’t want to wait, and neither did she. As she kicked off the top cover, she felt a moment’s hesitation at the thought of the others in their sleeping places nearby. Ayla wasn’t used to being in a dwelling with other people and felt a little constrained. Jondalar seemed to have no such compunctions.

The unease slipped from her mind as she felt him kiss her thigh, press her legs apart and kiss the other, and then kiss the soft folds of her womanhood. He savored her familiar taste, licked slowly, and then found her small, hard nodule.

Her moan was louder. She felt flashes of Pleasure like lightning blaze through her as he sucked and massaged her with his tongue. She didn’t know she was so ready. It came on her quicker than she expected. Almost without warning, she was there, feeling peaks of Pleasure and a overwhelming desire for him, for his manhood.

She reached for him, pulled him up to her, and helped him to enter. He penetrated deeply. With the first stroke, he struggled to hold back, to wait a little, but she was ready, urging him, and he gave himself up to it. With joyous abandon, he plunged, fully, once more, and then again, and then he was there, as she was, feeling the waves of Pleasure mount up and spill over, again and again and again.