“Now you,ástin mín,” Gaelfr ordered, as he turned to hang Raye’s clothes off a nearby tree branch. “Or do you need me to undress you, also?”
Again, Raye half-expected Kalfr to walk away, or refuse. But instead, he kept looking at her, his eyes angling downwards, toward her bare breasts, her belly, her thighs. At all the places where she was distinctly fuller and softer than before. And Gaelfr could see Kalfr looking too, and he promptly eased behind Raye, and gave a smooth, suggestive stroke against her waist. Offering Kalfr this. Taunting Kalfr with this.
And Kalfr still wasn’t arguing it. Was he? No. And Raye didn’t miss the hitch in his breath, his low huff of a laugh, or maybe a groan, as he let out a heavy exhale, and began kicking off his boots.
As if — he wasagreeingto this. Agreeing to kneel with her. To make an offering with her. To beg for a son with her.
And now it was Raye looking at Kalfr, staring dry-mouthed as he deftly unfastened his trousers, and shucked them off. Revealing the sudden, shocking sight of his tall muscled body in the moonlight, his skin deep and gleaming, and still streaked with several smears of dirt. His hair was still messy from his day’s work, too, with multiple curly tendrils escaping his braid — but for a dangling, breathless instant, the curls looked like a halo, a living shimmer of warmth around his face. And thosestreaks of dirt across his torso shimmered, too, in beautiful contrast to his glowing skin — and most arresting of all, there at his groin, was his swelling, lengthening cock, rising up toward her, with a thick strand of moonlit white already dripping from its slit.
A favoured son of the goddess, Gaelfr’s distant voice whispered, from Raye couldn’t even remember when — but as she kept staring, breathless, it seemed impossible that Kalfr would be anything else. The goddess’ own beautiful, moon-kissed son, come to walk among them. Come to make an offering on this altar, ready to beget a son upon a willing woman, this night.
And when Gaelfr nudged Raye toward the altar, she nodded, and went. Stumbling as she staggered toward it, and then clambered up onto her knees on the soft fur. Where it at least felt somewhat familiar now — had it just been this morning that she and Kalfr had knelt together, and prayed in this exact place? But there was also a rising whisper of uncertainty, of fear. Would she need to expose herself to him? Beg for him again? Offer herself up for yet more of his punishment?
But then — Gaelfr again. Gaelfr, still in his trousers, shifting up to kneel beside Raye on the altar, his hand stroking warm and safe against her bare back. And when his other hand beckoned Kalfr forward, Kalfr squared his shoulders, and strode closer. Padding on bare feet toward them, impossibly graceful and fluid, even as that dripping length swung and swayed between his legs, dangling its gleaming essence toward the earth. A sight that could have been comical, or obscene — but here, in this breath, it felt laden with strength, with sensuality, with easy, languid virility. With the unparalleled power to spark that son, on whatever woman he wished.
“Good,” Gaelfr murmured, once Kalfr was kneeling on the fur before them, his eyes glittering and unreadable on Raye’s face.“Now, for this offering, you must first touch each other. Cover each other with your scents.”
Touch — each other? Raye’s already-hot face flooded even hotter, because Kalfr still hadn’t touched her like that, had he? Beyond the crucial parts? And surely now he would refuse, he would get up, and walk away…
But he didn’t. He still didn’t. And instead, as his eyes held Raye’s, he raised his hand, and carefully settled it against her shoulder. The touch light, even innocuous, but it still froze her breath, and flared sudden heat to her groin. Kalfr was touching her. Wanting this, with her.
“You touch him also, woman,” Gaelfr ordered, as he shifted over toward Kalfr, and began tugging out his messy braid. “You both need this.”
Kalfr exhaled, but he still didn’t argue, and his other hand settled against Raye’s other shoulder. Still wanting her, wanting to touch her — and when Raye kept staring at him, disbelieving, his eyes flickered on hers, his mouth twitching up into a small, rueful smile. An encouragement. An offering.
We must all seek to meet each other, learn each other, trust each other.
It was enough to edge Raye closer toward him on the fur — and with a deep breath, she ventured a careful touch to his bare, dirt-streaked torso. And beyond a bob in his throat, Kalfr didn’t twitch or refuse, and his own hands now caressed in unison down her arms. His touch so gentle, firing out flares of heat and colour, and Raye shivered as she kept touching him, too, stroking her fingers up the plane of his bare chest.
She could do this. She could focus on this moment. On touching her mate, learning him, meeting him. And compared to all the rest, touching each other should be a small thing, an easy thing…
But then, oh, Kalfr’s warm hands slid down to Raye’s breasts. Cupping them, curving so careful around them, and her breath escaped in a harsh, ragged sound, far too like a sob. Gods, she needed him to keep doing that, to gently squeeze her like that, to softly stroke his thumbs at her already-peaked nipples. To flare out furious jolts of heat and pleasure, firing it deep into her belly, and she had to fight down the urge to shove closer, to hurl herself into his arms —
“Keep touching him, woman,” came Gaelfr’s distant but commanding voice, because right, Raye’s own hands had stilled, frozen against Kalfr’s shoulders. And it took all her focus to fight through the pleasure, to keep exploring him with shaky, urgent craving. Stroking the muscled strength of his arms, the silken skin of his abdomen, the fine line of hair streaking down his lower belly. All the way to those ridges of his hips, the strength of his thighs…
Gaelfr had continued tending Kalfr’s hair, too, and it now tumbled down in tight curls all around his head. Framing his face with shadow and softness, making him even more stunning, more like the goddess’ own son come to life. And he was still watching her with hungry, half-lidded eyes, as his warm hands slipped downwards behind her, drawing her closer toward him on the fur…
Until — a different touch. A new nudge, streaking wetness against Raye’s thigh. Not his hands, but… his cock.
Raye’s breath choked, her hands again stilling on his skin, but Gaelfr harrumphed as he shifted around toward her, and began tugging out her braid, too. “Keep going, woman,” he snapped, though his words were softened by the gentle scrape of his claws against her scalp. “You must cover each other with your scents, and thus ready each other for your offering.”
Right. The offering. Theson. Raye’s heartbeat skipped, but when her gaze found Kalfr’s again, he didn’t look reluctant, didhe? No, his eyes were still warm, intense, hungry — and his hands curved possessively against her arse before easing over her hips. As if yes, he would cover her with his scent, and ready her for the son he wanted to spark upon her.
And even as the distant warnings chanted at the back of Raye’s thoughts — this was dangerous, this was foolishness, this might still be a punishment — far stronger was the dizzying sensation of Kalfr’s fingers now sliding down her front, brushing gently over her coarse hair. And then slipping still lower, nudging her thighs apart — and Raye instantly obliged, shifting her knees, opening herself wider. Giving Kalfr’s clever fingers room to keep touching, keep exploring, first only skimming up and down her spasming heat, and then softly circling at the top of her crease, teasing her there, as if he still remembered that, after all these years. And his eyes kept watching her all the while, hooded and shimmering, as if he wanted to see her response, wanted to see her flush and quiver beneath his touch.
It was too much, too utterly overwhelming, and Raye was only distantly aware of Gaelfr’s hand giving her now-loose hair a light, meaningful tug. Reminding her to keep touching Kalfr again, and after another shaky breath, she obeyed. Carefully circling one hand around his hard spasming cock, while the other smoothed downward over his full, rounded bollocks.
But Kalfr still didn’t resist. If anything, his shaft swelled fuller in Raye’s hand, and his own hands’ touch came smoother, deeper, his fingers nudging up inside her. And oh, how that felt, her mate finally touching her there, slowly sliding two long fingers deeper and deeper into her, and Raye couldn’t hide her hoarse, helpless cry, the way her body clamped back against him. Wanting him. Needing him.
Kalfr saw that, he knew that, his eyes glimmering with hunger, with satisfaction, as Raye cautiously stroked up and down his hard length, feeling him shudder in her fingers. Andwhen she lingered at his rounded tip, and drew down the velvety hood of him, nudged her audacious finger against the slick string dangling from his slit, she could feel the soft spatter of fresh liquid heat against her finger in return. While his fingers began stroking inside her, too, curling just where she craved his touch most, and she couldn’t bite back her cries now, her relief almost close enough to taste…
“Good,” cut in Gaelfr’s voice. “Now, we shall begin our offering.”
They would begin. Raye’s heartbeat spiked, her eyes wildly searching Kalfr’s face — but he still wasn’t refusing, and his cock still in her fingers betrayed a hard, sustained spasm, a spurt of liquid warmth against her belly. He wanted the offering. He wanted the son, with her.
“So come, woman,” Gaelfr said, with a gentle slap to her arse. “Next you must lie down, and open wide for your mate. You must prove you are ready and willing for him to fill you, and beget his son upon you.”
Raye’s entire body quivered, squeezing her tight around Kalfr’s fingers still inside her. Betraying her in the most visceral of ways, shouting at him that maybe — maybe she really did want that son from him, too. And what did that say about her, why wasn’t she jumping up and running away, why would she want such an unthinkably dangerous thing…
