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The sun wheeled across the sky in its blazing chariot high above sleeping, bare bodies of Danica and Cale, making its way towards late afternoon. Warmth enveloped them, despite the lateness of the season, and the bard, with one arm curled beneath his head, the other draped across the young woman’s side, shifted a little in his slumber. Wakefulness had left him with little reluctance, for the coupling had left him spent, exhausted; yet thoroughly satisfied. He’d remained awake long enough to trace the contours of Danica’s face once they’d settled onto the moss on the west side of the rock, listen to her breathe for a few minutes, and then smile before dropping off…
He had not meant to do so, for he had wished to write his thoughts within his little book, to share the words that he could not speak with this young woman… his friend, his companion, his comfort in the middle of an aloof world… but he had not managed it, and now curled against her, eyes shut, lips parted.
Dream images chased their elusive tails ’round his head, of twisted ropes and gnarled winter trees, and for a moment, the shadow of a frown slipped across his features… fingers tightened in his own hair, and gently squeezed Danica’s soft skin, before releasing once more.
A soft sigh escaped Danica and she stirred. She had been enjoying the fuzzy coherence of her dream–she was naked in a poppy field, her back spread on soil, her face lifted to the drifting animal clouds…tears sliding soundlessly down her cheeks, streaming and melding into the ground beneath her, feeding seeds of trees yet to be born…a branch of a nearby tree was swaying gently in the wind, reached to her…PINCHED her?
Danica’s eyes flew open, her sight full of sleep and blurry. Cale. It had been Cale. She let out her breath in a slow expulse of relief and shifted a little on her side. To be honest with herself, this was the first time that waking from a dream had been more pleasant than the dreams themselves. Cale was beside her, his breath solid and rhythmic, still induced in slumber. Danica watched his face, memorizing their contours…his beauty.
She had not turned before seeing the frown embedded in the expression of his sleeping face. She dragged her fingertip down his cheek gently, wondering the nature of his own dreams. Her eyes drifted to his exposed neck. A ragged, vicious scar marred the otherwise smooth length of his throat. She stared at it, feeling a tear moisten her cheek. She brushed at it absently and passed her fingers to the angry scar, running her soft fingertips across its ridge. The contact…it left her breathless. So much pain…Cale…
She took her hand back, the touch saddening her. She returned her now-alert gaze back to Cale’s.
“What happened to you..?” Her voice was hushed to the point of nothing coherent.
Daylight, frozen…. Winter… the cold did not quite filter through in his dream, and yet his breath still bore itself visibly upon the air in front of him. In front of him… until… the hood. They’d draped a hood over him, for propriety’s sake, to keep the lusting crowd from seeing the fullness of his agony when he dropped. At least they’d given him that. He dreamed of himself standing upon the cart once more, the horses champing noisily at the bit behind him, unable to see, and yet somehow watching himself from the milling crowd at the same time, silent, unable to speak, mute to save himself…
His brows pulled tighter when Danica’s finger delicately traced the lines of his cheek, to his chin… and onward to the scar that marred his throat. Reality and the dream clashed violently together, and he rose up on a sudden, gasping for air even as she spoke. Wild green eyes blinked in the autumn sun and for a painful, thundering heartbeat, he lifted a hand to ward her away…But quickly, his body relaxed. Taut, hard muscles untensed, relief sluicing through his limbs like water, and he sat up fully, offering up an apologetic look to Danica*
She, and not the rope. Here, and not… the hill…
Danica’s body reflexively twitched backwards as Cale awoke with a startled bravado. In doing so, she almost flew off the edge of the rock and firmly set her hands against the gravel. Her chest heaved from the surprise, her cheeks filling with a ruddy complexion of guilty embarrassment.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…”
She placed a hand against her thumping heartbeat, her expression rather flustered. His own apologetic look had come around the same time as her own exclamation and now she fell silent. A quick shake of her head and she then placed a trembling hand on his arm.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Her blue orbs found his and they flickered with curiosity, her pupils dilating.
“Are you alright?”
Her brow was furrowed with concern, her lower lip caught between the bone-white of her teeth.
He nodded a little bursa escort in response to her question, and smiled, albeit lopsidedly. How could he tell her of the dream? Experiencing it almost nightly was torture enough, but to write it down, to spill out the memories that locked him in their grip with a relentless fervor would be beyond his wishes.
Cale leaned forward, then, unable to keep from rolling a long, slow glance along her body, and touched the hand which touched him in hopes of reassuring her. Worry should not cross her brow, he mused… there was too much beauty there to be sullied by the likes of worldly cares and fretting.
He felt a surge of fondness for her, despite himself, and cast a quick gaze toward his clothing nearby. The harp lay upon them, beside his book, and he took a breath that expanded the girth of his chest. Time could trudge by, a thousand lifetimes, and he would never be able to tell her all that tangled his heart. Somehow, he knew this, and even had he the tongue again to sing of his pain, to extoll the history that had piled up around him.. she could not.. would not… be the one.
He cared for Danica. Warmth flooded his eyes, and the smile grew softer. Cale lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip, slowly, his mouth warm against her cool skin.
Danica was thoughtful as his expression took on a troubled guise. She could not place what made her feel so for him. Her heart lurched at the pained look that had become engrained in his eyes. Sometimes, she wished he could speak, but the honesty was that he affected her more than any other she had met in her limited, yet experienced days. Words failed most times to do much more than express languid time-fillers of the weather and…much too often these days, convey anger. There was hardly comfort in words for Danica, and Cale certainly had none. In an odd, surprising way, she preferred it that way. Cale’s eyes, his body (which she was having difficulty keeping her eyes from sweeping over), his mouth…the way he would tilt his head, the dance his fingers would occasionally lay upon his harp…they made her emotions sweep wildly and moved her…yes…beyond anything her words could supply her with.
At the focus his gaze took upon her own body, a faint blush of awareness pinked her cheeks. She gave him a small, silly smile. She was not necessarily embarrassed of her nakedness, but was most definitely –aware- of it. She gave him a playful poke to his chest.
“And…exactly…-what- are you staring at?”
The corners of her supple mouth curled into a grin and she kissed his shoulder softly, her lips lingering on his flesh. Another moment of accepted and revered silence. She found comfort in the presence of Cale, and was still spinning webs of confused, yet delighted, thoughts in that head of hers.
And the lingering fog of the dream dissipated in the outright glow of Danica’s smile, the delight in her eyes at being the object of his attentions. He could not keep his own grin from his face, nor did he care to, for the elation he felt within her presence bolstered his mood. He would not, for the moment, allow the realization that he would soon leave this valley yet again to travel the winding, dusty roads in search of other towns, other taverns, other king’s halls in which to ply his trade. One did not live under the same roof for very long as a harper, but he wished for now not to think of this. Time in happiness, he had learned, was a short thing, ever elusive, like a deer in the woods. Once spotted, it could quickly flee, and leave behind it naught but memories of its passing, and a longing for it to return.
He lived… as many of his kind did… in the present. Here, now, with a head full of history and rhymes to be sung and spoken to those who needed the illusion of permanency of a name, the immortality of a deed…a strange irony, to be sure, but one that he was familiar with. Comfortable with. And now the present was calling him toward the feel of Danica’s kiss upon his shoulder.
Air rushed from his nostrils audibly, and he allowed his eyes to fall closed for a moment before smirking. In answer to his question, he aimed an index finger directly at her breasts, the tip dangerously close to a nipple. His brow tweaked upward and fell once again.
Danica stared at him a moment, then burst into a fit of giggles. She could not help herself. The serious set of his face, the earnest way he answered his question…it amused her. Turned her on, too. Oh God, his touch had left her reeling earlier, and even recalling what they had shared together turned her body into one big craving monster. He was not touching her now, however, but the proximity of his finger to her breast, the tease, the anticipation….she swallowed and grinned at him.
“You realise you’re a trouble-starter, don’t you?”
Her fingers found their way to the water’s edge of the lake and she flicked bursa escort bayan droplets at him playfully. With a coy grin, she picked up her clothes and tossed them off the rock.
“..those just get in the way.”
With that, Danica pressed her cheek to his, her mouth millimeters from his ear, brushing him with her breath.
“I gather you’re not regretting anything…”
It was a teasing remark, yet held a note of question in it. Their moment together had been sudden, unplanned. Indeed, before it occurred, Danica was unaware of how Cale felt about her, their friendship. They were comfortable around each other, yet not once had shared one syllable or written word about their –feelings-. Danica wasn’t looking for a relationship out of him, yet was naturally cautious and set to make sure what they had shared was…mutual. He had wanted it as much as her, she knew this, yet sex was a funny thing. It had a tendency to ruin things, or strengthen them.
She playfully licked his ear lobe and then gave his cheek a light kiss.
He merely nodded at her first question, slowly; eyes fixed upon hers, and dropped his hand to her knee. She could not disguise her need, the want which radiated from every curve of her supple body, and this was what kept him on his “troublemaking” course. Trouble, when it came in such delightful packaging, was unable to be resisted. He had been a man of the world long enough to read even the slightest of body language in his time, and hers? Was not so subtle. Neither, he imagined, was his. How could it be, when it, and the canvas of his face, were the only thing with which he could paint the lines of communication between the two of them, when his book and pen were both out of arm’s reach?
Even as he dodged the water flicked at him, reaching out a hand to grasp her wrist with a silent chuckle, Cale wondered about Danica. Where had she come from? Wrapping his arms automatically around her body when she leaned in, the man shook his head, breathing in the scent of her still-damp short hair. Regrets? None, if she had none, either… None were to be had as of now, but who knew what the future would bring? And a day away seemed an eternity.
Her kiss pleased him. Turning his head, he pulled her close to him, up onto his lap, should she wish to do so, and idly ran his fingertips down the landscape of her back, along her spine… then up again once more, to the nape of her neck before burying his face against her shoulder. Nibbling… the pink dart of his tongue flicking at her faintly salty skin with an ease and comfort of a man who had nowhere else to be… nor any want to change the fact.
She slid easily into the warmth of his lap and curled her legs over his, her toes a little cold. At his hot breath and tongue against her neck, she let out a long sigh. Her head dropped back slightly, exposing more of her throat to his tender kisses. How long had it been since she had experienced the touch of a man? Years…not since…ah yes. But she didn’t want to think about him. He was not here…Cale was, and his sultry touch was making her shiver. Her neck was sensitive to attention, and she could not ignore the desire rising from her loins. She let out another lusty groan and ran her fingers through the thick of his hair, clutching, pulling at it.
Her arms dropped and encircled their way to his back, slight clawing. Hissing in an excited breath, she smiled crookedly.
“If this is what I get, I may never get dressed again.”
A light, amused laugh. She cupped his chin with a slender hand and brought his lips to hers, her kiss gentle, tender. She was flushing hot and cold. The air had chilled since earlier, and they had been naked for a while. Yet his touch, his lips, they set her in warm trembles. After so many polite conversations the two of them had shared, this was a wild trip, and surreal escape from reality, it seemed. They were here at an obscure lake, no one else around, the sun mysteriously bright and warm just for them, and enfolded in each others’ arms. Danica had no way of pondering what would happen once this day was over. The passion they had for each other seemed inexplicable yet undeniable…would it all disappear? Would it –have- to?
Danica forced these thoughts away from her. She was too content and would kick herself if allowed to ruin it.
Cale smiled at her moan, closing his eyes as lips met with skin, dancing across the curve of her neck and down toward her collarbone. Still, he moved slowly, in no rush to hurry things as he had done before. He hoped for time afterwards to speak with her, writing his thoughts and questions upon the cream-smooth paper of his journal, but did not wish to break the spell that wrapped the two of them up in its heated coils at the moment.
Though unable to speak, he was far from soundless. A shivering, thin gasp escaped him as Danica drew her nails across his back, and the bard grinned at her words, her laughter, escort bursa seeing light and beauty upon that happy face. He knew not of her worries, her hopes, and had pushed aside his own, unwilling to let them enter his head once again, reveling in the enjoyment she found in him. For a moment, he pulled away, staring at her, letting his eyes range across her features, before stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers…
And, tilting his head to watch his own actions, Cale’s caress skimmed downwards along her arm, over the plateau of her sternum, and then paused to gingerly cup a full breast. Emerald green eyes flicked to meet with Danica’s, to gauge her reaction even as he lightly pinched the nipple between thumb and forefinger.
The moment was warm, tender…Cale’s caress persistent yet gentle, sounds between them expiring melodiously, intertwining and melting into the other’s gratification. Danica was having difficulty comprehending where her flesh ended and his began as she watched his fingertips drag lazily across the smoothness of her skin, tracing her curves with tantalizing slowness.
At the pause of his movement across the landscape of her body, she drew in an ill-composed breath, a shiver racing itself like blue lightening down the curve of her spine. The moment, that slight hesitation, hung deliciously suspended in the air encompassing the two lovers. And then it was falling on her in a cascade, around her, within her…spilling across her insides, surging through her chest cavity and encouraging the drag of her breath to be ragged, forced.
The warmth of his hand engulfed her breast, his fingertips searing heat into her flesh. At the pull of her nipple, the tentative glance he then flickered across to her, her stillness evaporated, and her head lolled backwards, hair spilling in waves to her shoulders. Her mouth opened almost in slow motion, her coral lips parting and twinging ever so slightly at their corners. A long, throaty sigh expelled itself, and her body twitched noticeably.
*her breath was broken, caught in a limbo of elation. She returned her face level to his, her cerulean orbs catching the waning sunlight, enriching the depth of blue they already portrayed. She searched him out, flickering over the jade of his eyes. She had been catapulted into a fantasy she formerly deliberated beyond experiencing and her mind was swirling.
Beneath her warm body, he could feel himself growing hard once again. It strained for freedom, seeming to seek out Danica’s heat with a mind of its own, needing to plunge deep within her once again.
And still, his hand worked, slowly squeezing her breast, thumb flicking over the stiffening nipple. His own breath had grown ragged in response to hers, and with a little quirk of his mouth, he dipped those calloused, slender fingers lower, expertly teasing responses from her until those digits reached the border between snowy skin and the forest of dark hair pointing toward her nether regions. He enjoyed this, beyond words that could be spoken or sung, beyond any explanation that could be held within the volumes of a thousand books.
His breath whickered across her cheek as he turned an eye downward, and slipped his hand suddenly between her legs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
She sucked in a breath, suddenly finding her head caught in a swarm of dizziness. His fingers probed with near delicacy and close precision. With each tweak of his digits, her thighs twitched and her mouth danced along sometimes silent, sometimes raucous groans of rapture. Her slender hands clutched at his shoulders, snatches of skin reddening to her prints. She lifted herself slightly, curling her head into the nook between his throat and smooth shoulders. Her lips found his flesh, nipped at it.
She was pushing at him, her chest connecting with his, driving his upper body backwards. Her knee established a position at his crotch, the pressure of their aft motion kneading into the rigidity of his member. In another instant, her lips had found his, and her own hand was slipping dangerously below his navel. Her fingertips brushed at his groin, creeping along his thigh, squeezing…but never once grasping at his manhood. Teasing caresses drifted all over his body, feather-like…
Danica pressed against him, their bodies now horizontal, the warmth of his flesh engraining into hers. Her mouth moved from his lips to his ear, a small nibble to his lobe and then her tongue was snaking its way down his neck, her breath scorching and rapid.
Cale continued his lazy pattern, quickness no part of his nature now. His fingers squeezed the tiny nubbin at the core of her center, then slid between the hot, slick lips. Back and forth he stroked, leaning his head against her shoulder even as her lips discovered him. He cradled her close, his green eyes half-closed, lips parted. He could smell her from here, that hot, heady scent that magnified his need for her. The smell which defined her as woman, as beauty, as lust and love and nature and fire and all of the primal things barreling toward his senses like a raging bull.
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