Taming the Queen of Beasts

RETH

As the first day drew to a close and the sun began to lower, settling over the mountains and turning the mountains purples and the sky a blazing orange behind them, Reth sat, his back to a tree, knees bent up and Elia sitting between his thighs, her back to his chest.

He stroked his fingers through her hair and she shivered under his touch, pressing into him, her backside wiggling against his groin and reminding him of that quiet afternoon. He let a growl of pleasure putter in his throat and she squeezed his knee.

When he'd learned that they would be flying, traveling with others, he'd insisted on bringing a tent. To face this they would need time alone, he knew. So he'd ensured they would at least be out from under other people's eyes.

But after traveling all night, weeping and exhausted, they'd barely eaten and gotten the tent up before they fell into the rolled furs together and immediately to sleep.

Reth had woken that afternoon, the sides of the light tent glowing with sunlight, but no sound except the gurgle of the nearby stream, and the light breeze in the leaves overhead. The campsite had been utterly quiet. The Protectors were taking shifts to watch, so while one of them would be awake, the birds could rest and sleep. Reth knew he should have taken his turn with the guarding, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to leave Elia, even for a second.

She was already curled up on her side, her back to his chest, but a few inches between them. He'd snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her back against him, waking her.

He hadn't even apologized for it. There'd been no need. The moment she opened her eyes, she'd whispered his name and when he'd dropped his lips to kiss her neck, she'd curled and arm back to cup his head and hold him against her.

"We'll have to be quiet," she'd whispered, so softly even an Anima wouldn't hear over the rustle of the leaves overhead.

Unable—unwilling—to resist, Reth had pressed against her backside, opened his mouth on her shoulder, slid his hand up to cup her breast, and set to the task of loving his mate as thoroughly, and slowly as he knew how.

He was still stunned when he thought of it, the images flashing in his head whenever she moved.

There under the tree, he grunted when she moved against his groin and she looked over her shoulder, a half-smile on her face. And despite the dark circles under her eyes, his very favorite wicked gleam was within them, too.

God, he loved her.

She leaned back, head twisted, obviously wanting to say something to him privately, so he tipped his chin down so his ear was next to her lips.

"There's no better feeling in this life, Reth, than when you're inside me."

Reth stifled the mating call and dropped his lips to her shoulder, forcing himself not to claim her again, then and there. After twenty years the scars were beginning to fade.

Instead, he satisfied himself with memories of their love-making just a couple of hours earlier.

Whether it was the desperation of the moment or the intensity borne of the need for silence, he swore he'd barely breathed the entire time, his body thrumming, pounding, humming, vibrating with need for her.

And Elia… Elia had come alive under his hands, unable to be still,

They'd twisted together like snakes, no air between them.

He'd started from behind her, but it had required too much space and he'd needed the intimacy of her embrace, so he'd flipped her onto her back and covered her.

At one point, he had both her hands gripped in both of his, extended over her head, and pinned to the furs. They arched together, joined from tongue to toe, even their legs entwined, and he would have sworn though they writhed on the dirt, that every thrust brought him closer to heaven.

He'd devoured her—her lips, her jaw, her neck, her breasts, his weary and aging body alive as if he were a teenager again. And she'd consumed him, taken his kiss and given it back, arching into his suckle, embracing him, holding him within her as her mouth dropped open and she stopped breathing to stop herself crying out.

They'd reached their peaks together—a rare, but always satisfying experience—and as his body went up in cold flames, he'd breathed her name in a whispered roar that she swallowed with a kiss—

"You need to drink more, Reth," Elia said, snapping him back to the present. Then the little vixen leaned forward to reach for something but scooted back until her soft backside pressed and cradled his now-aching groin.

Reth almost groaned. He put a hand to her hip and held her close, his breath going shallow.

He didn't think it was an accident that the birds all found they suddenly had somewhere else to be.

Unfortunately, that could only be out of eyeshot, not sound. And they'd already taken down their tent, or he would have bundled her back into it for another round.

Instead, he satisfied himself with curling over her back and holding her, his arms wrapped around her, her little hands holding his forearms.

He opened his mouth, but all the words he had to say were sad, and he didn't want to feel any more sad. So instead, he kissed her temple, then nibbled her ear, then dipped his chin to kiss her shoulder, pulling the collar of her shirt open to reveal the claiming scars, and setting his teeth to them, though he didn't bite down.

"Mine," he whispered. "Only mine. Forever."

"Even to death," she whispered back, and her breath caught.

They both went still.

They both stayed quiet. Even when Elia turned her head, craning back to meet his eyes, neither of them spoke the words again. Instead, she twisted within his arms, took his face in her hands, and kissed him soundly.

When she was done, he opened his eyes to find hers locked on him. "I love you, Reth Orstas Hyerhyn. I love you to my bones."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to smile. "Well, there, you see? I would have said to my soul. Just yet more proof that I love you more."

Then, as they held each other, laughing, Reth buried his face in her neck and began to pray that somehow there was an answer to this that didn't mean losing her. That somehow the Creator had a plan they couldn't see.

Yet, not my will but yours, he vowed. You have never led me astray. I will go where you point. Just please… point her in the same direction.

His palms were sweaty when they finally got to their feet to lay together in the hammock for another night of travel.