Gift of the Goddess (8 page)

She administered one last lick. Mother, he was sweeter than spiced wine! The pulse beat so hard between her thighs, she would not have been surprised to learn her heart had migrated there.

Payback time.

Dropping a kiss on the tip of Brin’s nose, she smiled seraphically, knowing he’d recognize the echo of his own patronizing caress. She watched his eyes turn molten and couldn’t be sure how much was anger and how much lust. “Do it,” she said softly to Trey, drawing back to observe Brin’s expression.

She’d thought he’d gasp at the first touch of the other man’s fingers, but she found she’d underestimated his control. Instead, the shaman’s breathing deepened until he’d achieved a regular rhythm, and his face retained that curious immobility.

Anje couldn’t see what Trey was doing, but she could guess. He must have Brin’s cock in both hands, because the broad, satiny head was slipping back and forth along her labial furrow, nuzzling her clit, teasing her entrance with its mouthwatering heat. Trey’s curly head brushed the back of her thigh and he turned his head to nip the curve of her ass.

The change was so minute, she almost missed it. Brin’s lower lip relaxed a fraction and his breath hitched, stumbling over the rhythm. His lashes swept down, concealing the goddess fire in his eyes. Anje felt a dark flare of triumph. She longed to push until she discovered his limits, but Trey’s play was making her crazy.

39 Denise Rossetti

“Hold him steady,” she ordered.

In the end, Trey’s assistance was only necessary to maneuver the head of Brin’s big cock into her body. A few gentle rocks and he slid halfway home, her sheath so oiled, it was superbly slippery.

“Lufra’s tits, that’s a beautiful sight,” muttered Trey. “You should see it, Anje. Your cunt’s so sweet, so small, and he’s pushing that great pole inside you. You’re stretched like a little drum around him, you’re so tight. Lufra, you’re killing me!” He reared up and wrapped an arm around her from behind, crowding close, pressing his chest into her spine.

Anje hung half-impaled, panting. The fleshy walls clasping Brin’s penis flexed with panic and arousal.

The shaman said between his teeth, “Let go, Trey. I’ve got her now.” Turning her head, she caught a flash of the younger man’s wicked grin and realized he hadn’t removed his other hand.

“Anje?” asked Trey and she wanted to crow.

She nodded and Trey nudged the cloud of her hair aside to lick her neck, just above the torque. He moved reluctantly to lounge at Brin’s shoulder, all flushed and rosy and beautiful. He breathed, “Go on, love.”

Anje inhaled carefully and dropped, sheathing Brin to the balls. He growled his satisfaction and arched up another fraction, nudging her cervix. “Ride me, scout, ride me hard.”

“Gods, yes!”

He felt like a tree trunk inside her, a forest giant, wedged clear up to her womb. His hands supported her and she began slowly, savoring the rub of his unyielding heat against the resilient walls of her sheath. Tremors of delicious sensation radiated through her belly and spine and she picked up the pace, using the strong muscles in her thighs, plunging up and down, drawing out to the head and ramming herself back to the root.

Brin fixed his flaming onyx eyes on hers. “Yes, scout.
Yes
!” His hips arched.

“
Anje!
” Trey rose to his knees, one hand pumping furiously. “Wait!”

He scrambled to his feet and stepped across Brin’s massive torso to face her. Involuntarily, she braced her hands on his firm thighs. It put her eye to eye with his cock, the head purple with frustration and wet with leaking desire.

She froze, Brin pulsing inside her like a well-tended furnace, and licked her lips.

Trey’s chest heaved and his shaft trembled in supplication, weeping clear fluid. The musky scent of his arousal invaded her senses.

Anje raised her gaze to the pleading hazel eyes. She cleared her throat. “A warrior of the Mother doesn’t…she doesn’t…”

Brin swiveled his hips and stroked gently in a circular motion. Anje moaned. Her clit burned. She could no longer see the shaman’s face, but his deep voice was full of greedy interest. “
Never
, scout?”

40 Gift of the Goddess

“Lufra’s cunt and clit!” swore Trey, tormented beyond endurance. “A virgin mouth! Just a lick, darling, please, please. I swear I’ll pull out before I offer. I swear.”

“No, no. I don’t…”

Brin growled, “Lean forward and open your mouth. I’ll do the rest.” He ran his hands over hers, up the outside of Trey’s thighs, his tanned fingers very dark as they bit into the other man’s fair skin. “Don’t thrust, Trey.”

“No,” agreed Trey shakily.

A warrior of the Mother didn’t
service
a man. But a warrior of the Mother took her pleasure as she willed.

Anje stared. Trey’s cock was long and beautifully formed. If it hadn’t been for Brin, she’d have said he was seriously hung. What the hell, he
was
seriously hung by any normal standard. Brin was simply awe-inspiring.

Her mouth watered. She extended her tongue and ran it over the smooth cap. Hot, salty. Trey whimpered.

The delicious prodding that was keeping her pussy just short of the boil stopped. “Get on with it, scout.”

She thought of what Brin could see through the vee of Trey’s spread legs. Her pubic curls and her belly, the lush hang of breast flesh if she leaned forward and took Trey in her mouth. She thought of him staring at Trey’s muscular body, the delicious indentations in the small of his back, his ass cheeks, tense and round with lust. He’d see the swing of the other man’s testicles, drawn up tight in their sac and the columns of his hard thighs, dusted with fine golden hair.

“Yes,” she whispered and did exactly as Brin had instructed.

The rewards were immediate.

Brin began to stroke gently and she was tipped forward, her lips sliding down Trey’s shaft. The sound he made was a cross between a groan and a sigh and it was the most lascivious thing she’d ever heard.

Encouraged, she wrapped her tongue around the head on the next pass. He sank his fingers into her hair. “Fuck, yes! Oh, sweetheart!”

Brin clamped his hands on her thighs and powered into her with long, steady thrusts. Her pussy heated again and glowed, vibrating with pleasure. Trey’s scent, his moans of joy, went straight to her clamoring clit. She tightened her lips, increasing the pressure, and Brin racked up the pace.

When Trey hit the back of her throat, she choked. “Pull back, man,” said Brin. “You’re too deep. Anje love, relax.”

Trey fisted the lower half of his shaft and Brin began fucking her in earnest, his magnificent cock ramming in and out of her pussy, jolting her mouth over Trey’s smooth solidity in a carnal rhythm. Anje hung on, her head reeling, her whole body screaming with pleasure. Great Mother, she’d never done anything so lewd in her life! With all her heart, she wished she could watch as well as participate.

41 Denise Rossetti

The thought of the erotic tableau they must present pushed her arousal up another excruciating notch.

There was no sound save gasps and curses and the wet suction of flesh on flesh—three minds, three bodies striving for the same culmination, utterly focused on a common goal, yet exquisitely aware of each other. Her heart lurched. Such a purely physical activity, but her soul soared with exhilaration. It wasn’t in a warrior’s life to gift another with outright joy. But she knew she was doing so now and elation surged through her.

Trey’s mumbles had become incoherent, his hands shaking against her scalp. Brin’s breath came in harsh rasps, his bronze skin sheened with sweat, the dragon curled around his loins glowing as if it was alive.

Anje’s orgasm gathered, building inexorably, a dark tide she could no longer gainsay. As if he knew, Brin grunted and thundered into her at a more acute angle. Her clit flared and the climax exploded. She screamed around Trey’s flesh, remembering at the penultimate second not to clench her teeth, and came and came like the world was ending.

Trey jerked free, groaning as though the heart was being torn from his chest, and splattered warm cream over her breasts and neck. Brin swelled deep inside her sheath, pulsing with every jet as the seed blasted its way the length of his shaft. The spasms were spaced seconds apart, each separate and distinct. She’d never felt anything like it in her life.

Long before he finished, she lurched forward and collapsed against Trey’s knee, the eyes rolling back in her head.

As if from a long distance, she heard Trey say, “Oh sweetheart,” in a voice choked with tenderness. “Here.” Warm hands laid her flat across Brin’s chest, helpless as a newborn babe. Someone stroked the length of her spine, drew idle patterns on the knobs of her vertebrae. When Brin finally slipped free of her body, she murmured a protest and was hushed and petted.

She roused when the shaman shifted her gently to her back and a warm, wet cloth swiped over her breasts and belly. “What?” She batted at his hands. “I’m all right.”

He ignored her, rinsing the cloth in the bowl Trey was holding. “Are you sore?”

“I don’t think—” The words dissolved in a gasp of pleasure as he parted her thighs and pressed the cloth over her sex. Then he wet it again and cleansed her thoroughly, as though she was an infant. Anje wriggled, certain she was blushing.

“Humor me.” Brin smiled crookedly. “You said I was a mother hen.”

“
Lufra, look!
” The urgency in Trey’s voice was so compelling, she was up on her knees looking for a weapon before she knew it. “
It’s started!
”

42 Gift of the Goddess

Chapter Six

Declaration 3

The Interim [Council?] names this planet Phoenix [note: meaning unknown] in recognition of the hope it represents. In this new world, may humanity rise from its own [ashes? fire? ruins?].

Translation of a Firster text by Miriliel the Burnished. (The fragment is preserved in the Royal Library in the Kingdom of the Leaves of the Sea.)

“What? Where?” Water slopped over the rim of the bowl when she jogged Trey’s arm.

Brin rescued it, setting it aside. “Gods man, why don’t you frighten the life out of her?”

Anje cast him a scathing glance. “Don’t be stupid. I’m not scared.” Brin glared back, returning her look with interest.

“What are you talking about, Trey?” she asked.

“The wings.”

“
Wings
?”

“Lie back for a minute.”

“Forget it,” she said flatly. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Your birthmarks, Anje.”

She looked down. “What about…” The words dried up. She’d never given much thought to the birthmarks below her hips. They were small and shiny and caused no trouble. She had neither the time nor the inclination for vanity.

Now they’d spread, both of them, but not in a blotchy way. Fine silver lines radiated across her belly and snaked over her hipbone toward the small of her back.

Dumbfounded, Anje’s gaze arrowed straight to the shaman. “What have you done to me?” she husked. “Am I sick?”

Brin slung a heavy arm around her shoulder and tried to draw her close, but she shrugged him off. “
What have you done
?”

“You’re perfectly healthy, Anje. Never better.” He rose and strode across the tent, the dragon riding his buttocks. Scooping up his discarded sarong, he knotted it around his hips. Thus armored, he said, “
We
haven’t done anything. It’s Lufra’s will.”

“Right.” What a typically male justification. Frowning, Anje licked her forefinger and rubbed at a silvery line. It didn’t come off, but a gentle tingle coursed through it.

She rose and faced Trey. “You tell me,” she ordered.

43 Denise Rossetti

Trey’s mouth opened and closed. He glanced at Brin, who watched the byplay with sardonic amusement. Then he shook his head. “Brin’s the shaman.”

“And you’re the big mouth,” said the dark warrior.

Trey bristled. “She’s not blind! She was going to notice sometime.”

“When I was ready.”

“For the one who’s supposed to be such an expert on women, you haven’t—”

“
Tell me!
” Anje roared, pushing her way between them. “Or I swear someone’s going to die!”

After a short, stinging silence, Brin sighed. Eventually, he said, “I had a vision.”

“You’ve said that. So?”

He picked up a leather thong from the camp table and wound it around his long fingers. “A vision of a woman who resembled the Goddess.

“Once would have been portent enough, but the dreams wouldn’t leave me.” He shrugged. “So we came after you, with the dreams as a guide. We’ve been tracking you a while, scout.”

“You’re joking!” How had she missed their presence? They must be superb at forest craft.