Chapter 15
Fifteen
Zax awoke to find himself lying stomach-first on a cave floor. His cheek had been pillowed underneath a skirt that smelled of Fawn. His wounds were tended to and bandaged. But more importantly, Fawn was leaning over him with those big brown eyes.
“I had to pick some of the petals out,” Fawn explained, brushing her hands cautiously over his bandaged back. “I cleaned the tweezers as best I could, but we should keep an eye on them.”
Zax did not know what tweezers were. But he was happy to watch Fawn speak. She had been so worried about displeasing him before, he realized now. She was not worried anymore, plucking at his loincloth and telling him they should wash it the first chance they got.
“It’s been a day,” she continued. “I haven’t heard anyone around, but we should move soon. Errol won’t let us shame him like that. He’ll chase us down. I’ve been thinking, we should find your brother. What is his name again?”
“We do not know,” Zax reminded her. “He has never told us. How is your ankle?”
“What? Oh.” Fawn twisted to look at it. “I’m fine. I won’t be up to any hikes, but I’m okay for short distances.”
“I will carry you,” Zax promised.
“Okay,” Fawn said, sounding grateful. She pulled her jacket tighter.
It was colder up here, Zax could tell from the icy air, even though he could not feel it as much as she did.
At least they would not have to reach the mountain peak, where there was still snow.
His brother lived on the other side of the mountain, near the base.
“We can get, well, we can get the spells you wanted us to get,” Fawn said in a rush. “But we can also ask your brother to help us fight them off! He’s older, right? That means he’s bigger. And harder to kill. If we combine our forces, we’ll be able to take down those three easily.”
She pulled her pack open and began rummaging through it.
Zax sat up cautiously to peer inside. There was a hole in it where she had caught one of the first arrows. He could spot clothes and bandages and full waterskins, plus the knife she had used to threaten Errol. And—
“The jerky I made you,” Zax said, surprised.
Fawn caught him looking at the bag of jerky and sighed. “I found it in my pockets when they took me back. I thought it could be useful on our journey. Are you hungry?”
Zax was rarely hungry; he mostly ate for satisfaction. “No. But I would like some.”
She tore a strip of jerky in half and gave it to him. He took it gladly, relishing the brush of her fingers against his own. They sat there, chewing on their halves of the jerky strip while the afternoon light shone into the cave.
Zax watched her jaw work, overjoyed at the simple fact that she was there to be watched. Fawn, here, now! Of her own free will! He should never have kidnapped her. He knew that now. But he was glad he had, for it had led them here to this moment. She would pledge herself to him now, forever.
“I will let you go,” Zax said suddenly. “If you ask.”
Fawn looked up at him with eyes that were both happy and deeply sad—an expression he had seen often from her, and had not known why until now.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “And the same to you.”
“Of course.” Zax touched her hair, brushing a curl away from her eyes.
Fawn caught his hand. “That reminds me. I kept meaning to tell you, I’m sorry for my hair.”
Zax waited for her to explain. But she only sat there, holding his hand apologetically.
“Why?” Zax asked. “What is wrong with it?”
“It’s… well, it’s very short,” Fawn said. “Not very ladylike.”
She laughed. Zax would have laughed with her if he were not injured and tired and so in love he could not concentrate.
“Fawn,” he said. “My love. Do you think I, a Skullstalker, care what length your hair is?”
Fawn laughed again. Properly this time, all light and shock.
“I suppose not,” she said. She pulled at her curls, eyeing them with curiosity.
Zax caught her curls and twined them gently around his claws. “Your hair is beautiful. The way it curls brings me joy. But I would also like it long. Which do you like?”
“I don’t know,” Fawn admitted, hushed. “But I want to find out.”
She stared up at him, her eyes bright. There was something fiery in them, and for once, she did not try to hide it. She clenched her jaw, and he saw all her thorny anger play out on her face as the scent of fury rose between them.
“What is it?” he asked. “You are upset.”
“I’m just—” Fawn shook her head. “Gods. I wasted so much time being obedient. I could have lived that way my whole life, if you hadn’t…”
She trailed off. She did not want to talk about him taking her, he realized. Or maybe about her husband’s death. There was so much dangerous territory in their pasts, and Zax did not want to hurt her with it. Even though he had, and he had fooled himself into believing he had not.
“Fawn,” Zax began.
Fawn kissed him. She climbed into his lap and rubbed his horns, smoothing her thumbs over his broken horn and sending a shudder of pleasure through his beaten body.
“I want—” Fawn ducked up for another kiss before continuing. “I want to know everything I like. I want to know what it’s like to be with someone who truly cares for my pleasure.”
“You do know,” said Zax, confused.
“I don’t know enough,” Fawn said determinedly. She rubbed his soft stomach and brushed her fingers gently over the bandage on his side, then ran her hand down to cup the bulges growing under his loincloth.
“There’s so much left to find out,” Fawn declared, moving against him. “Do you think…?”
She stopped.
Zax nosed at her forehead. “Do I think what?”
“Nothing,” Fawn said. “I was going to suggest you could… you know. With both of them.”
She squeezed the bulges under his loincloth, pressing them together. Zax held them hard, fluid jolting from the tips and running down his shafts.
“We can’t,” Fawn continued, sounding disappointed. “Not here. I don’t have any… well, we would need slick, right?”
“Not with the spell,” Zax said raggedly. It was one of the many things his brothers had educated him about during their teachings. “You will stretch. There will be no pain.”
“Oh.” Fawn blinked rapidly, her cheeks delectably pink. “Gods. Okay. We should go find your brother.”
Zax nodded. “Now?”
“No, not yet.” Fawn smiled, then leaned toward the mouth of the cave to peer out at the surroundings. Satisfied, she leaned back so her full weight was resting in his lap. “You should rest.”
She rubbed him once more through his loincloth. Zax groaned, letting his head thunk back against the cave wall.
“Is this restful?” he panted.
Fawn hesitated. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” he said in a rush.
Fawn smiled again. She would know what he meant. Despite his injuries, he was not in enough pain to turn her down. Not with her intoxicating scent filling the cave and her hand rubbing at him so hungrily.
“Let me do the work,” Fawn said. For a moment, she looked shy, as she sometimes did when they did this.
It made Zax wonder how much she had been herself when she mated with her old husband, or if she turned meek and quiet and let him do whatever he wished.
Then he forced himself to not wonder about it, because he did not want to hurt her in his frustration.
Fawn freed his cocks from his loincloth. Then she shuffled up and guided his lower cock to her hole. She pushed down against it, her brow wrinkling in annoyance when it did not fit.
“You must open up for me first,” Zax reminded her.
Fawn looked annoyed. “I never had this problem before you.”
“Your dead husband’s cock was very small.”
Fawn laughed. Then she slipped her fingers underneath her dress and started to finger herself, holding up her dress so he could watch.
Zax stared, enraptured. She was getting wetter—even if he couldn’t hear the wet noises, he could smell her delicious scent. Fawn’s cheeks flushed even redder, her mouth falling open as she stretched her hole, getting herself ready for him.
“Okay,” she breathed after a minute of determined fingering. “Come here.”
She knelt above his lap again, gripping his lower cock. It jerked under her touch, and she ran a finger over the pointed glans, collecting the fluid that pearled up top.
“I love how wet you get,” she said. “They’re both so shiny. I want to lick them.”
“Please,” Zax choked.
Fawn grinned so wide it stole his breath.
“Later,” she assured him. Then she pressed his lower cock to her hole again. After some gentle rocking, it slipped inside.
They groaned in unison. Zax took her hips, squeezing as hard as he dared.
Fawn lifted herself up and down. Each time he took her deeper, until he felt his cockhead hit her limit. There was still at least an inch of his lower cock not inside her.
Fawn moaned. This time, the noise sounded frustrated.
“You will take all of me after the spell,” Zax reminded her. “Until then, we have this. Does it feel good?”
“Yes,” Fawn sighed. She ground down against him, her brow furrowed once more, as if she was trying to find something. Then she reached down and took his upper cock, which was sitting just above her hole. She rubbed her clit against it, and Zax whined at the sensation on both his cocks.
He wanted her naked so badly. He knew why they shouldn’t—they were hiding from hunters in some mountain cave, and even if they were not, it was probably too cold for a mortal.
But he could not help but push her dress up until he exposed her breasts, pink and pert, bouncing every time she lowered herself on his cock.
Her eyes were squeezed shut. Zax took her chin, hoping to see those deep brown eyes that made him feel like he was chasing his prey.
All at once, they opened. Fawn kissed him. Then she bit his lip so hard that he almost expected it to burst open. He pulled back in alarm, thinking he might have done something wrong, only to find her smiling once more.
“Say my name,” she commanded.
“Fawn,” he replied, instant and worshipful.
Fawn groaned, bouncing faster on his cock, holding his upper cock against her clit. “Tell me how good I feel.”
“You feel so good,” Zax said, struck dumb with it. “I do not know how I went so long without you. I would do anything to keep you.”
Fawn moaned louder, dropping her head against his chest. She rode him faster, the slick noises of their mating filling the cave along with her intoxicating scent.
“Tell me,” she gasped. “Tell me what you love about me.”
“I love your scent,” Zax said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could decide whether they were good or not.
“I love your voice, the way it rises when you do not hold yourself back. I love feeling you against my chest when I wake. I love how you feel when I bathe you, your warm, wet skin. I love the anger you try to hide; I love it when you bare your teeth. I loved it when you sunk that knife into that man’s hand. I wanted to watch you rip him apart.”
Fawn made a triumphant noise against his chest. “I would have! Gods, Zax. If I had fangs like you, I would have ripped him apart. Tell me—” She broke off to gasp, her expression growing desperate as she rode him even faster. “Tell me how it felt to eat my husband.”
At any other time, Zax would have been shocked. He was still shocked, a little bit, but it was difficult to feel anything but pure ecstasy from his beloved wife riding him with such abandon.
“It excited me,” Zax gasped. “It is always exciting. I love to feel their heart-blood burst in their mouth. Their skin tearing. Their bones cracking. How helpless they are underneath me.”
Then he faltered, fearing he had spoken too much. Mortals did not want to hear of those things, yet another thing his brothers had told him.
“I would never hurt you,” he started.
Fawn cut him off. “No, I know. Keep talking.”
She stared up at him, her gaze eager and attentive. She was truly enjoying this, a strange, savage smile taking over her face as she neared her peak.
Zax let go of her hips to run his hands through her short curls. “If I knew he had treated my future wife so badly, I would have made it last. I would have had him suffer. I rarely kill in anger, only in joy. But I would have killed in rage, for you.”
Fawn shuddered and stilled, her mouth opening in a sharp cry as she came. Her hips jerked weakly, her hole tightening around him so intensely that there was nothing he could do but cling to her and come, spilling deep inside.
The first orgasm was always a relief. But it never made him fully satisfied. His other cock was still throbbing, brushing against Fawn’s clit every time she moved.
Fawn twitched with oversensitivity and knelt up. His lower cock slipped out of her, and Zax watched, enraptured, as his come spilled down her shaking thighs.
Fawn gripped his broken horn and twisted his face to look at her. Her brown skin was flushed and bright, chest heaving with the shocking excitement of what they had just admitted to each other. And she still smelled of that glorious arousal, even as their combined release dripped down her legs.
She kissed him hungrily and said, “Put the other one in.”