Chapter 24 Araphi #2
But Sage is injured, and Araphi might love her. She can be content to just hold the ranger in the warm water while they both rest.
Sage shifts in her arms. “Can you do me a favor, Bard?”
“Anything,” Araphi breathes. She presses a kiss to Sage’s shoulder. “Just ask.”
“Help me wash?”
Araphi hadn’t expected that, but of course she can do that. She lathers up the soap on the cloth. The smell of jasmine and rosemary fills the air. Slowly, she begins to rub circles along the top of Sage’s shoulders, along the wings of her shoulder blades and then down her spine.
Sage makes a contented noise at the touch. “You’re trouble, Bard,” Sage says, relaxing into the touch. “But exactly the kind of trouble I like.”
“You’re exactly the kind of trouble I love, Ranger.”
Sage’s shoulders stiffen at the words, but Araphi scoffs, fighting to conceal the true intention behind the words.
“It’s an expression; calm down. Now, let me wash all of you, yes?”
“Yes.”
Carefully, Araphi moves from behind Sage in the tub—wider than would be required for just one bather—so she’s now in front of the ranger.
Sage’s head tilts back against the edge as Araphi leans forward to kiss the ranger, long and deep.
Candlelight gilds Sage’s skin and Araphi drinks in her lines, the small scars that cover her body, the contours of her muscles.
She feels almost drunk. Unlike in the hot springs or even the tent, tonight this leather-tough and steel-strong woman is laid bare before Araphi in every way, and she gets to take care of her.
Tenderness nearly knocks Araphi over, and her hands shake as she lathers more soap onto the cloth.
Slowly, she runs the sponge along the cups of Sage’s shoulders. Her fingers follow the sponge, tracing each inch of Sage’s skin a moment after she washes it. Sage practically purrs at the touch, leaning into it, looking more relaxed than she has for days.
Araphi takes her time, moving her hands and the cloth over the willow branches of Sage’s collarbones, the hollow at her throat, the curves of her biceps, and the apricot swell of her breasts. Slowly, she takes one of Sage’s nipples in her mouth, nibbling at the edge.
Sage squirms and Araphi circles the nipple with her tongue, enjoying every pebble and ridge of it.
Delicious.
“Bard,” Sage gasps. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you’re relaxed.”
She cups Sage’s breast appreciatively, and then moves on to the other nipple, teasing it until Sage grips her hair, pulling her mouth upward for a kiss.
A line of bubbles slides along Sage’s sternum, and Araphi’s fingers follow them lower. Down the planes of her stomach. Over the curve of her hips. Skirting the valley between her thighs.
“How is that, Ranger?” She washes her ankles, her calves, and then the length of her legs.
“Exceptionally good, Bard.”
“Shall I keep going?”
Another candle flares to life in the small bathroom and the smell of something savory floats in from the kitchen.
“The magic seems to think so.”
“And what do you think?” Araphi’s fingers trace circles around the soap bubbles on Sage’s lower belly, moving her hand between Sage’s legs, lightly twisting her fingers through the curls at Sage’s center, skirting ever closer to her undoing.
A long hiss escapes Sage. “I think I won’t last very long if you keep that up, Bard.”
“Excellent news.” Araphi leans forward, kissing Sage, while also slipping her fingers between Sage’s thighs.
Working carefully, deliberately, but more gently than she did in the hot springs because Sage is injured, Araphi brings Sage to the edge.
“Oh, Bard,” Sage whimpers, her fingers digging into Araphi’s shoulders. “I need your mouth on me, but I don’t want you to drown in this tub. Can you help me to the bed?”
“With pleasure.”
Araphi washes herself quickly and then lifts Sage out of the tub.
After they dry off—Sage, with much assistance and attention—Araphi helps her to the bed, their arms tangled around each other, then wraps her knee with a strip of cloth she tears from the bedclothes.
Yet another sin committed against the cabin’s owner, whoever they are.
Once that’s done, she crawls atop the ranger, who opens for her with every touch.
Every kiss. Every small lick and caress.
All of Sage is laid bare before Araphi on the bed, inviting her in.
Araphi kisses a line along Sage’s inner thigh, whispering closer to her center.
She hovers there, savoring the heat emanating from Sage.
“Are you in pain, Ranger?” she says, lowering her mouth so it’s just above Sage’s curls.
“Enough teasing. I need your mouth on me now.”
“All you had to say, Ranger.”
Araphi spreads Sage with her fingers and licks a line upward, seeking out the pearl hidden among her valleys. Sage tastes like salt and summer and something sweet Araphi cannot remember, but that feels like honey on her tongue.
“Oh gods, Phi, yes.” Sage’s gasps encourage Araphi, each noise a spur to action and a challenge in its own right.
Araphi persists, her tongue delicately playing music at Sage’s center as she slips a finger inside her.
“More, please,” Sage begs.
Araphi obliges. She adds another finger and works at Sage like she’s playing a ballad on her lute. Like she’s stringing a crowd along. Like she’s enjoying her favorite instrument.
Sage’s hips rise to meet Araphi’s mouth, filling it. Araphi wraps her lips around Sage’s pearl, dragging her tongue along it. Sucking and playing the tune of Sage until she sings.
Until she falls apart. Until she’s gasping Araphi’s name.
Araphi sits back on her heels, pleased, full, but so very hungry for more. The cabin hums with magic.
“Your turn,” Sage says, pulling Araphi closer.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“I’m fine, Bard. Just…be careful.”
Moving delicately, Araphi straddles Sage on the bed, balancing so her weight isn’t on the ranger.
Hunger burns through Araphi, insistent as the wind outside the cabin.
Sage’s hands are everywhere. The ranger’s skilled, confident fingers cup Araphi’s breasts, her rough calluses rubbing against Araphi’s nipples until they stand at attention. It’s lovely, but Araphi is impatient.
She moves Sage’s hands lower. Sage nods her understanding. She grabs Araphi’s bottom with one hand while the other caresses her center. Araphi seeks more pressure, pushing against Sage’s hand.
Again, Sage understands immediately. She slips several fingers inside Araphi, curling them as she finds a beat. Steadily, insistently, she takes Araphi apart. Araphi rides Sage’s fingers, touching herself all the while.
“I can’t hang on, Ranger,” she pants.
“Then let yourself go.”
Araphi does, riding waves of desire, moving her body up and down on Sage’s hand.
Once she comes back to herself, she sniffs the air, and finds that the smell of freshly baked bread and simmering soup fills the cabin. “I think the magic just made us dinner,” she whispers against Sage’s shoulder.
“Good. I’m starving.”
Somehow, through magic more powerful than its homely setting would let on, two steaming bowls of vegetable soup wait for them at the table.
There’s fresh bread too, golden butter, and two glasses of cider.
It’s a ridiculous bounty, and one that Araphi knows she should be suspicious of, but she can’t find the strength to worry about it tonight.
They wrap themselves in robes and Araphi assists Sage to the table. Sage props her leg on one of the empty chairs.
“Does it hurt too terribly?”
Sage laughs. “Only when I move it. But you’ve done a very good job making me forget the pain.”
“I can do it again and again, if it helps. My own version of a healing spell.”
“I’ll take you up on that after food and some sleep. Nearly dying really takes it out of you.”
“Indeed it does.”
Sage falls quiet at that, and Araphi recalls their conversation in the tent (how could she ever forget?).
“I’m sorry if any of this brought up memories.
Of…of Ollie,” she offers sympathetically.
Not wanting to talk about Ollie at all, but wanting to give Sage space to share.
To let Araphi know her. To trust her with all her secrets, as she just trusted her to take care of her tonight.
“What? Why would it?”
“Well, I don’t know the circumstances of her death, but—”
“My ex-wife is alive and well in Ashaway, last I heard. Ollie never died.” Sage grimaces as she adjusts the position of her leg atop the chair. “I did.”