When the log came into contact with the embers a shower of sparks erupted.
Small twinkling scraps scattered across the hearth. Beka stamped on those
that fell on the rug and floor. She left to die a natural death the ones
that fell on the stone hearth.
Tyr breathed in the aroma of the wood fire. The snap and hiss of the log as it caught fire was elemental. Deep inside where his essence resided he felt a profound need to set aside the machinations of power. He ached to recharge his spirit in the well of life that Beka carried inside.
"Do you think the traitor will strike again tonight?"
She did not turn to look at him, but threw the question over her shoulder as if it were some salt that she had spilled. She held her breath; her face scrunched in concentration, waiting for the rumble of words that would ease the fear for the future that consumed her.
"His plan has been thwarted. I expect he has aborted Plan A and is putting Plan B into action." The thud of a boot hitting the floor punctuated his answer to her question. "Tomorrow, we will be at risk. Tonight, we have been given a reprieve." His other boot hit the floor.
"We earned that reprieve." She turned from the fire, the fear beaten into submission like the embers. "What shall we do with it, Tyr?"
Her head was cocked to one side and her hands were on her hips. She stood with her legs apart. Her chin held high. She was the very picture of belligerence. What was he willing to sacrifice to witness the pleasure of submission on her face?
When she let go of her inner battle to live in the moment, she noticed for the first time the signs of aging. There was gray in the locs that dangled from his temples. Laugh lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. His physique still inspired lust, even though his waist was thicker than when they first met. He appeared to favour his right shoulder, using his left hand to finish the disrobing.
"I need to rest," he said, drawing back the bed linen, then sliding in to lie naked under the covers. "Care to join me?"
"Give me a minute."
With his head resting on a pillow, he watched her step into the en suite, closing the door gently behind her. While waiting for her he took inventory of his aches and pains. His nanobots seemed to take longer to set his body right than they used to take.
Beka ran a hot shower, steaming up the mirror and the glass that surrounded the shower stall. She stripped to stand under the moist heat until she could no longer tell the difference between her skin and the water. Tension seeped from the muscles of her neck. Tentatively she tried rotating her head. Noting an absence of pain, she rolled her head one-way, then the other. An invigorating rub of the towel over her body brought the blood to the surface, giving her a rosy glow. She hung the towel to dry, snapped off the light and climbed into bed with Tyr.
"After all these years, how is it that we find ourselves naked in the same bed with no self-consciousness?" He hoped she had an answer, as debate was currently beyond contemplation.
"Tyr, we have shared our vulnerabilities. Isn't that more intimate than naked skin? There is nowhere to hide anymore." She rested her head on his chest, her arms wrapped around his ribs. She settled her pelvis against his hip and her right leg blanketed his thighs. Then they slept.
The clock on the bedside table glowed 02:00. She had slept two hours so soundly that she was still draped across his body when she awoke. She listened to the rhythm of his heart. He was awake, but at rest. Her hand stroking his cheek brought him out of his reverie. "Did you sleep well?" He captured her hand to kiss the palm.
"Yes, better than I have in months." She bit lightly his nipple nearest her mouth. "And you?"
"Yes, I am refreshed and ready to fight for my son's birthright." He put his hand on one of her lower cheeks and began to knead the muscle. If only their partnership were not a ruse.
"Tell me more of the story, please, Tyr." His fingers were magic, she was turning to liquid. "When you left off, the couple was attempting to achieve the mysterious promised pleasure."
The First Father began with the pleasure he had already discovered a kiss. The First Mother returned it chastely.
"Like this." Beka placed her lips on his.
"Like that. But the First Father wanted more, so he tweaked her nipple, which caused her to gasp in pleasure and surprise. He took advantage of the opening and invaded her mouth. Like this."
Still kneading her lower cheek, his tongue invaded her mouth, sending a raging fire down her spine to the ends of her limbs.
The fathers say that to gain her trust he had to repeat his actions many times. The mothers say that his wife became bold, providing her own source of pleasure.
Beka pressed her fingers against the root of his manhood, between the sacs that held his genetic material. He moaned and his body began to resemble a force lance, smooth and rigid.
"Perhaps the mothers were right?" he moaned, writhing with pleasure.
Beka rolled onto her back. Tyr followed her, pressing his pelvis against hers, so that his legs spread hers apart.
"You do not want a wife. I do not want a husband. Is that correct?" Beka pushed her pelvis up and spread her legs wider.
"That is what we said." Could they find a compromise? Should they? "You have not answered my question. Do you want to be a mother?" He pushed against her well of life.
She raised herself by bending her arms and leaning on her elbows. Her face was millimeters from his. Their eyes locked, "Yes, cry my hormones. No, cries my common sense."
He stole a kiss then requested that she explain more fully. "I understand the influence of your hormones. Mine are demanding release, right now. But I do not understand your reluctance."
"A child is a lifetime commitment. My mother abandoned her commitment to me. My father, may the Empress bless him, tried to make up for it, but he failed as a single parent. What models have shaped my ability to parent? I certainly don't want my child to be conceived in a lab somewhere with an anonymous donor for a father. And - this is a stretch - what if I turned out to be a good mother? To want my first child to have siblings. How could I achieve that without further complications?"
Tyr sucked a breast into his mouth. He tongued and nipped her soft mound until she moaned in frustration. "Tyr, there is such an ache, a void that needs filling. What are we going to do?"
"If I father your child, tonight, the baby would be guaranteed a sibling. Tamerlane needs a brother or sister. If I father your child tonight, conception would be natural. Your child's father would not be anonymous if I were to provide the genetic material. I would be an involved father, ready to shoulder my share of the duties and pleasures of parenting." He ministered to her other breast, causing her to writhe and moan some more. "And I promise that I would father as many children as you desire. You would only need to ask."
"No marriage required?" She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled him down so that she could devour his tongue. When she released him, he was panting heavily, his control seconds from shattering.
"No marriage required by either of us. Although, should you wish to take a husband, or I a wife, we give each other first right of refusal." He slipped a hand between their lower bodies, seeking her pleasure button.
"Like an option to purchase?" She was amused at his suggestion, until his hand found the bundle of nerves it had been seeking. "Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh yessss."
Tyr breathed in the aroma of the wood fire. The snap and hiss of the log as it caught fire was elemental. Deep inside where his essence resided he felt a profound need to set aside the machinations of power. He ached to recharge his spirit in the well of life that Beka carried inside.
"Do you think the traitor will strike again tonight?"
She did not turn to look at him, but threw the question over her shoulder as if it were some salt that she had spilled. She held her breath; her face scrunched in concentration, waiting for the rumble of words that would ease the fear for the future that consumed her.
"His plan has been thwarted. I expect he has aborted Plan A and is putting Plan B into action." The thud of a boot hitting the floor punctuated his answer to her question. "Tomorrow, we will be at risk. Tonight, we have been given a reprieve." His other boot hit the floor.
"We earned that reprieve." She turned from the fire, the fear beaten into submission like the embers. "What shall we do with it, Tyr?"
Her head was cocked to one side and her hands were on her hips. She stood with her legs apart. Her chin held high. She was the very picture of belligerence. What was he willing to sacrifice to witness the pleasure of submission on her face?
When she let go of her inner battle to live in the moment, she noticed for the first time the signs of aging. There was gray in the locs that dangled from his temples. Laugh lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. His physique still inspired lust, even though his waist was thicker than when they first met. He appeared to favour his right shoulder, using his left hand to finish the disrobing.
"I need to rest," he said, drawing back the bed linen, then sliding in to lie naked under the covers. "Care to join me?"
"Give me a minute."
With his head resting on a pillow, he watched her step into the en suite, closing the door gently behind her. While waiting for her he took inventory of his aches and pains. His nanobots seemed to take longer to set his body right than they used to take.
Beka ran a hot shower, steaming up the mirror and the glass that surrounded the shower stall. She stripped to stand under the moist heat until she could no longer tell the difference between her skin and the water. Tension seeped from the muscles of her neck. Tentatively she tried rotating her head. Noting an absence of pain, she rolled her head one-way, then the other. An invigorating rub of the towel over her body brought the blood to the surface, giving her a rosy glow. She hung the towel to dry, snapped off the light and climbed into bed with Tyr.
"After all these years, how is it that we find ourselves naked in the same bed with no self-consciousness?" He hoped she had an answer, as debate was currently beyond contemplation.
"Tyr, we have shared our vulnerabilities. Isn't that more intimate than naked skin? There is nowhere to hide anymore." She rested her head on his chest, her arms wrapped around his ribs. She settled her pelvis against his hip and her right leg blanketed his thighs. Then they slept.
The clock on the bedside table glowed 02:00. She had slept two hours so soundly that she was still draped across his body when she awoke. She listened to the rhythm of his heart. He was awake, but at rest. Her hand stroking his cheek brought him out of his reverie. "Did you sleep well?" He captured her hand to kiss the palm.
"Yes, better than I have in months." She bit lightly his nipple nearest her mouth. "And you?"
"Yes, I am refreshed and ready to fight for my son's birthright." He put his hand on one of her lower cheeks and began to knead the muscle. If only their partnership were not a ruse.
"Tell me more of the story, please, Tyr." His fingers were magic, she was turning to liquid. "When you left off, the couple was attempting to achieve the mysterious promised pleasure."
The First Father began with the pleasure he had already discovered a kiss. The First Mother returned it chastely.
"Like this." Beka placed her lips on his.
"Like that. But the First Father wanted more, so he tweaked her nipple, which caused her to gasp in pleasure and surprise. He took advantage of the opening and invaded her mouth. Like this."
Still kneading her lower cheek, his tongue invaded her mouth, sending a raging fire down her spine to the ends of her limbs.
The fathers say that to gain her trust he had to repeat his actions many times. The mothers say that his wife became bold, providing her own source of pleasure.
Beka pressed her fingers against the root of his manhood, between the sacs that held his genetic material. He moaned and his body began to resemble a force lance, smooth and rigid.
"Perhaps the mothers were right?" he moaned, writhing with pleasure.
Beka rolled onto her back. Tyr followed her, pressing his pelvis against hers, so that his legs spread hers apart.
"You do not want a wife. I do not want a husband. Is that correct?" Beka pushed her pelvis up and spread her legs wider.
"That is what we said." Could they find a compromise? Should they? "You have not answered my question. Do you want to be a mother?" He pushed against her well of life.
She raised herself by bending her arms and leaning on her elbows. Her face was millimeters from his. Their eyes locked, "Yes, cry my hormones. No, cries my common sense."
He stole a kiss then requested that she explain more fully. "I understand the influence of your hormones. Mine are demanding release, right now. But I do not understand your reluctance."
"A child is a lifetime commitment. My mother abandoned her commitment to me. My father, may the Empress bless him, tried to make up for it, but he failed as a single parent. What models have shaped my ability to parent? I certainly don't want my child to be conceived in a lab somewhere with an anonymous donor for a father. And - this is a stretch - what if I turned out to be a good mother? To want my first child to have siblings. How could I achieve that without further complications?"
Tyr sucked a breast into his mouth. He tongued and nipped her soft mound until she moaned in frustration. "Tyr, there is such an ache, a void that needs filling. What are we going to do?"
"If I father your child, tonight, the baby would be guaranteed a sibling. Tamerlane needs a brother or sister. If I father your child tonight, conception would be natural. Your child's father would not be anonymous if I were to provide the genetic material. I would be an involved father, ready to shoulder my share of the duties and pleasures of parenting." He ministered to her other breast, causing her to writhe and moan some more. "And I promise that I would father as many children as you desire. You would only need to ask."
"No marriage required?" She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled him down so that she could devour his tongue. When she released him, he was panting heavily, his control seconds from shattering.
"No marriage required by either of us. Although, should you wish to take a husband, or I a wife, we give each other first right of refusal." He slipped a hand between their lower bodies, seeking her pleasure button.
"Like an option to purchase?" She was amused at his suggestion, until his hand found the bundle of nerves it had been seeking. "Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh yessss."