The Dance of the Talbuk and the Clefthoof
Though the Redwalker women were patient with her, Joanne struggled. The Orcish tongue was not easily mastered. The words were not like those she knew, and few among the Mag'har possessed the skill to write them down. The anticipation of what would come once the dress was completed distracted her thoughts, and made memorization difficult.
The next few days became routine. In the morning, she accompanied Kashka to the council hall. Over the course of the day and through the mid-day meal, young women of the Mag'har – not all of them Redwalker – came and went, offering advice and assistance. When all was said and done, Joanne would be able to boast that nearly every woman's hand in Garadar took part in the making of her dress.
Joanne thought her face must be on fire; much of the young women's well-meaning advice, embarrassingly translated by the ever mild and unflustered Greatmother, was in regards to coupling. She had no idea there were so many ways to do it! While her mother's words on the subject were strained as she struggled not to terrify her daughter, Joanne was often unable to separate the gentle words from the haunted look in the woman's eyes. Every word from her mouth seemed to be a lie she knew she told but felt obligated to tell anyway. Yet in hearing these women giggling over first time clumsiness and boasting of the prowess of their lovers, Joanne's uncomfortable memories seemed to fade into insignificance. She grew impatient for the day of the Asking to come more swiftly.
By evening each day, she knew a few more words, and was a little less nervous about lying with Fentulk. If not for the one spot of discomfort that remained, she might have been eager to accompany him immediately.
The place of the Asking, the islands in the sky, were outside. There were no discreet walls or doors that could be closed and so afford them a measure of privacy. If others performed similar rites on any of the nearby islands, all that she and Fentulk did would be seen. Joanne just could not put that worry out of her mind.
After the family meal, Joanne joined Fentulk for a long walk before retiring. When she dressed for bed, she applied the salve to her tattoos that eased the itching as she healed. Each night, she slept comfortably and with pleasant dreams.
On the fourth day after the Trial, Kashka led Joanne back to the family home for the mid-day meal. The dress was finished; Joanne had never seen anything like it, much less worn something so... revealing. Even to one as inexperienced in these matters as Joanne, it was obvious the dress was made for easy removal. The two panels were made of soft talbuk doeskin and laced tightly on one side from the left shoulder to the bottom of the hem that brushed her ankles. On the other side, however, there were only loose ties at the right shoulder, the ribs, the hip, and the knee. A good deal of flesh was exposed between those ties, as well as across the bosom. The bodice was cut low in the front; far lower than anything Joanne had ever seen.
The dress was not made to be worn with underclothes. The thought of being so vulnerable in Fentulk's arms made her shiver.
While the design of the dress was simple, the decoration was not. Foremost in the patterned beadwork and embroidery was the crest of the Redwalker clan. Surrounding the crest were symbols of fertility, she was told, as well as marks specific to the other clans that made up the Mag'har in Nagrand, and represented the many women who helped with its making. Joanne watched with pride as Fentulk and Tagdish admired the finished work.
"It's... it's beautiful," Fentulk whispered in awe, slowly running his fingers over the beading. A lump formed in his throat; joking with his da over the oft-used leggings aside, Fentulk could almost feel the eyes of his ancestors on him, making certain the old ways were kept alive. He would one day pass those leggings on to their son, and Joanne would give this lovely dress to their daughter. The Redwalker clan would carry on.
The thought of Rugak, the lone survivor of the once-proud Whiteclaw Clan, returned, and Fentulk bowed his head. So much was lost by that one cruel and heartless act. He could only hope that Rugak would one day have the strength to find another mate and keep the clan alive.
As if ushered in by Fentulk's troubled thoughts, Rugak appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, clearing his throat to call their attention. Joanne had not seen him before and so did not know who he was at first.
"You came," Kashka said with relief, and strode across the hut to greet the Orc. Clasping his hand, she led Rugak into the house. "We were just preparing the meal. You are welcome to join us. Please, sit." Rugak awkwardly obeyed, keeping his gaze averted from both Joanne and Fentulk.
Rugak found himself seated at the table, staring down at the dress Joanne would wear soon. He slowly reached out and touched it, his fingertips barely making contact. Trembling, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.
"I'll just, uh... get that outta the way," Fentulk said quietly. He carefully lifted the dress from the table and left the room, glancing worriedly at his friend as he went.
Unsure what to do, or who this man was, Joanne looked from one Orc to another. Kashka could barely look at him, and Tagdish didn't even try. No one was moving to offer him anything.
Joanne had learned her way around the house over the last few days, and so felt relatively comfortable fetching the man a drink at least. She took a clean cup, filled it from one of Tagdish's flagons, and brought it to the table.
"Aka'Magosh," she said timidly as she placed the cup before the Orc.
His head jerked around and he glared hotly at her as though she had insulted him. Joanne retreated a few steps, shaking from head to toe. She didn't know the Orcish word for apology yet, and could only stammer in her own tongue, "I am sorry. Forgive me. I did not mean to insult you."
Kashka came swiftly to her side and put an arm around her shoulders. Joanne gratefully allowed the woman to steer her away from the Orc. But she could feel his eyes on her back as she was led into the sleeping chamber.
It was frustrating to be unable to explain or apologize. Had she mispronounced the words? Was it not her place to approach him at all? There was so much she didn't know! Joanne nearly wept, feeling that she had gravely offended the Orc but could say nothing to sooth his hurt feelings.
"What's goin' on?" Fentulk growled, meeting them coming in as he was on his way back to the kitchen.
"He didn't like what she said," Kashka replied, exasperated. "She only repeated what we've been teaching her. She spoke a blessing on him and his family."
Fentulk sighed and nodded. "I'll talk to him." Glancing at Joanne's confused face, he told her, "Yuh didn't do nothin' wrong. That's Rugak. He... he's gonna take some... some work."
"Oh," Joanne replied, the light dawning. "That is your friend. Fentulk, please tell him I meant no harm. I just... I thought he might be thirsty, and I thought I should say something..." Her lower lip trembled.
"Yuh did all right," he reassured her. "Stay here for a bit. I'll talk to'im. Maybe... you can meet him proper in a little while." Joanne nodded.
When Fentulk returned to the kitchen, Rugak was still sitting at the table, but had turned on the stool to face him.
"That's her, then, eh?" the Orc growled.
"Yeah," Fentulk nodded. "Her name's Joanne. I won't be so nice as before if you go shoutin' ugly names at'er again."
Rugak let out a shuddering breath, then chuckled. Rubbing his chin, he muttered, "If that was 'nice' I'd hate to see yuh pissed."
"Get on the wrong side'uh me where Joanne's concerned," Fentulk warned, though his tone had softened somewhat, "and you'll see it."
Nodding, Rugak rose. "Didn't come to stay long," he said, glancing at Kashka and nodding to her. "Just wanted to... well, to have a look at'er. See if..." He stopped; the human was standing in the doorway to the sleeping room. She looked almost fragile to him, and clearly intimidated. Yet her eyes held none of the hate he'd last seen in a human's eyes, and none of the taunting or gloating over his grief. He didn't see pity, either. He saw sympathy and remorse. Apology. Understanding. These things were plentiful in the woman's eyes. "Just seein' if... she's the same as them."
Fentulk's eyes narrowed. "Whattayuh think?" he asked evenly.
After a moment, Rugak looked away from her. "Suppose I don't see the same thing at all." Bowing his head for a moment, he sighed. "Never took'er up. Wanted to, but... we was too far away." He clenched his jaw to keep his grief in check. "You... you go on up, Fen. Don't lose yer chance." Turning away, Rugak walked out of the hut.
Now that the dress was done, Joanne was able to spend the afternoon with Fentulk once more. Seated in the shade of a tree perhaps a dozen yards from where Tagdish fished, Joanne leaned against Fentulk's chest, his arm around her waist, and gazed up at the dozen or so little islands in the sky. He'd pointed out the one he preferred, and she found she rather liked it as well. She tried not to focus on how the island with bones sat lower in the sky than several others, or worry that perhaps when they ascended, they might not be alone.
But it was still troubling to her, and she found herself worrying her lip over it.
"Somethin' botherin' yuh?" Fentulk asked sleepily. The breeze was light and the sun warm. Apart from the plunk of his da's hook landing in the water and the quiet rumble of the falls not far away, the day was peacefully quiet. He only knew Joanne was out of sorts because she seemed to tense a bit.
"It isn't... easy," she said awkwardly. "I keep worrying..."
Kissing the top of her head, Fentulk said, "You don't have to. I ain't gonna... insist or nothin'."
Joanne laughed a little. "It isn't that. You will think I am terribly prudish."
"Whattaya mean?" he asked, furrowing his brow.
"We shall be outside," she whispered. "Anyone could... could see us."
Fentulk's head fell back against the tree as he laughed. "Sorry. You know, I've had to get used to things 'round here again. Forgot about a lotta stuff. Like flyin' up to an island once and havin' to move on 'cause some folks was at it on the one I aimed for. Or wakin' up in the night to take a piss and havin' to sneak past my folks all over each other..."
"Careful there, boy," Tagdish interrupted without turning around. "Ain't so old I can't hear yuh."
"Ain't so quiet the dead can't hear yuh, neither," Fentulk retorted with a grin.
"Cheeky," his father growled, shaking his head.
"Point is," Fentulk chuckled, "nobody's gonna sit there watchin'. It'll be like it's just the two of us, and nobody else in the whole world."
Sighing, Joanne snuggled closer to him. "How much longer until... Is there another ritual we must perform before we... go up?"
Fentulk's eyebrows rose and he looked down at her. "You, uh... ready, then?"
"I am ready whenever you are," she replied quietly, her cheeks coloring.
Swallowing nervously, he said, "How... how 'bout tonight?"
Smiling shyly, she said, "I have no other plans."
"Then I think... maybe we oughta make some."
The formal announcement to his parents of his intention to take Joanne to the island that evening caused an unexpected hurricane of activity.
"Tonight?" Kashka cried. "It's already past mid-day! So much to do..." Grabbing a startled Joanne by the hand, she marched the woman into the bedchamber. "Men! They never ask, and they never think ahead," she grumbled under her breath as she rummaged through a trunk. Each article she pulled from the depths was thrust into Joanne's arms until she was laden with drying cloths, a loose shift, and several corked earthenware bottles.
If Joanne was gnawing her lip anticipating being caught in Fentulk's arms on an island aligned specfically to that purpose, it was nothing to the embarrassment she experienced being stripped naked and bathed in the stream running alongside the family home. Kashka was brisk but thorough, ensuring the woman was washed head to toe and scented with oil made from dreamfoil.
To her complete mortification, several women going about their errands, and a few men as well, noticed their activities. At least two of the men grinned as they passed.
"Can't be helped," Kashka grumbled to herself, for Joanne's grasp of Orcish was still too weak for her to understand every word. "Had that bonehead son of mine mentioned his plans earlier, we might have done this properly." Still, she did her best to shield Joanne's tattoos from sight, even wrapping a cloth around her hips. Joanne wasn't nearly as concerned about her marks being seen as she was her breasts.
While his mother scrubbed Joanne within an inch of her life, Fentulk did the same below the falls and out of sight of his future mate. Tagdish couldn't bring himself to make it harder on his son; though the welts had been healed across Fentulk's back, they were hideous and numerous. He couldn't even touch him, fearing he might do Fentulk additional harm.
"Son," Tagdish ventured quietly while Fentulk dried himself off, "yuh sure yer up to this?"
Fentulk paused for a moment. "Da, I been wantin' to... to ask'er for awhile now. Maybe ever since I saw'er. I just knew. Maybe I been takin' her up there in my head for weeks."
"Well, maybe yer head's ready, but what about the rest of yuh?" Tagdish asked seriously. "Yuh said yer still hurtin'."
"I am," Fentulk nodded, pulling up his trousers. "Bits here and there. I ain't plannin' on fightin' an ogre, just makin' love with my mate." His breath caught, hearing those words spoken out loud.
"Well, you be careful," Tagdish said wryly. "Some women'll surprise yuh. Think you are fightin' an ogre when all's said and done."
Fentulk arched his brow. "You sayin' ma's a bit rough with yuh, da?"
"There's a bit of give and take there," Tagdish snorted noncommitally. "And I'll thank yuh to mind yer own business."
"You just keep yer business quiet and I'll stay out of it," Fentulk grinned.
"When'd we ever wake you up from yer beauty sleep, boy?" his father growled, putting his fists on his hips.
"Lost count, da," Fentulk replied with a shrug. "Got so I had to cover my head with a pillow." Laughing at his father's indignant glare, Fentulk whispered, "'Stand ready, soldier.'"
Tagdish narrowed his eyes. "You cheeky little..."
"'I hear and obey,'" Fentulk quoted, his grin broadening. "'Lok'regar, captain of my heart.'"
"That's enough'uh that!" his father barked, his brown cheeks darkening. "Just you wait, boy. Just you wait."
"Lookin' forward to it, da," Fentulk laughed.
The sun was low in the sky when Fentulk and Joanne finally faced each other in their traditional clothing. Though several days of rest had strengthened him considerably, Fentulk still found it difficult to master his emotions when he looked upon her. She was timid and nervous, unsure what to do with her hands. The dress clung to her body, following the curves of her breasts and hips. In the space between the ties on one side, he could just see the dark brown lines of her tattoo; his breath quickened with anticipation of seeing even more.
Tagdish tied a pack laden with blankets and pillows to one side of his wyvern's saddle, and another with fruit and cold meat on the other side. He'd stashed a flagon of honey mead with the food, just in case.
While Kashka fussed over the way her dress hung and made sure the ties would at least remain closed for the flight up, Joanne could only look at Fentulk and smile. She was ready for this. Perhaps more than ready. As her eyes fell to the embroidered panel hanging from the front of his belt, she suddenly recalled the advice of a young woman named Kraya.
"Move your hips with his," Kraya told her through Greatmother Geyah. "Make the talbuk dance with the clefthoof." When Joanne appeared confused, Kraya shifted her infant son into another's arms, spread her feet apart and bent her knees, then rolled her hips forward and backward. The display, though mostly serious, was exaggerated just enough to be lascivious. Her friends cheered and giggled, particularly at Joanne's blush.
The blush returned now, accompanied by considerable embarrassment at her thoughts. Glancing up at Fentulk's face, she saw that he was smiling gently. His smile turned rueful as he looked at his parents.
"All right, enough fussin'," he said. "Gonna lose the daylight."
"Just see that yuh take these packs off before yuh send the beast back," Tagdish reminded him. "Don't wanna have to wait on me or yer ma to fly'em back up."
"Yeah, I'll remember," Fentulk grunted.
"Go easy on her," Kashka said pointedly. "She'll have some pain and there'll be a little blood, most likely. You help her through it."
Fentulk frowned and shot a look at his father. "You didn't say nothin' 'bout pain and blood, da."
Chagrined, Tagdish muttered, "Guess I forgot."
"Yes, well, that's likely because I didn't bleed," Kashka shrugged. "Sometimes women don't. You just never know. Regardless, it'll sting a bit for her, taking you in, so make sure..."
"Ma, I got that talk from da," Fentulk interrupted. "You don't have to keep on. We'll figure it out. Can we go now?"
Kashka shot a nasty look at Tagdish, as if their son's cheek was entirely his fault, then said, "All right. Get going. The sun's almost gone."
Finally, Fentulk thought as he lifted Joanne onto the back of the wyvern. She had to sit sideways, for the design of the dress wouldn't allow her to sit astride. Fentulk carefully mounted behind her, taking care not to expose himself in the process.
"I'm thinkin' part of this whole thing is makin' yuh wear embarrassin' clothes," he whispered in her ear, making her giggle nervously. Taking the reins, Fentulk snapped them and kicked the wyvern's flanks. In moments, they were in the air.
Joanne clung to him tightly as the wyvern wheeled in a climbing spiral toward the chosen island. She hoped it wasn't being used; that particular one seemed to be of special significance to Fentulk. More arresting, however, was how he smelled. Quite beyond simply a clean smell, he'd obviously used something similar to the oils Kashka gave her. It was difficult to define, and she found herself leaning into him and breathing him in, trying to identify it.
There was nothing unpleasant about the scent. In fact, it seemed to arouse her, unless it was his nearness that inspired such feelings.
She was not the only one distracted by unexpectedly delicious smells. Fentulk's grip on the reins was tighter than necessary as he tried to concentrate on steering their mount and not diving his nose into her sweet-smelling hair.
Soon enough, Fentulk guided the wyvern to a landing on the small island. In the center of the grassy top stood two trees, one arching out over the edge, its leafy canopy held up in supplication to the heavens. Fentulk dismounted and handed Joanne down.
She'd come barefoot, and the feel of the grass under her feet was soft and cool. Unlike the soil below them on the ground, that of the island wasn't quite so compacted by the traffic of many feet.
As Fentulk removed their packs, Joanne gazed over Nagrand spread out below them, taking care to keep herself in the center of the island. Even at dusk, she could see for miles in every direction. The islands were below the clouds, so her vision wasn't obscured. Strangely, to the southwest she noted a tall white mountain, seemingly out of place on the flat plains surrounding it. She almost turned to Fentulk to ask about it, then stopped herself and smiled. Time enough for all her questions to be answered, all his stories to be told, after the Asking.
Once the packs were unloaded, Fentulk urged the wyvern to fly back home. Then he set about unrolling some bedding for them. Every time he glanced up, Joanne's gaze was fixed somewhere else. She was seeing his home, drinking in the beauty of it. He hoped she was thinking of it as her home as well. He certainly wanted her to feel that way.
"You hungry?" he asked, pulling the other pack onto the bedding and rummaging through it. "Got ma's talbuk steaks in here. Some Telaari grapes, a bit of grainbread..." Chuckling, he pulled out the flagon. "Da, I don't know where yuh got it, but I owe yuh."
Joanne joined him on the bedding and smiled. "Nagrand is wondrous. There is no direction that isn't beautiful. I want to see all of it with you."
"I'll show it to you," Fentulk promised. "Every day, a little more."
They ate in comfortable silence, their eyes frequently meeting. When their hunger was assuaged, Fentulk took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was time. He couldn't believe how nervous he was, as if there was still a chance she might say no.
Open your eyes, he'd been told a few times. Encouraged, he steadied himself and took the plunge.
"Joanne," he said, "I... I love you. With all my heart and soul. Will you... consent to be my mate?"
Even knowing that this was the purpose of bringing her to the island, Joanne still felt a surge of joy at his words. As if there was still a chance that he might not ask.
"Oh... Fentulk," she breathed, her shaking hand going to her throat and her eyes misting. "I do so love you as well. Yes, I will be your mate. Yes!"
Nearly sagging with relief, Fentulk's breath escaped in a whoosh as though he'd been holding it. Gasping for air and laughing at the same time, he reached for her hands and held them tightly. "Thank you."
When all he did was smile gratefully at her, Joanne frowned a little. "Is there... more? I have heard... at least I think... for humans, there is more to it. A ceremony... something to make it... 'official.' Do the Mag'har have any such thing?"
Fentulk shrugged and shook his head. "No. Probably why there's such a damn fuss over the Askin' part, cause there ain't nothin' else. This here's an understandin' 'tween you and me. Ain't nobody else got the authority over what we feel and what we do. Just you and me."
"So... you could have asked me at any time," she said with a slight smile. "And your folk would have recognized me as your mate?"
"Don't know," he replied. "I think... bringin' you home, you doin' that Trial, gettin' marked... All that was kinda necessary, so they'd accept yuh. Gotta admit, though," he added sheepishly, "always wanted to take a woman up here. Dreamed of it. So... I don't think I coulda asked yuh before. That and, uh... wasn't so sure'uh yer answer til now."
"I think, Fentulk," she whispered, "my answer has not changed from the moment you rescued me from that tower. So like a knight in shining armor, you were." She smiled fondly at him, and he laughed.
"More like a squire in dirty britches," he grunted ruefully.
"None wear them so well as you," she teased.
"What I got now's a sight nicer, though," he suggested.
"Yes, quite," she smiled.
Sobering a bit, Fentulk murmured, "Can I kiss yuh, Joanne?"
"Won't you please?" she sighed.
Though he'd practiced in his mind many times over the last few weeks, Fentulk was nervous as an inexperienced young man. Was it because she had never been kissed by an Orc? Was that what made it even more important that he go carefully? He was afraid to ruin the moment even by instructing her to be still so he wouldn't cut her with his tusks, so he simply cupped her face gently in his large hands and leaned close.
Joanne didn't know what to do with her hands again, and kept them clasped nervously in her lap. She tried to relax, to let him draw her in. Her eyes closed of their own accord.
When his lips touched hers, a small, surprised gasp escaped her, then she sighed. Her body seemed to go limp; she raised a hand to his bare chest to steady herself. She hadn't expected his mouth to be so soft and gentle, or for his tusks to press so lightly against her cheeks.
After a few moments, Fentulk withdrew slightly and pressed his forehead to hers. He could barely catch his breath. "Joanne," he breathed. "Will you... will you lie with me tonight? I want... I've wanted yuh for so long." Swallowing hard, he added, "Yuh don't have to. We can just... It's okay if yuh don't..."
"Fentulk," Joanne whispered, "I do."
He tried not to grin like an idiot, or giggle with nervous relief. Why did he feel so clumsy and young tonight? It was maddening! Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Fentulk shifted to sit alongside Joanne.
"I do not know what to do," she blurted nervously. "I apologize. You are so much... better at this than I."
Now he did laugh. "All I thought I knew seems like it stayed on the ground. Feels like I ain't ever done it myself." Easing himself down, he stretched out on his side facing her and leaned on his elbow. "Cause it's you, may as well be my first time, too."
"Forgive me if I just... let you lead," she said awkwardly.
"All right," Fentulk nodded. "Come lie down, then."
Taking a deep breath, Joanne lay on her back beside him, her arms at her sides. Fentulk frowned a little. "Maybe... if you... got to know me a little... yuh might not be so nervous."
Looking at him with surprise, she said, "I do know you."
"I mean," he said delicately, "get to know me. My, uh, body. Maybe if you got yerself... familiar with it. I know I'm sorta... bigger'n humans. Don't blame yuh if it makes yuh nervous."
"Oh," she breathed. Nodding bravely, she turned onto her side so she could face him, and propped herself on an elbow as he was doing. Though she'd longed to touch him, such thoughts were easy to imagine without opportunity to indulge them. Now, however...
Her fingers trembled slightly as she touched his chest. A half smile curved his mouth as he watched her eyes flicking from her hand to his face, still unsure yet curious and in some ways enthralled with the newness of such a simple intimacy. As he remained still and didn't interfere, she grew bolder, her hand exploring the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. But there she stopped and withdrew, her face aflame.
"I am sorry," she whispered, unable to look at his face. She could not take her eyes off the embroidered panel concealing his manhood, for it was not hiding the affect she was having on him. Though she longed to see him again, she felt embarrassed guilt for wanting to, and a good deal of worry for what it would feel like.
"It's all right," he said reassuringly, yet somewhat nervously. "Ain't no rushin' these things."
"I just do not know what to do," she lamented. "I look upon you and... I... I do not know..."
"Hey," he said softly, raising a gentle hand to her cheek, "it's all right. This is somethin' new. I understand."
"You have been with...," she began, feeling close to tears of frustration and inadequacy, but he stopped her with a thumb lightly on her lips.
"I ain't thinkin' 'bout them," he said. "So don't you think 'bout'em. It's just me and you, for always."
Taking a deep breath, she nodded.
"Now... tell me what you wanna do, all right?" he urged gently. Her eyes flicked downward and she bit her lip. "You wanna see me? Maybe you won't be so nervous if you see it."
He hadn't thought Joanne could get any more red in the face. She couldn't say a word; she could only nod. Feeling a bit nervous himself, Fentulk took her hand and brought it down between them. Her fingers brushed the edge of the front panel and he gently guided her in pulling it aside.
"Yeah," he said sheepishly, seeing her worried expression, "I know it's... kinda big. Um... we'll go slow, okay?"
Joanne nodded again, then looked up into his eyes. "Please, Fentulk," she said shakily, "if you could lead... I just... I..."
"'S'okay," he assured her. "I'll, uh... I'll take yuh through this. It'll be all right." Covering himself back up, he gave her a slight smile and was relieved to see her beginning to relax again. Reaching up to her cheek, he gently kissed her again. It was a struggle, keeping his passion in check. He wanted to kiss her fiercely, tear at the clothing covering her body, drive her to cry out his name...
Plenty of time for that another day, he reminded himself. Tonight is only the beginning.
While he kissed her, his hand strayed from her cheek to the first tie at her shoulder. One quick pull was all it would take to undo it, but he restrained the impulse. Joanne barely felt the tie loosen, only knowing it was undone when Fentulk's kissing shifted from her mouth down her neck to her shoulder.
The softness of his lips excited her; even the light brush of his tusks was somehow arousing. Her free hand found its way to his head, and she caressed his neck and ear as he slowly drew the front panel of her dress down. When she felt his lips upon her breast, only then did she become aware of its exposure, and she trembled.
With lips and tongue, he explored the contours of her breast. The unexpected pleasure of his attentions made Joanne go limp and settle on her back. He gently took her hand and raised it above her head, intertwining their fingers in a light grip. Then he slid his hand down her arm, past her breast, to the second tie.
Joanne's body was sensitive to every touch, feeling almost electrified with desire. Every caress, every kiss, enflamed her. She felt the second tie loosen, but it was not so noticeable with his mouth upon her breast, his tongue laving and flicking her hardened nipple. Her nervousness seemed to have lessened considerably, or perhaps it had simply been forgotten.
His warm hand smoothing over her ribs, easing the front panel down farther, seemed to envelope her in a spell. There was only Fentulk in her mind, his hand on her body, his mouth on her skin. Heat radiated from his touches, and she could almost feel the waves rippling from the point of contact to her center.
And in that place, there was a desperate need like nothing she'd ever experienced.
Fentulk shifted slowly down, moving his body along hers and mouthing her scented flesh as he went. Little gasps and sighs told him he pleased her. Finally close enough to rest his head upon her hip, he pulled the third tie loose with a shaking hand. The little he'd seen of her tattoo had been an enticement, a tease, and now he would see it all. Drawing an unsteady breath, he slowly pulled the dress aside.
Joy mingled with desire as he gazed upon the talbuk. Even in the moonlight, every detail stood out sharply against her pale skin. Beyond the beauty of the image was its meaning. He realized that, without this tattoo on Joanne's body, he would not have felt he had come home.
His fingers delicately traced the image, and he glanced up at Joanne's face. "It don't hurt, does it?" he asked quietly.
She seemed to drift awake from a dream and met his eyes. "No," she said with a breathless smile. "No, it doesn't."
He nodded and continued his gentle exploration. While the site of the tattoo didn't hurt, she found it was more sensitive than the rest of her skin, if that were even possible. Yet he seemed mindful of that, and his caress soothed even as it excited.
Leaning over her, Fentulk lowered his head and pressed his lips to her pelvis, where the talbuk's forehead was imprinted. Once there, his mouth wanted no other task than applying kisses to the entire pattern. To see the other side, and repeat the same treatment there, he pulled the last tie at her knee. In moments, the dress was opened completely.
Joanne barely noticed that she was lying naked to the open sky. With the slow, patient use of lips and tongue, Fentulk kept her blissfully unmindful of that fact. Her attention was focusing more sharply on one part of herself, though. Of their own accord, her legs began to ease apart.
Pleased that his attentions were having the desired effect, Fentulk stroked her thigh and continued kissing her belly from hip to hip, even nuzzling her mound a few times. He didn't urge or push; he let her open herself to him at her own pace.
Smiling a bit, Fentulk carefully maneuvered himself between her legs as they parted. He made a special effort not to startle her or draw attention to his movements. There was no mystery in this; he'd managed to arouse her completely, and instinct prepared her for him.
When his tongue touched her, Joanne's eyes flew open and she jerked with surprise. "Oh!" she cried, and looked down. Fentulk met her eyes briefly, winked at her, then closed them again. Her shock wore off very quickly as his tongue sunk her once more into bliss. A long sigh flowed out of her and she collapsed back on the bedding.
The feel of his wet tongue swirling around her most secret place brought gasps and whimpers of pleasure. Her hands fisted in the bedding, gripping tightly when he dipped inside her, tasting her, thrilling her.
Something seemed to be building inside her, something Joanne had never felt before. She hadn't been inclined to explore her own body, and so knew nothing of what was happening now. Whatever it was seemed strong and unquenchable, yet needing to be quenched. Desperately. She quivered all over, straining for something to satisfy the need, and Fentulk was there. His eager mouth was there, at the center of the maelstrom, and she pressed into him, begging him, commanding him, though she could form no words.
Then Joanne felt as though she was being buffeted by gale winds in a storm. Wave upon wave of rapturous, fulfilling pleasure roared through her body. So startled was she that she cried out, heedless of any who might hear her.
Fentulk could barely suppress the grin as he continued working at her, gradually bringing her down from her peak, drawing it out. She was more than ready for him now, he mused. When she calmed and relaxed somewhat, he stretched out over her body, his hips between her legs, and rested on his elbows so he could look down at her delirious face. He couldn't stop smiling.
"I think it'll go easy now," he told her when her eyes focused on him. "Still gonna hurt a little."
He could have told her the island was falling to the ground and she wouldn't have taken particular note of the warning. Her heart was still beating fast, and she could barely catch her breath.
Chuckling to himself, he raised himself on his hands and knees and untied the embroidered panels, discarding them. Now that he was looking down over her body laid out beneath him, he decided he didn't want those leggings on either. With fumbling hands, he hastily peeled them off and tossed them aside, making a mental note to fold them properly later so his da wouldn't know he'd been so careless with them.
Moving back into position between her legs, he took a deep breath and asked, "You ready for me?"
"Yes," she gasped, her voice pitched high and breathless. "Yes, I am."
Nodding, Fentulk took hold of his member and seated it at her opening. She gasped a little; it was quite a bit different from his tongue, and much larger. Her brow pinched with worry and she bit her lip. Her legs instinctively drew together a bit.
"No, no," he said gently, "keep'em apart, all right? Open up as wide as yuh can." Joanne nodded nervously and tried to relax, letting her legs fall open beneath him, yet she was still tense. "All right. Here I come."
An embarrassed titter burst out of her suddenly, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Fentulk shook his head, a wry grin on his face. "Can't believe I said that."
Both of them dissolved in laughter, effectively easing their tension. When the giggling wound down, he smiled warmly and said, "Okay, for real now." Joanne readied herself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Then she nodded.
The way was comfortably dampened by his earlier efforts, easing his initial entry. Sooner than he expected, he met resistance and stopped. "I don't know if slow or quick'll work better," he said apologetically, "but you tell me, okay?"
She nodded, raising her hands to grip his shoulders. Fixing her eyes on his, she held her breath.
Swallowing hard, Fentulk pushed into her slow and steady. He winced when she whimpered. "You okay?" he asked. "'S'gonna hurt a bit." Joanne nodded and bit her lip again. He could see the discomfort and worry in her eyes, and feel the grip of her hands on his shoulders. Maybe she wasn't in agony, but it wasn't painless either.
Without warning, he broke through and slipped almost all the way inside her. It took them both by surprise. Fentulk let out a low groan of pleasure, breathing an almost euphoric oh fuck as her tight body accepted him. For Joanne, the earlier need woke anew and informed her that this was what it wanted the first time. Not only did it accept the new offering, it basked in the full feeling it gave.
She gasped several times, unable to articulate anything. Worried, Fentulk said, "You okay?"
"Oh yes," she panted, her voice still high-pitched. "Yes... yes, I'm... oh yes... This... this feels so... so good... ooohhh..."
Smiling, he withdrew a bit then eased in again, this time burying himself to the hilt. He settled himself down on his elbows, his body cleaved to hers, and just watched her face with rapt fascination. She was enjoying this; enjoying him. Moving inside her brought such rapturous expressions, though he continued to go slowly.
Though it was difficult for him to restrain the need for completion, he forced himself to calm. He wanted to bring her off again. He wanted their first time together to be a wonderful memory they would hold close forever.
Were he a younger man, or less experienced, he might have easily lost control and ended it too soon. For this moment alone, he was grateful for his past indiscretions. He'd learned restraint well, and as he predicted, Joanne would benefit from it.
After awhile, he leaned down and kissed her. His passions momentarily ran away with him, and he kissed her fiercely. Her arms encircled his neck as she welcomed even a slightly rougher contact. It seemed to be what she needed to remind her of Kraya's advice.
Setting her feet flat on the bedding, Joanne noted the movement of Fentulk's hips, and pivoted her own in time with his. The change in her receptivity brought a moan of pleasure from him, and his pace quickened a bit.
Their bodies touching at nearly all points, it was only minutes later that he drove her to the heights of pleasure once more. This time, he was able to join her in her moment of completion.
Gasping for breath, Fentulk withdrew and lay beside her, resting his head on her breast. Her arm cradled his shoulders, her fingers caressing his sharply pointed ear. When he could manage a few words, he looked up at her and murmured, "I love you so much. I hope yuh know that."
Her eyelids were heavy with fatigue as she met his gaze. "Everything you've ever done has told me how much you love me. I don't know if I've shown you my love as well as you have shown me yours. But I do love you, Fentulk."
He grinned. "I can tell, now that I'm lookin'," he said. "Just didn't wanna admit it 'fore now. Didn't wanna make yuh do somethin' yuh didn't wanna do."
"You never have," she reassured him. "I've wanted to be here, with you, for quite some time."
An amused smile softened his face. "Guess I better get us our own place now, eh?"
"Yes," she laughed. "Please do."