Lord of the Forest by Dawn Thompson

Author:Dawn Thompson [Thompson, Dawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2009-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

9

Marius tossed a piece of pomegranate, a chunk of cream-colored inner flesh studded with seeds, in the magpie’s general direction and lolled back on the soft cloth under the birches. The bird flew down to peck at it.

“Enjoy it, Esau. We appreciate your discretion.”

Linnea, lying next to him, stroked his chest. “He does seem to know when to fly away and when to come back.”

Marius split off another chunk and popped a few ruby-red pips into her mouth. She bit into them, enjoying the tangy spurt of their juice. Starving after several hours of incredible sex in every position they or the trees could think of, they had gone through everything else in the basket and he had just finished the wine.

The sky was still clear, but the afternoon shadows were deep gold and getting longer. The trees rustled overhead, feeling calmer themselves. Or at least tired.

Marius, big and strong and masculine as he was, had wanted a turn in their branches too and they had hoisted him, spread his thighs, and swung him with great care into Linnea’s open mouth as she kneeled to suck him. Without being asked, they had also rubbed his balls with their softest leaves as he swung. When he and Linnea collapsed happily into each other’s arms he’d gasped that all of their wanton attentions felt good, but they were nothing compared to her touch and her sweet body.

His final orgasm had been given to the meadow. His seed arced out over it in long, healthy spurts when she pulled away just in time and let him swing out over the green. They had remembered and fulfilled the fertility rituals of the solstice revelry. How long ago it seemed.

Those three days had come and gone a while ago, along with the revelers themselves and, she supposed, the traveling circus and strolling players and all the rest of it. Her sense of time seemed to have evaporated. She looked up into the cloudless sky and thought of Ravelle. She and Marius had enjoyed their stolen bliss, miraculously untroubled by man or beast or bird or demon, but now, in the afterglow, she felt a prickle of nervous tension.

Bliss was fleeting. Somewhere on this island lurked a creature that hated them both. Marius’s kick had not killed it; the lords of Arcan were at odds over it; it lay in wait for them all.

He rose halfway and gave her a kiss before heading off into the bushes. She heard a faint rushing, pattering sound coming from there in another minute, and strove to sound cheerful when she called out to him, “You piss like a horse, Marius!”

“Does that surprise you?” he called back.

Then, nothing. She supposed he was washing himself in the brook a little further off. He had brought water from it to wash her. Drowsy from the wine she’d consumed as well and the heat of the afternoon, she dozed for a little while.

The sound of Marius crashing back through the bushes made her wake up.

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