Page 20 of Valka

She nodded.

Then he pointed back at the pool they’d bathed in and shook his head furiously. “No!”

Delia nodded. “I understand.”

He left her and walked away, leaving her alone in the chamber to do whatever was required. He obviously didn’t care to watch that at least. “Small favors…” she mumbled as she picked her way around the smaller pool looking for a suitable place to do her business without falling in.

When she finished, she stopped by the larger pool to splash some fresh water on herself, and wandered halfway up the walk-through before she heard noise at the other end letting her know Valka had gone all the way back to the main area of the cave without her.

The moment she stepped into sight, he pointed at the fire circle again. “Sit.”

“Why?”

He turned to her, his expression indicating that he was ready to argue with her for defying him, but instead he somehow managed to control himself and held up a slab of dried fish. “Eat.”

“No, thank you.”

He scowled, striding over to her and shoving the fish at her. “Eat!”

Sighing, and rolling her eyes, she accepted the fish from him, and tore off a piece of the tough, leathery, salty fish with her teeth. She stared at him while she chewed. “I don’t like it.”

“Eat,” he ordered.

He took a bite of his own fish and sat across from her. They sat and ate in silence, though she ate only one piece, and he ate six in the time she ate the one. When he was done, he got up, picked her up, carried her to his bed of furs and laid her on them. “Sleep.”

She nodded hesitantly.

He lay beside her, pulling the furs up over them to keep them warm while they slept.

Delia turned on her side, facing away from him and scooting a little further away.

Valka reached out and pulled her into his chest.

She let out a squeak, surprised by the sudden change of position.

“Sleep,” he said.

“You could have just asked me to move closer.”

“Delia loud,” he grumbled.

“I am not loud!” she insisted.

“Sleep, Delia,” he said, all traces of sarcasm and taunting gone from his voice. “Sleep.”

And when he spoke to her like that, without all the attitude, his was a nice voice.

Chapter 8

Valka woke suddenly, opening his eyes, but lying perfectly still as he listened to the sounds around himself. With a grimace, he rearranged his cock where it lay pressed against his belly. The dream that had awakened him had stopped just short of giving him release. He closed his eyes again and tried to regain that dream space somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. In his mind’s eye, Delia was splayed out before him, her legs spread wide, every bit of her open to his whims. His tongue lapped at her softest flesh and he smiled to himself when the softest moans escaped her. His hard cock jumped again at the thought of her. He could smell her. He could taste her.

Opening his eyes again, he turned his head to watch the woman sleeping on her side next to him. He’d planned to make her wait until she wanted him — after much teasing of course. But on second thought, why should he deny himself? She was his to do with as he wished, and at this moment he wished for relief.

Valka gently rolled Delia toward him, just enough that she was now reclining on her back. Sitting up to better see her, he pulled back the fur that was covering them and looked down at her body. She was pleasant to look at. Soft, rounded about the hips and belly, her thighs plump and dimpled, her breasts full and pendulous and heavy. His eyes strayed up toward her face. Her head was crowned with the silver hair that had caught his attention to begin with, and her face had lines etched in it, just as he did, from age. The creases in his face all pulled down, and were from scowling and snarling. But hers… hers framed her mouth, letting him know that she smiled a lot. And the tiny curved lines at the outer edges of her eyes, he’d be willing to bet that when she smiled her eyes crinkled up. She carried the mostbeautiful lines and creases in her face. Gifts of age and a life well lived that not everyone got the chance to wear.

Scooting down near her feet in his bed, he picked up one of her legs and lay it over his shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the warm, natural scent that was only hers. And his. It only stood to reason that if she was his, then her scent was his, too. Lying between her legs, only seconds from indulging in the reality of the dream that had awakened him, he smirked to himself when he thought of her reaction when she woke with his mouth on her, his tongue inside her. That smirk grew to a full-blown grin as he lowered his mouth. Maybe one day he’d tell her that part of the attraction he held for her was the fact that he loved to provoke her. She was not afraid to let him know she was unhappy with him, and a part of him took great enjoyment from that.

Pressing his nose into her folds, he opened his mouth and swiped his tongue up the length of her slit, bottom to top, paying particular attention to the spot at the very top where it all came to a meeting point. Somewhere in there, he’d heard tell that a special pearl of flesh lay, just waiting to be stimulated to give the female pleasure. He’d never bothered with it before. Now, though, it seemed appropriate. If she was his, then she should be pleasured, because if she sought pleasure elsewhere, he’d have to kill them both, and that was something he didn’t really want to do. Not her, anyway. Whichever male was stupid enough to touch Delia deserved to die, but not necessarily Delia herself. So, it behooved him to give her pleasure.

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