Transcendence (13 page)

Everything inside of me screams to roll her over, pull her hips up to meet mine, and take her.

She’s my mate.

I see her throat bob as she swallows, and her palm presses lightly against my chest. Her fingers trace the line of muscle above my pounding heart. She makes a few soft sounds as her eyes dart between mine, and her fingers stroke softly against my skin. It feels so good, and I want more.

I bring my nose to the side of her face and stroke her skin gently before I move down her jaw to her chin. I cup her face with my hand as I look into her eyes again, touch the tip of her nose with mine, and hope she understands I only want to give her a baby. I don’t want her to be afraid anymore. I want her to know I will care for her always. If I give her a baby, she’ll know I will hunt for them and protect them with my life.

I run the tips of my fingers along the top of the unusual tunic she wears. The material is so soft, but not as soft as her skin just above it. I bring my fingers up the side of her neck until they rest on her cheek. I touch the edge of her mouth with my thumb, and the corners twitch into a smile.

Her eyes meet mine, dark and burning with the reflection from the firelight. I feel my chest rise and fall with my breaths as her hand mimics the motions of mine. It tickles a little as she rakes the tips of her nails through the scruffy hair on my face. I feel her take a deep breath before she closes her eyes. Her hand drops back down to my chest, and then Beh tilts her chin up, and her lips touch mine.

Before I have a chance to wonder just what she is doing, the smooth, soft touch of her lips have pressed against mine and rapidly departed. I blink a few times, looking from her lips to her eyes and considering.

Considering what?

I’m not quite sure.

Beh’s eyes drop down from my face to her hand where it rests against my chest. Her lower lip is again attacked by her teeth. I place my thumb against her chin and tug at the skin until her lip is free and she looking at me. I wrap my finger up and over her chin and then run it slowly over her lips—back and forth. As I release her chin completely, her tongue moistens her lips.

Does she like that, having her lips touched?

Does she like having her mouth touch mine?

Do I?

Yes.

Yes, I do.

I grunt softly and tap her lips with my finger, my eyes imploring her to show me how to do that again. I was caught off guard the first time, but now I want her to do it more. I place my hand on the side of her face and tuck my fingers under her jaw. With gentle pressure, I move her face a little closer to mine.

Beh leans into my hand as she moves nearer, and our lips touch again. Her arm comes around and cradles the back of my head as her fingers weave in and around my hair. It feels good, like it does when she pulls out the tangles. Our lips stay pressed together as her other hand moves from my chest and up to my shoulder.

She pulls back, breaking her lips away from mine to catch her faltering breath. I can feel my throbbing need of her intently as her hand runs down my arm. I don’t want her to stop touching me. Actually, I want her to touch more of me.

“
Beh,” I murmur softly against her cheek. Beh’s eyes stay on mine as I reach down and grasp at the tie holding my wrap around my waist. It slips out of its knot easily, and I push it away from my hips, exposing my hard organ to her, hoping she is impressed. As her hand runs down my arm again, I capture it with my fingers and bring it lower, pressing her palm to my length as I angle my hips toward her.

As soon as she touches my flesh, I hear her gasp, and she quickly pulls her hand away from me.

“
Ehd…no.”

I immediately stop my movements and look up at her warily, but she doesn’t seem angry. She reaches down and wraps her hand around the edge of my fur wrap and covers me. She makes more sounds, and she runs her hand along the line of my jaw. She moves her head and touches her mouth to mine again.

With the touch of her lips on mine, I am once again captivated. Though my need for her remains apparent to me, even if she has covered it, this is a nice, distracting alternative. My fingertips ghost over her lips. Beh smiles and places her hand over mine. She makes more sounds, ending with a sound that reminds me of a snake.

She makes the same noise again.

“
Kiss.” She leans close and makes our mouths come together, then repeats the sound. “Kiss.”

I tilt my head to one side and brush my hand across her mouth. I watch her lips and tongue as she makes the strange hissing noise again. I lick my own lips, and I can almost taste her on them.

“
Kiss.”

There is a tickling feeling in the back of my head—something in my mind that feels strange. I narrow my eyes a little, and I feel like I am standing on the edge of a cliff, looking over the brink and feeling the wind in my face.

“
Kiss, Ehd.”

“
Beh.” I make her name-sound reflexively as I hear my own, and the sensation in the back of my head increases. I focus on her mouth as she brings us together again. I close my eyes this time, just as she does, and I feel her lips part slightly as her tongue touches my lips.

My mate is definitely strange.

And I like it.

I open my mouth and taste her and feel her tongue against mine and confirm that her teeth are indeed smooth like mine. It is a bizarrely automatic action. I never would have considered doing such a thing, but now that I feel her lips against mine and her tongue reaching into my mouth, it seems as natural as breathing. I’m captivated by the feeling—warmth and moisture, softness and pressure all at once. I feel my body shiver against hers, and my need for her grows more urgent.

I moan into her mouth.

Beh pulls back, panting, and her face is flushed. I watch her intently as her hands move to my shoulders and she tilts her chin down, still breathing hard. I keep my hand against her face and run my thumb over her cheekbone first and then her lips.

I definitely like it—lips and mouths and tongues together. When my tongue runs over my own lips, I can taste her there, and it’s as if she’s laid claim to me. I feel myself smile, and Beh returns the gesture through her blush. She makes more soft sounds, and this time I cover her mouth with my lips instead of my hand, which is very effective.

I
definitely
like this.

By the time she breaks away from me again, my lips feel tired from the abnormal exertion. I pull my mate tightly against my chest and try to ignore the continuing throbbing underneath my fur wrap and what it means when she will not touch me there.

She doesn’t really want me for a mate, not completely. She is willing to stay with me and work beside me, but she doesn’t want to mate. She doesn’t want me to put a baby in her.

I place my forehead to her shoulder and let out a long breath, trying to hide my sadness.

The light rain stops completely during the night, and the sun is shining brightly by the time my mate’s eyes open. I have been watching her for some time now, and I have come to the conclusion that I must do more if I am going to win her over. Even though she is here with me, and she is obviously my mate now, I want her to want it, too. I want her to open herself to me…give herself to me. After the previous night, feeling how wonderful just her mouth on mine felt, I have been plagued with thoughts of how good it would feel to have my penis inside of her.

So now I am going to do everything I can to make her happy and convince her to mate with me.

I start with breakfast.

As soon as her eyes open, I kneel beside her with fresh pieces of rabbit meat in my hand. I cooked them very slowly over the coals, and I’ve blown on them to cool them off a little because I want the temperature to be just right for her—not too cool or too hot. I stare into her eyes as she rolls over and pulls the furs up under her arms. She props herself up on one elbow and smiles up at me through blurry eyes.

Her mouth makes sounds, and I silence her with a piece of the meat. She gnaws at it slowly and seems to like it as she swallows and accepts another one from my fingers. I give her a drink of water, careful not to spill any on her, and then offer her more of the tender flesh.

Once she has eaten her fill, I hold her hand and take her outside of the cave to relieve herself. As soon as we reach the area, I let go of her hand, turn, and cover my eyes with my fingers so she knows I am not watching her. When she places her hand on my arm, I know she is done, and I smile down at her. She gives me a half smile back, but her brow is furrowed.

I wonder if I have done something wrong.

Determined, I take her back to the cave to gather up what we need for another trek to the lake. I want to check the rabbit traps I reset as well as give Beh a chance to wash, which she seems to like to do. Every time we go there, she spends some time washing herself in the water, which is beginning to warm nicely now that summer is upon us. When she goes into the water, I try not to look at her body, but it’s difficult.

I startle as Beh makes a squeaking sound when we get into the cave. I rush around her, holding my arm out to protect her from whatever has frightened her, but there is nothing there. When I look at her face, she is smiling and pointing toward the fire. I follow her finger to the little cups and plates she made from the clay and then look back up at her, confused.

Beh makes more sounds, kneels next to the fire, and holds up the little brown cup. I take it in my hand, and I am surprised at how hard it is! It’s no longer mushy and soft but feels more like a rock. The edges are rough and scratch the tips of my fingers. I turn it over and over again in my hand. Even the inside of it is dry and rigid. I look back to Beh, amazed at what she has handed to me.

She holds up one of the plates as well, which is also dry and unyielding. I give her the cup back and examine the plate a little more closely. I try to bend it with my fingers, but it doesn’t bend at all. It doesn’t even feel like clay anymore, and I wonder just how strong it is.

I knock it against one of the cooking rocks, and it shatters with a horrendous sound. The noise is loud and echoes through the cave. I jump up and back away, bringing Beh with me. She is yelling now, and I wrap my arms around her to shield her from the thing.

After a moment, I realize it is just sitting there in pieces, and I let my struggling mate free. She stares at the plate, now broken into three pieces, and her eyes go wide. Beh drops down to her knees and reaches for the fragments as a strangled cry comes from her mouth. She covers up her lips with her hand, but I can still hear her repeating the same set of sounds over and over again while I stand behind her, unsure and ashamed.

“
Ohmygod…ohmygod…”

I know immediately that I haven’t just destroyed the clay plate she made, but I’ve also ruined any chance at all I had of making her want me to put a baby inside of her. I didn’t know the plate would break—it seemed so sturdy in my hands! Though it felt like a hard stone, it is apparently more like the flint I use for tools, easily broken if not handled correctly.

“
Ohmygod…ohmygod…” Beh rocks back and forth on her heels, and I want to go to her and hold her against my chest, but I’m afraid. She is so upset, and I’m the reason for it. I have definitely made a huge mess of this, and I watch helplessly as she picks up a couple of the pieces and holds them in her hands.

I hear her mumbled sounds turn to sobs, and she holds the pieces against her chest, and I cannot stand it anymore. I move up behind her, reaching out and touching her shoulder with my hand. She turns quickly and screams horrible sounds at me. The pieces fall from her hands as she stands up and continues yelling. As she does, her hands reach down to the strange wraps that cover her legs. In the center of it—right below her navel, there is a small round thing. She grips it, shaking the little object as she screams, and I cower from the sound.

With another sob, Beh drops down to the ground again and grabs into her hands the pieces of the plate I have broken. When my mate turns her head to look at me, I can’t meet her eyes. I drop down into a crouch and lower my head. My hair falls over my forehead, effectively hiding me from her. I wish she couldn’t see me at all, but I can still feel her eyes on me.

Though I still feel the urge to hide, I have to follow when Beh rushes out of the cave with the pieces of clay in her hands. Even if she does not want me at all, I have to keep her safe. I follow her at a distance as she runs off across the grasslands with the clay pieces still clutched in her fingers. I have to jog at a good pace to keep up with her and run faster as she approaches the pine forest and the cover of trees. Beh runs all the way to the lake, goes right up to the side, and flings the broken pieces far off into the water.