Taboo formerly Bleeding Heart

 

Outside the forbidding stone fortress, a storm brewed:  cold winds howled, rain pelted the ground, and the sky gods waged war against the earth-dwellers.  A fearsome bolt of lightning slashed across the inky black sky, illuminating the forlorn face of the solitary figure sitting on the stone ledge staring out of the open window.  The crash of thunder followed, waking the room’s other occupant, whose hand searched the empty sheets for her bedmate.   Bleary eyed, she located her lost companion.  With a sorrowful sigh, she struggled to kick her feet free.  Sleepily, she fought her way out of the blankets and padded softly across the floor to kiss his shoulder.  She shivered in the cool breeze tearing through the room then pressed her naked body against his, seeking warmth and comfort.

“What weighs so heavy on your mind, my love?” she inquired with genuine concern.

His brows knit in consternation and then he reached a hand up to cover hers where it rest on his arm and leaned his head into hers.  “The storms come earlier and earlier …” Marcas observed pensively.

“Aye, and the winds blow colder,” she added while resting her cheek against his shoulder.  “Winter comes earlier each year and overstays her welcome.  Our world sees great changes lately, love,” she whispered to his shoulder as her eyes searched the starless sky.

“I fear for Ma’ara,” he confessed.   

“The storm cannot harm her,” Dorthea murmured, confused.  “She surely knows to seek cover.”

“Not this storm, perhaps,” he pondered aloud.  “But the one that brews inside the palace itself, yes?  Do you know where it is that she goes at these times?”  He turned to face her and draw her into the warmth between his strong legs.

“Truly?” Dorthea seemed shocked at her mate’s question. Her blue eyes hunted his face for an explanation.r

“Yes, love.  I need to know where she is,” he pleaded, voice turning husky as she pressed against his reawakening cock.

“No, Marcas. I know not where she hides to commune with her Moon Mistress.  She shares little and Díl is much too swift for any of our ladies’ mounts to follow.”  She paused and looked into his eyes.  Seeing the rising anger there, she quickly added, “Not that any of would try, my love.”  She diverted his attention with an undulation of her abdomen, earning a soft groan.

He placed a gentle, reassuring kiss on her hand and nodded sadly.  “Nor would I want any of the court’s ladies to attempt to keep up with my mysterious sister,” he reassured her.  “Not even the elite guard can keep pace when she wishes to disappear.”  He pulled her tighter to him, his strong hands enclosing her slender hips.

“Aye, love, they were quite distraught when they found she had slipped away again,” Dorthea chuckled against his wind-cooled skin.  “Mayhap they feared her brother’s wrath more than our Sovereign’s?”

“Now, Dorthea!” he chided her softly.  “I am fully aware of my sister’s foibles and strengths.  When she wants to disappear, she does.  I’d not expect my guards to be able to do something which even I cannot.”

“Mmmm, ever the logical leader, my love,” she praised him softly before teasing his conveniently placed nipple with her lips.

“What do hear of her intentions?” he queried with concern.  “Does she tell you of any of the events with our Sovereign and Ríu?  Does she even speak of Ríu?  Does she know where he is?  Does the Sovereign ...” his voice trailed off as she placed a soothing finger to his lips to quiet his ranting questions.

“Ma’ara takes no counsel other than her own,” she rebuked him gently.  “This you know much more well than any of us others.  If she does seek counsel, it is only from you.”

Another flash of lightning crackled across the sky, followed more quickly by stone shaking thunder.  Dorthea jumped, startled.  Marcas slid off the stone ledge and swooped her into his arms.  With a quick kiss to her forehead, he carried her back to the bed. 

“Enough of worries tonight, lady,” he murmured against her pale skin. “Let us rejoice in sharing this bed once more.” 

“Aye,” she answered huskily, reaching for his robust manhood.  “You spend far too much time away from this bed to waste our precious moments worrying about storms far off on our horizon.”

“Not so far off, I fear …”

He was unable to finish his thoughts as Dorthea worked her special brand of magic with fingers, lips and teeth; temporarily forcing him to forget his absent sister.  He pressed against her, using his superior strength to pin her beneath him, and reclaimed his lady, sheathing himself fully in her dampness.  Groaning in satisfaction, he began to pump his hips, grinding against her mound and kissing her neck.

“Marcas,” she moaned as he filled her again and again.  She panted and writhed beneath him until he drew the confession he so longed to hear from her lips, “I love you!”

“Yes,” he hissed possessively, gritting his teeth with effort.  “I am honored, my lady.”   Fervently, he drew her cry of completion from her, collapsing as she convulsed and contracted around his joyful cock, spurting deep inside her, hoping to plant a seed in her fertile field.

“I am honored, m’lord,” she gasped, breathless, and praying to all the gods and goddesses who would listen that his seed would take root and blossom, finally.