She arched up, twisted desperately, her vision flushed red with desire, her body hot and damp everywhere, her long hair plastered to her, tangling around them, her legs wrapped around his. “Please…please,” she managed to gasp, her nails tearing into his skin. “
Zaren.
”
He made a sound, wild and low, and suddenly she was airborne. The bed slammed into her face and shoulders, her knees were yanked apart as she pulled herself up on her arms. Strong hands gripped her hips and Jane whimpered with relief as she spread her legs farther.
She waited, quivering, trembling, throbbing, her thighs wide, her swollen labia full and open, ready and dripping. She heard a low sound, almost like a sigh, but more like a growl or an animal’s groan, and then he was there. Hard and hot, thick and long. She released a relieved gasp, very nearly cried, when he shoved inside her.
They both moaned, both sounds of pleasure mixed with the pain of waiting. His fingers tight at her hips, holding her as if he were afraid she was going to bolt, he didn’t wait. One moment he was sliding into her sheath, and the next, he was slamming into her, thrusting wildly and forcefully as she gripped the bed, slamming back into him, meeting him with her own strokes.
Yes, yes, yes….
He arched over her, dominant, wild, slamming into her from behind with primal pleasure, powerful and strong. He was unleashed, primitive, a wild being forcibly mating with his partner. Taking. Driven by need and instinct.
The intensity was too much. She was overcome by hot rolling pleasure, sharp, hard stabbing desire…swelling, surging…and then her world shattered into starry release, warm, sweet, liquid relief. Tears gathered and fell, and, her mouth open in a silent cry of jubilation and pleasure, Jane collapsed onto her face as he swelled, pulsed, and slammed against her once more.
His groan of triumph and satiation filled her ears, prickling over her skin, then settled on her like a hot, damp blanket. His cock pulsed inside her, still thick and full, and then she felt his fingers relax. He held himself upright for a moment longer, then fell away as if utterly spent, collapsing next to her.
Jane’s wobbly knees and trembling arms gave out and she tumbled down next to him, her body still trembling and throbbing its gentle gratitude.
Warm, damp skin meshed together. She closed her eyes, her lips curved in a private smile. Her body still shuddered gently, as if clinging to the last licks of pleasure, then eased. All was quiet.
All was good.
— VII —
Jane dreamt vague dreams.
She was swimming. She was rocking and swaying and gliding. She was bundled close and she sensed the warm breeze sliding over her, gentle and comforting. She felt warm arms around her, strong and sure, and she was weightless, floating on a sea of pleasure and satiation.
“Jane.”
Someone was calling her from far away. She nestled back into the warmth of Zaren’s arms. Smelled his delicious scent. Remembered the wild urges—
“Jane! Oh, my stars,
Jane!
”
The shrill voice, very nearby, had her eyes springing open.
Her environment was so disconnected from her dreams, from her memories and expectations, that it took her a long moment to comprehend.
Efremina stood, staring down at her, shocked and wide-eyed. “You’re here! She’s
here!
She’s been here all along!” Her booming voice, filled with relief and shock of her own, filled the air in a great bellow, causing Jane to want to cover her ears and huddle…somewhere.
But there was nowhere to huddle, except here, in her very own bed. In her treehouse chamber bedroom.
She was home. Had she never left? Had it all been a dream?
Blinking, looking around, she tried to put the pieces together. They were jagged memories, none of them quite clear. None of them logical, either. She shook her head and realized it was tender and achy.
And when she tried to sit up, she realized two things simultaneously: she was nude under the blankets…and she was sore. Everywhere.
Everywhere.
All at once, before she was able to determine what happened, her father’s bald head appeared at the doorway. “Janie!” he exclaimed. “Thank the stars you’re safe!”
“We never thought to look here for you,” Efremina was saying. “When Mr. Darkdale and Mr. Jonathan came back, they said you were missing. We didn’t know where you’d been. She’s back! She’s here!” she screeched, cupping her hands around her mouth and directing her voice out the large window.
The window. Where the wild man…Zaren…had perched only nights ago.
“Why on earth would we think to look for you here?” Efremina said, as if still trying to convince herself. “Why, we wouldn’t, would we?” she demanded of Jane’s father. “She left with Mr. Jonathan, and he came back without her. He’s been terribly worried,” she said, now focusing on Jane. “He said how you was stalked by a leopard, and got separated when you tried to escape.”
Jane’s thoughts were finally coalescing. Yes. She’d gone for a walk with Jonathan…there was the interlude in the bubbling pool, all hot and wet and lust-fogged. And Kellan Darkdale. An odd tremor shuddered through her—not wholly unpleasant. She pushed the memory away.
The leopard…that part she remembered, throwing the snake down to the ground…and then the wild man. There. With her.
And then…. Her face blossomed with heat and her insides shivered wonderfully. She remembered him. Oh, yes, she remembered him. She closed her eyes and
remembered
.
“Jane!”
All at once, Jonathan was there, bursting into her treehouse chamber. “Thank Providence you’re safe! Where did you go? How did you get back here? No one saw you. We found your blanket hanging from a tree branch…. I thought I’d lost you again, darling.” He sat on the bed next to her.
At first, Jane couldn’t look at him. She had so many conflicting feelings and she wasn’t certain what he would see if he looked into her eyes.
She loved him. She wanted and desired him. And last night’s events in the hot springs had been…adventurous. Surprising. Even pleasurable. Yet dark and unsettling.
Jonathan had made a mistake, allowing Kellan to join them in their sex play. She would make certain he never did such a thing again.
But what had happened later…in the small treehouse with the wild man…. Even as her mouth watered and pangs of lust licked at her insides, Jane realized she must put it away.
She had to forget about everything. Especially Zaren.
Such a thing could never happen again. She was betrothed to a man, a well-respected Englishman. She couldn’t continue to have this sort of…
affaire
…with this wild jungle man who sneaked into her chamber, and glided with her through the air as if she were naught but a rag doll…who sneaked her back
into
her chamber with no one the wiser after fucking her senseless. Her lips eased into a smile.
Clever. Strong. Shy. Delicious.
“Jane?”
She blinked and looked at Jonathan again. His hazel eyes were filled with concern and relief. “I don’t know how you got back here safely, but I am so relieved. Please…let’s not ever be separated again.”
“Of course not, Jonathan,” she told him, and squeezed his hand. “I was sorry to cause you worry.” She noticed Efremina give her father a pointed look, and gesture sharply to the door.
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed in thought, and a little smirk quirked his lips. “Dare I ask how you are feeling today? After…last night.” His voice dropped low and deep, reminding her suddenly and starkly of the expression on his face when she was poised over him, being penetrated in the arse by his friend: bald lust, intense pleasure, possessiveness.
“I am a little…sore,” she told him, glancing at the door as it closed behind Effie and Papa. “It was…unexpected, Jonathan. And I don’t ever want—”
He was already shaking his head, his expression sober. “I know. I should never…well, you don’t understand how he is,” he said, his voice dropping low. “Darkdale can be very…persuasive, and he’s not quite a gentleman about it. But it was no excuse for my…weakness. Jane, can you ever forgive me?”
It was as if a weight was lifted from her heart. “Yes, Jonathan. We all make mistakes.” She couldn’t help but think of herself, kneeling in front of Zaren…cupping his thick, ready cock, bending to lick its tip. She cleared her throat and pushed the image away.
No. Never again.
“Perhaps we can begin anew, now that I’ve found you once more? Put past mistakes behind us?”
“Thank you, Jane,” he said, clasping her fingers tightly. “I thought I might have lost you in more ways than one. Now,” he said, his grin turning even more mischievous. “I know the most perfect way to ease…
ahem
…soreness.”
She smiled back. “And what is that, pray tell?”
“Sitting in a very warm, hot pool.”
~*~
By daylight, being in the hot springs pool was a completely different experience than the dark, unsettling adventure of the night before. Jonathan sat on a rock as she stripped off her light cotton dress and laced-up chemise.
Jane slid gratefully into the steamy water, stifling a groan of pleasure. Despite the humidity and blazing sun, she welcomed the comfort of the hot springs.
As she relaxed in the water, feeling the soothing heat against her sore muscles and nether parts, Jane looked around. In the bright sunshine, she could see a riot of flowers in fuchsia, sapphire, fiery orange, and crimson. Leaves of all shades of green, aqua, and gray danced in the dappled light in a stunning variety of textures: furry, fuzzy, jagged, smooth, bumpy, ridged….
A small spotted lizard sunned himself on a rock, and a pair of bright purple and orange birds flew about in a sassy mating dance, flitting from tree to tree,and swooping low over Jane’s head.
The jungle was filled with sound: the rustle of wind through the leaves, the songs of birds, the low calls of other land-bound animals, the rattling of branches and trunks as they clashed, the hiss from the water roiling around her.
Jane couldn’t remember a time she’d been so silent, so aware of her environment. Certainly, she’d thought of the jungle as beautiful and wild—and dangerous!—but somehow, since arriving, she’d hardly taken the time to notice the details. She rested her head back against a stone, feeling perspiration gather on her nose and temples, allowing her arms and toes to float freely in the churning water.
Her breasts bobbed and swayed, her rosy nipples peeking out and then submerging as a wave licked over them. She glanced over to see if Jonathan had noticed, for he had promised to stand guard for snakes, leopards, and beady-eyed rodents.
He was gone. Jane frowned, but she wasn’t concerned. He couldn’t have gone far; he’d be within shouting distance. Perhaps he decided to give her a moment of privacy. Or perhaps
he’d
needed a moment of privacy.
She sank into the water and soaked her hair, her groan of pleasure mingling with the grumbling pool underwater. When she came up, Jonathan was still out of sight. Still unconcerned, she used the small pot of scented bicarbonate soda to wash her long, tangled hair and the rest of her body, then sunk back under again.
When she emerged and shook out the water from her ears, she realized that the jungle had gone silent. Eerily silent.
Jane sat up and looked around, suddenly tense. The small clearing was empty. Jonathan was gone, but her clothing was still laying over a small bush to air out.
“Jonathan?” she called, gathering up her hair into a bundle. She braided it quickly, in a thick plait, still looking around nervously.
There was a rustling the bushes, and Jonathan appeared.
“Oh, thank heavens,” she said…and then she saw the angry-looking men behind him, dressed in native clothing and holding spears.
“Jane,” said her lover in a tense voice. He held his arms away from his body as the natives prodded him forward by gesturing with their spears. “Stand up very slowly and carefully.”
“Jonathan,” she whispered, her eyes darting from him to the group of six men surrounding him. Two of them brandished spears at his chest.
The strangers looked ferocious and wild, with their faces painted in blue, white, yellow and green. Each had a red stripe bisecting his face. They wore loincloths just as Zaren had, but theirs were longer and fringed. Over each chest crossed two woven straps decorated with shells, feathers and…Jane swallowed…teeth. Aside from their clothing (or lack thereof), she recognized they must be from a native tribe by the dark hair and mahogany skin.
“What do they want?” she asked. “Do you know them? Are they the tribe you lived with?”
“Jane,” Jonathan said again. “Stand up and come out of the pool slowly and carefully, or I’m afraid they might take out their impatience on me.”
She bit her lip, still safely submerged in the water. Then, gathering her wits, she did as Jonathan bid and stood slowly. As the water sluiced off her, leaving her bare and wet, she felt each pair of eyes focus on her avidly.
Her thick plait was of no help in providing modesty, and she quickly unbraided it. Swallowing hard, head held high, she walked out of the pool, pulling her loose hair over her breasts and using her hand to cover her quim as much as possible.