Lydia waited for Durril. To her frustration, he's accustomed to living here near the small town of Sapanta; and yet she feels the need to move on. When the people who once feared and scorned you now nod their heads in acknowledgement, it's time to go. Durril likes to drink and sing with the local men in the bars, he doesn't realise he's still considered an outsider, he never considers himself as an outsider. Others have sounded their opinions that we should move south to warmer regions, and she agrees. She craves the sun against her skin, and to come out of the shade of these heavy, cold forests. Durril struggles between the love of what's familiar and the need to seek the new. She needs something new.
She had spent most of the day in the caravan. She packed her belongings and tied the bundles down tight with leather. She salted the corners of the room and lit candles to dispel the ill feelings that have lingered around them for weeks.
She heard Durril come in long after nightfall. He stumbled about the kitchen and then pulled back the curtain that separated the bed from the rest of the room. He leaned against the wall and looked at her in that hungry way that always stirred her. There was a hint of a smile on his lips almost hidden by his moustache and a glimmer of lust in his eyes.
"I have been waiting for you," she said as she turned her face away from his gaze.
He said nothing but his smile grew wide. He kneeled onto the bed and put his hands on her shoulders; she relaxed under the heat of his palms. He bent down and smelled her hair, lifting the heavy tendrils and peppered her neck with small kisses. Her skin quivered from the brush of his lips. He knew she was angry with him for being out so long, but he always knew how to make her body sing with forgiveness.
"You are my beautiful love," he whispered in her ear.
"I belong to no man," she said, and leaned back against his chest. She slid her arms up behind her and wound her fingers into his hair pulling him closer to her. He reached down and cupped her breasts, brushing her nipples with his thumbs until they stood hard against his palms.
"You belong to me," he said again softly, pulling her around to face him. He could see the need in her eyes as he bent down to kiss her, gentle and soft, but she returned with a hard urgency which excited him. He felt her reach for his belt and pull his shirt free. She moved her hands under his shirt and over his back. "You see, you are my woman, you belong to me,"
"I belong to no man," she said again, breathing heavily. He didn't like this, they have been bonded for years, and she was his. He would show her the truth of this.
He deepened their kisses and put his hand under her skirt, sliding his hand up until he found her hot center. She was already wet for him, and he slipped his thumb against her tender spot until she moaned sweetly to him. He knew her body well, knew how to play her until she cried for him. And he didn't have to wait long. She never begged, but her body always betrayed her desire for him and he answered her by lifting her up onto his lap and sliding hotly into her.
Lydia wrapped her legs around his waist and matched his hard rhythm. "You are mine," he whispered into her ear, "You are mine," and he grasped her hips and ground himself hard against her until he could feel her body grip him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she cried out. He crushed her against his chest holding her as close as possible until he felt his own rush of pleasure.
She pulled away from his embrace and he didn't fight her. He layed back on the bed and watched her get up and straighten her clothes. "Come back," he said lazily.
"No," she said as she brushed her hair and kept her back to him.
"My darling..." he started sleepily, but she interrupted "I am not yours. I belong to no man." and she took her brush and put it into her bag. She picked up her satchels and turned to look at him at last, "I'm going."
"Fine. Go. You will be back to keep me warm later, I'm sure." he slurred and fell off to sleep without hearing her shut the door.
Lydia walked down the path past the owl's pine up to the green caravan with it's lamps still lit. She didn't knock on the door. She opened it and walked in, dropping her bags on the chair. "You've come at last, I've been waiting forever." said a handsome young man from the back of the caravan. He walked up to her and lifted her chin to his lips and kissed her "Are we ready to leave?"
"Yes. We leave tonight." He bent down and picked her up into his arms and carried her over to his bed. "Now, you are mine," he said as he put her upon the bed, parting her legs with his knee.
"I belong to no man."
(and yes I wrote this in three hours, not really paying attention to edits and I feel a wee bit pukey at the thought of publishing it, but I should just get over myself and stop being so prudish. Mom if you read it, So sorry!! To the rest of the world, Fucking EEK and be kind eh? And, I was watching The 10th Kingdom recently so that may've had an impact. I going to annoy the Hubs now by saying "My Name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die." until he roughs me up a bit. Tomorrow: Birkenstocks and tootsies for HNT.)