Disclaimers: BeastMaster characters and concept are property of their creators. No copyright infringement intended. Original characters and story are property of the author.
Spoilers: Believe it or not, not a single one. Just pure smut, this is. <eg>
Rating: NC-17.
Why haven't I
thought of it before?
This body,
remembering yours,
is the keepsake you left.
-- Izumi Shikibu
(Japan, c. 1000 CE)
Keepsake
© 2000, Grace Macy
The night was cool, but pleasantly so -- a nice change from the intensity of the day's heat. Dar and Tao decided to camp beside a river for the added cool offered by the wind off the water.
She watched them from the bank, hidden by night and the magick that was a part of her as they lay down for the night and slept. They were very different in looks, but each was beautiful in his own way. She smiled as she regarded them; she could not have been more pleased with these answers to her recent prayers. The animals might have been a problem, but her magick allowed her to settle them firmly into sleep. She turned her attention back to the two virile young men and smiled in anticipation.
Gently, she slipped into their dreams, searching for just the right image to portray. The light-haired one was easy, but the dark-haired man was a pleasant surprise: there was no one who had owned his heart in a long time, and she could be herself. Not that being herself would ever have been a problem. She wore no clothing, for a nymph was a part of the very waters when she wished.
She was slender and small-boned, with a narrow waist and small, high breasts. Hair the color of moonlight spilled down her back almost past her thighs in carelessly tousled waves, matching the nest of curls between her legs. She had lived for centuries, but the color of her hair was not an indication of that any more than her young face would have been.
It was a gift of her kind, and at times a necessity, to make waking moments seem like dreams. These two lovely young men would both be very much awake, their reactions unhindered, but it would appear a dream and with that appearance bring absolute freedom.
She hesitated in choosing between the two men. They were each so lovely, and in each one's heart and mind she sensed a gentleness and goodness -- and a certain loneliness -- that called sweetly for reward and soothing. She looked at the fair-haired one and smiled, nodding to herself. This one's heart had been hurt recently, and greatly; she would go to him first.
She knelt by his side, gently reaching into his dreams to turn them in the direction she wished before waking him. Soft green eyes opened slowly and focused on her, seeing the image his mind most wished to perceive. Still dreaming, though he was awake, he reached for her, his fingers gentle as they caressed her cheek. "Kyra," he whispered.
"Yes, my love," she murmured, smiling. She felt joy in her own heart at the easing of pain in his eyes. His hand slipped behind her head and pulled her down for a kiss. She went quite willingly.
His mouth was hot and sweet, his lips and tongue moving expertly, with a gentle passion that took her breath away. She pulled away slowly and he sat up, his arms encircling her waist as she straightened. Like fire against her cool skin, his mouth traced a path down from her throat, then paused over her breasts. Lightly, he kissed each one, feather-light, then growing in intensity as he circled closer to one nipple. She gasped in surprise and pleasure as his mouth descended on the tight bud, tasting, suckling. She sighed and arched her back slightly, her fingers twining through his hair. It had been a long time since she had had a lover who paid such attentions to his mate.
His mouth left one breast and went to the other, repeating the caress, the touch growing more demanding as his own arousal grew at the sounds of her soft moan. His hands wandered across her skin, leaving fire in their wake, sliding in unknowable patterns, dipping between her legs to find her more than ready. She smiled down at him as he pulled away from his higher caresses, and kissed him. A simple wave of her hand discarded his little clothing; another handy magick her kind possessed.
He kissed her back with that same gentle passion, slowly growing rougher as she shifted position. She could sense his arousal and readiness, and smiled down at him again as she moved to straddle his hips. Their eyes met, tension singing between them as she paused, then slowly, so slowly, lowered herself onto his waiting member. A soft gasp came from both their throats and he kissed her again, ardently now, taking and giving with his mouth as he did with his body. She moaned softly and moved above him, lifting and then lowering herself again, sweetly impaled by his cock, moving in a rhythm as old as time.
Tension wound tighter and tighter, pleasure escalating with each touch, each thrust, each kiss. She moved faster, her thighs showing a smooth ripple of muscle as she rose and fell, and his hands encouraged her, slipping beneath her ass and caressing almost gently. She could feel him growing ever closer to climax, as she herself came nearer to that height, until with another gasp and a low cry, the world exploded. They came too close together to separate who climaxed first, and discarded the debate, only concentrating on moving together.
He felt her inner muscles clench tightly about him, gladly taking every last drop his body had to offer, and was astonished when after a brief pause, she climaxed again. She shivered slightly in his arms, caught up in the intensity of the pleasure, and he kissed her throat, chin and mouth in comfort and encouragement as she let out a little cry. He lowered himself back down onto his back slowly, pleasantly spent, and pulled her down with him. She obliged and lay limp against him for a long while, her breathing uneven, her cool skin slick with droplets of water.
Finally, she raised herself up with her hands on either side of his shoulders and kissed him, sweetly, gently. He smiled at her, a bit drowsily from their exertions, and kissed her a second time as she pulled away. She touched his face and his hair, then gently pushed against his mind, releasing him from waking and spinning the web of sleep snug about his mind. As his eyes closed and his breathing evened out, she smiled softly and kissed his forehead. "Thank you," she whispered. He stirred only slightly, and she smoothed back his hair again, then moved to kneel beside him and returned the loincloth to its original place on his body.
She leaned back on her heels for a moment, recovering, then turned her head to look over at the second man. He looked just as heartbreakingly peaceful as he slept, dark lashes creating crescents against his cheeks. She wondered if his eyes were as dark as those lashes, if his touch would be as gentle as his soul. She stood and went to find out.
His dreams wandered interesting paths, leading him on adventures almost as strange as the ones he had encountered in life. She touched his mind gently, guiding it towards a softer place -- and felt resistance in the form of fear. Not of her, or of her touch, but at feeling in a dream the kind of affection he had not had in life for far too long. She sighed in sympathy and bent to kiss his forehead softly. No dream for this one, at least not entirely. He did not see his own beauty, for the attraction women felt towards his traveling companion oft-times eclipsed it . . . and the women he had known before and while traveling had been, in her opinion, unfortunately stupid.
She touched his mind only slightly, easing any panic he might have felt upon waking to find a strange woman beside him and his friend still fast asleep. She kissed his forehead again, then moved down to his eyes, cheeks, and finally lips. When she raised her head again, his eyes were opening. The most amazing, clear, green-gold irises reflected firelight up at her. Oh my, she thought faintly.
"Who are you?" he asked softly.
His voice was deeper than she would have expected, a near-bass that sent a shiver straight through to her spine, and lower. Oh my, her mind repeated numbly. Self-preservation and years of practice enabled her to push past the delicious thrumming that had taken over her body, and she smiled at him. Remembering a phrase from his memory, she whispered back, "Someone who has taken to you quite well."
Perhaps too well, some part of her whispered. Even nymphs had stories about love at first sight, about soul-mates. She didn't want to think about it right now. The problems inherent in such a relationship with a human -- not the least of which was their tendency to age and die -- were too painful to contemplate. Before either he or her mind could say more, she leaned forward and kissed him softly.
His lips were soft under hers, and were parted only because he had been about to speak. His eyes closed despite his confusion. She didn't press him, but her mouth lingered on his, cool against warmth, asking and promising. When she pulled away, his eyes opened slowly. He regarded her for a long moment, then said, "You're a nymph."
She nodded. "This is my river," she confirmed, trying to ignore the things his voice was so unexpectedly doing to her body.
He frowned slightly. "What do you want?"
She smiled softly at him, her eyes open and sincere. "You," she answered. "For tonight. One night."
"Why?"
She raised an eyebrow. He blushed, his gaze going to her very bare skin, and tried valiantly to drag his gaze right back up to her face again. He amended, "I mean -- why me? "
She cocked her head slightly. "Because you are beautiful, and kind, and good. Because your heart is pure and your mind is quick. . . . Because your dreams journey in ways I have not seen in other men."
He chuckled. "You haven't met other Eirons."
She touched his face lightly with her fingertips, tracing the strong cheekbones. "I had not met you," she murmured. She raised her eyes to meet his own, and the gentleness of her gaze stilled his voice. "Lie with me this night. Please?"
He stared at her, then swallowed and looked around her to where his friend slept. "Dar--"
"Will not wake," she assured him. "Nor will the beasts."
He frowned at her. "But I did. That's . . . not in the stories."
She smiled. "I wished to see your eyes." She touched his face again gently. "I was not disappointed. . . . Shall I be now?" He looked at her for a long moment, undecided. She whispered, "One night only, sweet love, before you continue on your way. Please. . ."
There was fear in her heart now; she did not need to mate with this one, but for the first time in her long life, she truly wanted to. There was something in him, something she sensed in his heart and his mind, which called to her. She did not need to give him a choice, and now that she had she would not take it away . . . but if he declined, she was certain her heart would break.
He looked at her consideringly, then so slowly that her breath caught in her throat in anticipation, he raised himself fully until he was sitting. His mouth touched hers, lightly. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to his gently questing touch. As the other had, he curved his fingers gently against her cheek, sliding back through the rich tumble of her hair to cup the back of her head. They stayed that way for a long while, only their mouths touching, exploring, slowly building desire even before their hands joined in the caresses.
One arm wrapped about her waist, pulling her closer to him, as his other hand slipped away from her head and glided down the smooth skin of her back. She sighed and moved her own hands, down to the soft folds of his shirt, pulling up the hem almost clumsily. She had not manually removed a man's clothing in a long time, but with him, she wanted that extra touch. She wanted to see and feel his skin slowly revealed by her own fingers. She wanted to dip her head, as she did now, to kiss and taste that smooth silk as she tossed the shirt away, her hands returning to slide down his shoulders. She wanted to rake her nails ever so lightly up the soft skin of his back as she felt his own hands move across her back to her hips.
Those lovely long fingers slid gently along her thighs, slipping between her legs, front and back, and teasing the sensitive skin in both areas. She arched against him, letting out a low moan of encouragement and pleading. He shifted so that he was kneeling, their bodies facing one another, and placed his hands back at her hips as he kissed her again. Gently, he maneuvered them until her back was to the pack he had been using as a pillow. Then, slowly, their eyes locked, he pushed her down onto the blanket. She smiled up at him and used her magick; she was pleased that his only reaction to the sudden feel of air against his lower body was a bemused smile. She got the feeling it took a lot to shake him; she intended to try.
He knelt beside her and lightly traced his hand down her thigh. She smiled and lifted her leg, and moved it so that he knelt instead within the arch of her thighs. He smiled and leaned down slowly, making her breath catch again in anticipation until his mouth finally touched her breasts with a single light kiss on each. Then his lips moved down, kissing a path to her belly across her ribs, then down to the slight indent of her navel. His tongue flicked out there, dipping into her belly-button, then back out to be replaced by a light nip of his teeth. She shivered and remained still, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders as she waited to see what he would do.
She didn't have to wait long. With an ease that bespoke at least one woman who had not been blind, his mouth continued on its path until his lips passed through the nest of white curls to the folds of her sex. Exquisitely slow, his tongue slipped between the labia, tasting her as he drew the moisture upwards to the small bundle of nerves hidden at the top. Pearl-like, it awaited the touch of that sweet, warm tongue, and she let out a low sound that could almost have been a purr as that touch arrived.
He pleasured her for a long time, despite the strong pulse of arousal she could feel from his mind. His mouth moved slowly, expertly, drawing her out of herself, heightening pleasure in a way she had not experienced for a hundred years. Drawing it out, urging her on and then subduing her, only to return her to the heights until she cried out and arched underneath him, caught up in the sudden, overwhelming climax. He continued, softly, soothing now -- and the very gentleness of the touch made her climax again. He left her sex then, kissing his way back up her body as sweetly and slowly as he had traveled down before. When he reached her mouth, his skin almost feverish against hers as their bodies touched, she kissed him hard. "Now!" she whispered urgently.
He kissed her softly and finally allowed himself to partake in the pleasure. Slowly, he entered her, groaning slightly at how tight she was, both from the recent climax and from her own slender form. She gasped a "Yes," and lifted her legs to wrap about his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on. He kissed her again, and she smiled against his mouth and raked her nails lightly across his shoulders, just hard enough to hurt. He gasped and then let out a small growl, capturing her mouth again, harder this time, demanding.
She gave back as good as she got, both in the kiss and as she rocked her hips up, changing the angle slightly as he drove into her again. Hard and slow, setting up a rhythm that had them both gasping at the intensity of their pleasure, made her writhe underneath him, her voice forming low cries of pleading and encouragement. His hips met hers again, and again, as he continued driving into her, creating a wonderful friction with every thrust.
He spoke love-words and nonsense, telling her how beautiful she was, how sweet, and lovely, and wonderful. His voice combined with the feel of his body, both winding deep inside her, feeding the fire that banked slowly into a blaze, turning her mind and spirit and body into a shining creation that was somehow made new again after centuries of immortal life. She felt him begin to climax at the same time as the world shattered into uncountable pieces within and around her. Her being exploded upwards to soar through the stars -- and in that instant, feeling completely unguarded, unfearing, she opened her mind to him.
She heard and felt his gasp, his eyes widening as he felt his own spirit caught up, joining in the dance as the universe reeled and a fragment of new life was created. For a brief moment, he saw her truly bare, her spirit as well as her soul. She felt the touch of his mind: gentle, wondering, asking questions she could never answer even if she knew the replies. Instead she touched his soul and showed him how beautiful he was, how much he had to give to the woman who would find him and deserve him.
Then the stars receded and the connection closed. The night was dark once more, the breeze only wind against their heated skin. He lowered himself down, exhausted, and shifted slightly to lay by her side so that his weight would not fall on her. She smiled and turned onto her side to face him, her hands pushing the dampened hair away from his forehead. Gods, but she had never felt like this . . . never felt so whole, so complete . . . She felt an echo of her sentiment in his mind and soul.
They smiled at each other, still sharing that fantastic moment even though it had faded. He surprised himself with a yawn and she chuckled softly. "You need to sleep," she told him.
He sighed and looked away from her, his eyes suddenly sad as he asked, "Will I remember this?"
She smiled and kissed his forehead. "You will remember as much as you wish to remember, sweet love."
He smiled, touching her face, and then kissed her. "Everything," he murmured.
She smiled back at him and nodded, knowing that at least one small thing would be kept from his memories: how much he truly meant to her now, the gift he had given her this night. Nymphs needed a mortal man with whom to conceive a child, but the conception was not always assured, which was why she had been glad to see two men. But now she knew that it had been only him she had needed; he was the piece of her soul that she had never even known was missing. She could feel the new life within her already, and knew it would be a wondrous child indeed.
She smiled and told him only, "Sleep, sweet love. When you wake--"
"You will be only a memory," he completed with a sigh.
She nodded. "It is the way it must be. One night, and only one night."
He sighed again, but nodded. "Then it is a night I will cherish always." He closed his eyes and she pushed slightly until he gave in to sleep, then replaced his clothing.
She watched him for a long time, then lifted her hand, holding it palm up into a clear beam of moonlight. She used one finger of her other hand to make a small cut in the center of her palm. Moonlight mixed with the clear blood and formed a stone in the shape of a teardrop, a little larger than a cherry's pit. The stone was almost clear, but within it shone the harmony of moon, stars, and the magick of her own heart.
She smiled and kissed the gem lightly, then placed it in his sleeping hand and curled his fingers close about it. When he woke in the morning, wondering if it truly had been a dream, he would have proof of her reality. She trusted him to not share it with his friend. She stood and returned to her river, and never allowed herself to look back.
Dar slept peacefully with dreams of his Kyra. Tao dreamed of new journeys and the love that awaited him. The night continued, awaiting the birth of a new day.
--Finis--
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