Wrath of the White Tigress

Chapter 22

Jaska and Zyrella slept fitfully for several hours while the storm raged. When they awoke, they guessed midnight was near. Sand was piling up as it poured inside the mouth of the cave. Luckily, the floor rose up in the back half.

At first, Jaska sulked, angry with himself for being powerless against Salahn. But soon he was staring at the wall, wringing his hands and cursing himself.

Zyrella knelt behind him and casually set her hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"I was a fool to think I could defeat Salahn. I can't even face him without paralyzing fear."

"Each time you confront him and come away, you will be stronger. Trust me."

Jaska shook his head. She put a hand to his face and turned it toward her. She stared deep into his eyes. "You are the strongest-willed man I have ever known and your heart is pure. You won't fail again."

She wrapped her arms around him. Comforting him had been her intention, but her heartbeat quickened and her mind clouded with arousal. She pressed her breasts, nipples tightening, against his back. She rubbed her hands across his chest and put her face against his. A single, cold tear was pressed against her flushed cheek.

Zyrella thought he would pull away. Instead he released a sigh like the moan of the winds outside and sank into her arms. She had stepped over the edge, both of them had. There was nothing left to do but fall. And it was strange, for they had stared over the cliff for so long and yet the falling seemed so quick and easy.

Jaska reached back and ran his hands up along her legs and hips, onto her buttocks. He pulled her in close. She ran her hands down his stomach, grasped through layers of cloth, and felt a growing hardness.

Suddenly, Zyrella arched backward. She felt as if his erection had already thrust into her, rising forcefully through her spirit meridian, pausing for a moment at each chakra until the tip pierced her mind. Her head swam, cool and empty. White light poured through unseeing eyes, the world glowing with unity. Her sex trembled and vibrated, fluttered and thumped like the wing of a hawk caught in a trap.

She slumped down, eyes screwed back, breaths coming in violent shudders. Her skin tingled, cold pins pricking every nerve.

"You all right?" he asked.

She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. "I have never felt more alive." She moaned as another wave of orgasms ricocheted through her.

"Can you give me what I need?" she asked.

He turned around and faced her. His eyes were puddles of gold surrounded by marble, like the altar of a tantric temple. "Yes."

They stripped from their clothes. Their lips met. Their souls mingled with their tongues. Seconds turned to minutes. Jaska was lost in passion and felt neither guilt nor terror. For the moment, he was free from his past, as if it had never happened. Their spirits coiled together, and he was aware that something more than mere sex was occurring, something mystical, intoxicating, mind-altering.

Her pale olive skin glistened beneath him. His cock bobbed and ached with need. He roamed all over her body with his lips, gauging her response, learning those spots she liked best. And then he thrashed the full pink lips of her sex with his tongue and gently tugged with his teeth until she again convulsed with orgasm.

Jaska entered her and they were a tangle of flesh with sand and grit, coarse and sharp, scratching between them. The experience was more energized than any ritual she had ever performed. Zyrella feared she would burst from the spirit-force he projected into her.

~~~

Jaska collapsed and rolled beside her. Zyrella fell into his arms, straining out a smile. Almost painful orgasms racked her body and continued to do so for nearly an hour. The storm still raged outside. Demons could fall upon them at any moment, even Salahn himself, but they didn't care.