Read Vulcan's Woman Online

Authors: Jennifer Larose

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance, #Science Fiction

Vulcan's Woman (7 page)

The Barbarian pushed the flap aside. “In,” he grumbled,
stepping in between her and the little creature.

She didn’t want to enter his dwelling. She didn’t. She’d
rather die than become a prisoner under his command. “Let him come too,” she
begged. “He’s just a baby.”

Surprisingly the chieftain moved from Birmon’s path,
allowing him to shuffle into the hut. After securing the flap from the inside,
the Barbarian led Wisteria to his hides and sat her down by pressing on her
shoulders.

Birmon snuggled on the ground at her hip and after wiggling
into a comfortable position he tucked himself under his wings. Careful not to
disturb him, she backed into the stone wall as far as the rope allowed and
rested her head against a smooth rock to where she could watch the Barbarian’s
every move. “Why’d you fool your people?” she dared ask.

Seconds droned by without a response. The dead silence,
breached only by her audible breaths, nestled warily in her belly. “If your
philosophy is to do unto others,” she continued, “why didn’t you hurt me?”

As if unnerved by the question, he walked to the water hole,
squatted and held a cup beneath the stream. “Drink,” he said, handing her the
full cup.

She grabbed it between both hands and gulped, emptying the
contents. It could’ve been filled with anything and she would have gladly guzzled
it to quench her immense thirst.

The refreshing liquid soothed her parched throat before
settling in a puddle inside her tummy. “Are you going to answer me?” she asked,
raising her voice to mute the sloshing sounds coming from her belly.

He removed the cup from her hands and turned slightly to set
it on a ledge surrounding the water hole.

“Well?” she goaded. Obviously he didn’t want to talk. But
why would he? He wasn’t from a personable tribe who enjoyed communication. What
would make her an exception?

She took a moment to dry her lips with the back side of her
hand while he dunked his arm in the water and rinsed off the blood. At least he
had the decency to give her a drink first. “Listen, I’m here because you
abducted me from my home. You can at―”

“I saved you,” he snarled, causing her to gasp and scoot
closer to the wall. “From your own kin,” he added.

Without another word he clasped her wrist in his hand and
began washing the blood from her as well. He refilled the cup with water and
poured it over her arm. Then he rubbed her skin. Quite gently. Surprisingly
gentler than she’d expected, and he rinsed it over and over until the
red-tainted water turned clear.

Agilely he rose, the snout of the bison mask pointing
directly at her face while he straightened to full height.

She tore her gaze from his intimidating size and glanced at
Birmon, his tiny body twitching in sleep. “Unlike now, I deserved the
punishment,” she said. “I betrayed them. I knew the ramifications of my actions
but I didn’t care.” She laid her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
“You heard my sister.”

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Reluctantly her lashes fluttered open.

“Yes, I heard. And I felt it my responsibility to get you
out of there before they seriously hurt or killed you.”

“The responsible thing to do now would be to let me go.”

“I can’t do that.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. He wasn’t providing
the answers she wanted but at least he acted partially civilized. “I belong
with my people. I’ll beg for their forgiveness until they take me back.”

“The people who beat you until you bled?”

She had no choice. Where else could she go? If he hadn’t
bludgeoned… No, she had to remain hopeful they were alive. “We have honor to
uphold. If punishment isn’t enacted for breaking rules, the children…”
Mercy,
the children!
“They will grow without discipline. I was an example. I
deceived my people and I paid for it.”

“Paid for it?” he mocked. “Well, you’ll no longer have to
pay. I’m accountable for you now.”

Her eyes flew open. Was that a confession? She gasped at his
condescending tone and held her breath for a long moment. “What did you do?” He
remained quiet. Too quiet. For far too long. “Did you…” She couldn’t finish the
question. She filled her lungs with air as a sickened feeling washed over her
and she lowered her gaze to the ground. “Did you…kill my people?”

“Look at me, Wisteria,” he shouted.

Her head snapped upward at the use of her name and her
heartbeat faltered. Despite his anger, she swore regret dominated his voice.

“No.” He dropped the leash on the ground at his feet and
placed his hands on the sides of the bison head. “I did not kill your people.”
With a slight tug he removed the mask.

No! Oh no!
Her eyes bulged as long, dark, unbound
hair fell over his shoulders.
It can’t be. No!
“Vulcan!” She staggered
to her feet, pressing her hands into the wall for stability. “You…you…you’re a
Barbarian?”

“Yes, Wisteria, I’m a Barbarian.”

“A bloodthirsty savage!” She closed her eyes and reopened
them slowly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have mattered?”

“Yes!”

“It wasn’t the right time.”

“But-but,” she stuttered, “you kissed me.”

“And?”

“I wouldn’t have allowed it. You deceived me.”

“But you didn’t deceive the man you’d been promised to by
allowing it?”

She hung her head and stared at the ground. Dumfounded.
Mortified. And at a complete loss for words.

“I needed your trust before I could disclose the truth. I
didn’t want you to fear me as you do now.” He set the headpiece on the ground
then disrobed to his loincloth, tossing the furs in a pile near Birmon. “Since
I didn’t get that chance, I was going to reveal myself when you woke on my lap
so you wouldn’t be frightened, but―”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, Wisteria,” he said as he bent down and wrapped the end
of the rope around his hand. “When you escaped, you became my captive.” He
lifted the leash and shook it. “This is what happens. You get bound. Things
change.”

“I became your prisoner the instant your men cut me free
from the stoning trees.”

“You’re wrong. You were still a victim when I placed you on
my lap.” He slowly took a stance, locking his eyes on hers. “Be glad it was me
who disrupted your beating instead of another tribe.”

Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. “I’m supposed
to be glad a Barbarian captured me? Have you gone berserk?”

“I’ll say this only once more. You were not my captive
until
you tried escaping. That’s when you forced me to utilize my position.”

“Why didn’t you tell me at the lake? You left me there for
your…your Barbarians to find.”

“I instructed my men to return you unharmed.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better? “You set me up.”

“You gave me no choice. I couldn’t let you run free. Nor
could I abandon my duties as chieftain and reveal my identity to my captive
before punishment was delivered. You stripped me of all options.”

“I never hurt you. How could you do this?”

“Like your people, we have honor to uphold and rules to
follow. Two of which you broke. Fleeing from captivity and attacking a
tribesman are heavy offenses.”

“What did you expect? I was fighting for my life.”

“What did
you
expect? That you’d actually get away?”

“I had to try.” She tore her gaze free from his chest. His
magnificent, powerful,
Barbarian
chest. “I was frightened of you.”

“You had no reason to be frightened of me.” He tugged on the
belly rope just enough to pull her backside away from the wall. “Have I hurt
you?”

“Nn-Nn-Nnoo. Not really.”

Another tug brought her a little closer. “I’m not a monster,
Wisteria.”

She begged to differ. “Anyone who rips hearts from chests
with their bare hands is not human.”

“What are you saying? That I’m not worthy of you?” He gave
the rope yet another tug.

“Please,” she begged. She gulped and locked her hands around
the leash, yanking in opposition. She didn’t want to move any closer. She
didn’t. “Vulcan, please stop,” she whimpered, digging her feet into the ground.
Why’d she even attempt to fight him? She’d witnessed his strength when he’d
lifted Sledge off his feet with his bare fists.

“Don’t be afraid of me.” His voice lowered and eyes
narrowed. “I won’t harm you.”

He pulled her within an arm’s reach but didn’t touch her.
Instead he continued to inch her forward and she regretted every single step.
Her belly vaulted. “You’re the enemy,” she said solemnly.

Another subtle tug brought her nose to nearly touching his
chest. “I’m a man. Did you fear me when you were embraced in my arms?”

How absurd to even suggest it. She’d felt nothing beyond his
security at that time as his body heat had wrapped around her, like now,
causing a multitude of tingly sensations. She shook her head because at the
moment she couldn’t speak. Strange things happened. Strange, wonderful things.
She inhaled a short, raspy breath, released the leash and lowered her hands at
her sides, squeezing them into fists.

“Did you fear me when I kissed you?”

No, she hadn’t feared him then either. How could she when
his lips offered gentle possession? Again she shook her head, indulging in his
warm breath as it caressed her face.

“Look at me.”

She did just as he dropped the rope.

He slid his hands in the hair above her ears and tilted her
face. “I’m human like you. I feel pain and passion.”

Inhaling sharply, she raised her gaze to his dark,
mysterious eyes as his thumbs began a gentle massage along her brow bones. She
loved his eyes. She’d fallen in love with them at the lake. But that was
before, when she hadn’t a clue about his true identity.

“I can be your friend as well as lover.”

He stepped closer, removing the space between their bodies.
So close in fact, her breasts pressed into his breastbone. Her breath caught.
She released it shakily with a soft hiss.

“And I can treasure your body as you deserve.”

Temptation to touch his muscular chest built in her fingers.
She squeezed her hands into fists, fighting the prohibited urges. “You…” She
paused, fluttering her eyelids closed, trying to compose herself.

Gazing into his eyes was turning her into a wanton victim. A
woman reaching the breaking point. Even his prior words of
making love
became foremost in her mind. If she didn’t stop this now she’d defy her own
morals and beliefs. “You mustn’t say such things. You can’t do this. We…can’t
do this.”

He patted her nose with his lips. Her knees weakened and she
instinctively leaned forward for balance. It brought his arms around her waist
and her lower tummy flush against his hard, manly organ. Her eyes sprang open.
“Vulcan, please release me.”

For a moment longer he held her then unclasped his arms and
stepped aside. “A title doesn’t make a man, Wisteria. It’s what’s in here.” He
tapped a finger on his chest above his heart. “You met the man first. You
didn’t fear me then. Why now?”

How could she answer that? She initially couldn’t so she
chewed on her bottom lip and sat down next to Birmon, concentrating on what to
say. Unfortunately the only thing coming to mind was the truth. “Because you’re
a beast. You rip bodies apart with your bare hands. You burn people alive for
no reason. I watched you kill a man. Do I need to say more?”

“What I killed was not a man.”

“It was! I saw him with my own eyes.”

“No, Wisteria, he might have looked like a man from a
distance, but he was not human.”

“Maybe he was poisoned,” she screeched, “and only needed an
antidote.”

“I understand your fear, but I’m not going to stand here
trying to explain the truth when you’re not willing to listen.” He crossed the
hut but before he walked outside he locked his dark, sinister gaze on her eyes.
“I would never hurt you. You suffered more pain from your
peaceful
clan
than you have from my tribe, and you should have realized that by now. I
brought you to safety and tended your wounds. I could have stripped you and
taken you against your will, but I refused to hurt you, Wisteria.” He shook his
head as if in disbelief. “Are those typical actions from a merciless killer?”
He threw the flap aside and disappeared into the night.

Chapter Seven

 

Wisteria lay on her side under a fur near Birmon, her hands
tucked beneath her cheek and eyes partially closed. She was freezing. She had
been since she and Vulcan had returned from the lake. Despite his anger he’d
allowed her to bathe under his supervision. He’d washed too then stood near the
forest wall while she scrubbed off the day’s soils. Loo-La hadn’t surfaced but
neither had Wisteria stayed in the water long enough to wait.

If only she were lying closer to the fire to utilize its
warmth but that was where Vulcan sat and she’d decided to stay as far away from
him as possible.

She wanted him to believe she slept when in fact she lay
watching him. Soft glow from the flames illuminated half of his masculine body
while their shadows flickered along the back wall.

Her belly remained upset from earlier. After she’d insulted
him. Right before he’d stormed out. Even when he returned awhile later and
silently walked her to the lake, it hadn’t eased. The knot twisting in the pit
was a constant reminder of her cruel words. But she’d spoken the truth. She
couldn’t help what he was any more than he could. If he’d come to terms with
his reputation he’d understand her reasoning.

How long had she been lying there unable to sleep? In her
state of exhaustion it seemed like forever.

Vulcan glanced at her from across the hut. She snapped her
eyes shut. The distance between them was too great to distinguish whether she
was sleeping or not but she wouldn’t chance him catching her awake. She
couldn’t stomach another confrontation.

She separated her lashes and peeked. He’d returned his
attention to the fire, tending it with a gnarled stick. He really was a
gorgeous man. Rugged and frightening at a glance but gorgeous. And the way his
arms flexed when stirring the ashes stirred her tummy as well. From the moment
she’d met him he’d invaded her thoughts. She even told Ivy she would occupy her
mind with visions of him while Sledge forced her to mate. Vulcan refused to
subject her to that type of treatment. Inevitably Sledge would take her against
her will. Her own clansman. The one who’d whipped her so harshly she’d bled.

Yet Vulcan set her free.

Perhaps he’d killed the Flesh Eater to protect his tribe.
After all, the Flesh Eaters were killers and had run her clan from their home
and killed her siblings. It might have been only a short time before
reinforcements arrived in an attempt to wipe out the Barbarians.

Maybe she’d gotten it all wrong. Maybe
she
should
place reputation aside and accept Vulcan for the man she’d encountered at the
lake. The man who’d embraced her gently and given her that first kiss. The man
who’d released her the instant she’d asked. The man who said he’d cherish her
entire body with his mouth and hands.

Heat rose to her face and her tummy stirred yet again with
warmth from the memory of those words.

Yes, perhaps she’d gotten it wrong. She currently shared a
space with the man who’d treated her with kindness and seemed to care about her
the most. He’d even led his own tribe into believing he’d sliced her arm on
Grunt’s behalf. If Vulcan intended to hurt her, he would’ve done so by now.

Would he forgive her? Could he?

She quietly tossed the fur aside and slowly stood, hoping
she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. If he looked at her now she may lose
the nerve to apologize for the way she’d acted.

As inconspicuously as possible she sauntered across the hut.
Only a few steps remained when he turned and looked into her eyes. Her belly rolled
nervously but he shunned her, returning his attention to the fire. She sat down
directly beside him, folding her legs to the side before reaching upward to
touch his shoulder. She lost her nerve and retracted her hand.

Silence droned parallel to her tumultuous emotions while she
stared at the orange and yellow flames that romped in the pit. She inhaled a
deep breath, switching her gaze from the fire to his body. Dark hair covered
his legs and sitting close enough to touch it sent thrills along her spine.
Though tempted to reach sideways and slide her hand along his thigh, she
wouldn’t dare, not knowing the ramifications of touching him so personally
while he ultimately remained upset with her.

Laying her hands in her lap, she glanced at his profile where
the fire glowed along his chiseled features. “Vulcan, I’m sorry,” she said
softly.

His jaw twitched as he turned and peered at her for a mere
second but it was enough time to see the flames reflected in his eyes. Eyes the
color of a night sky, infused with so much emotion she could have wept. “I
don’t want to fight. I want things as they were before. Like when you held and
kissed me.”

She turned his head sideways and lifted his chin. “Look at
me,” she whispered, using the command he’d effectively used on her.

For a long, intense moment his gaze played over her face,
causing her lips to tremble and throat to thicken. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
She’d never been in a situation to beg for forgiveness and she wasn’t sure what
to say. “Please don’t be mad at me. I can’t help it that I fear the Barbarians.
I need you to know that to help you understand.”

She inhaled sharply and momentarily nibbled on the inside
corner of her mouth. “I’ve heard horrible stories about how the tribe tortured
and mutilated innocent people. But you,” she smiled bittersweetly, “are the
gentlest man I know.” She released his chin and lowered her gaze to his chest,
wishing he’d say something, anything. “You see, my fear of your kind has been
ingrained in me. If I hadn’t met you at the lake prior to tonight, I would be
curled up in a corner in tears.”

“We don’t victimize innocents, Wisteria, and we don’t attack
unless provoked. Only our own are burned, and it’s upon death.”

She reclaimed his eyes. “Everything I’ve learned is a lie?”

“Not everything. We’re fighters. We’ll die protecting our
tribe however and with whatever means necessary.” He paused to study her,
apparently giving her a moment to digest the information. “We were nearly taken
down in battle once. Because of that experience, we do what we have to in order
to survive. Even if it means using our weapons.”

Like the blade I used to cut Grunt.

“You saw me kill a mutant, not a man. Believe me when I say
he was not human.”

“What do you mean by a mutant?”

“It’s something that’s been altered or changed. Birmon is a
good example.”

She nodded slightly though she still didn’t understand. “But
he acts all right.”

“Yes, he was born that way. The other has somehow been
tampered with. It’s as if he died, yet his body continues to function without a
soul.”

How was that possible?

She sighed and lowered her gaze to her lap. She’d never
process his theory so it was best to trust his explanation and move on. “Can we
please put the past events behind us and start over?”

“Regardless of my reputation and what happened, Wisteria,
don’t be frightened of me. Neither I nor my people will ever hurt you.”

“I don’t fear you.” She forced another smile. “Not anymore.
When your men returned me to your camp, I thought you might have been captured
and killed. I couldn’t bear the thought. Now here you are. We’ve been brought
back together for a reason.”

She placed her hand on his cheek. The soft bristles tickled
her palm. Fighting a bit of reluctance, she rose to her knees. They trembled.
She sat back down to steady herself.

He slid his hand beneath her hair, cupping it around the
base of her neck. The strength in his fingers belied his gentle touch. Her
heart skipped a beat and her tummy fluttered as she softly drew a contented
breath.

She laid her hand on his forearm, resting her fingers near
the trail of blood crusted along his cut. The cut meant for her. The one he’d
taken in her place, sparing her pain.

Very carefully she ran her fingertips near the edge. Her
lashes fluttered and her eyes closed before she tilted her head and pressed her
lips against his wrist. She didn’t know whether to apologize or show gratitude.
Either would elicit her tears.

At the onset of his airy massage near her hairline, she
peeled her lips from his skin and reopened her eyes. “I want to prove to you
how sorry I am, Vulcan. I want to make love to you,” she paused and inhaled a
shaky breath, “but I don’t know how.”

Although he didn’t respond immediately, his fingers
tightened slightly. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

“I want to. Will you help me?”

“Wisteria—”

“Shhh.” She rested her fingers over his mouth and kissed the
corner of his lips. “Please? I’ve thought of it very often.”

Slightly he raised his chin just enough to kiss her fingers
and guide them into his mouth. Her breath snagged. She closed her eyes,
savoring the feel of his tongue as it circled her fingertips. So soft…so
warm…and…so moist. The wet, cushiony texture reminded her of the consistency of
her private area when she’d fondled herself. The sweet pressure she remembered
began building there again and her heartbeat faltered.

She dragged a shallow amount of air into her lungs and bit
down on her bottom lip. As he suckled her fingers she moaned softly. She’d
never felt anything so…so exciting yet it seemed so…unnatural. And she
regretted the absence of warmth when he removed her fingers from his mouth and
captured her face in his hands.

Her eyelids fluttered open to witness his gaze dancing
around her eyes.

“Are you sure you know what you’re asking, Wisteria?”

She nodded.

“You’re willing to give yourself to a
Barbarian
?”

“Vulcan, don’t. I’ve already explained. You were right. I
knew the man first, and he’s occupied my thoughts since the day we met.” As
long as he continued to play
man
through the process she wouldn’t have
any fears. It was hard to envision a man’s erect organ breaching her insides
without some form of pain. She’d have to trust he’d know what to do. More
importantly she’d have to trust he’d hold the Barbarian at bay.

He brought her face close and very softly pressed his lips
against her mouth. She sighed and relaxed despite her heartbeat racing out of
control. He cradled the back of her head and began laying her down, her
shoulders reaching the fur hide without so much as a jolt.

How could her flesh be so sensitized to his touch? She could
run her hands up and down her arms without feeling a thing yet tingles exploded
over every morsel of skin Vulcan brushed with his fingertips. Which now
happened to be her throat. Though she lay near the fire absorbing its warmth,
gooseflesh rose all over her body.

As his tongue slid against hers the wetness she’d grown
familiar with oozed between her thighs. A sure sign she’d melted in Vulcan’s
presence. How embarrassing. How could she prevent him from actually feeling it
when the time came?

She squeezed her legs together, hoping it’d dry so she
wouldn’t die of humiliation whenever his organ made physical contact with that
area.

With his tongue dancing circles he maneuvered his hand
behind her neck and untied her upper garment. After separating the straps he
broke the kiss, leaned on his hip, one leg bent, the other stretched alongside
hers, and he very slowly peeled the fabric away from her breasts. Her nipples
shriveled and hardened the moment they were completely exposed. She immediately
looked at his eyes but he was admiring her chest. Did he find her breasts too
small? Too large? They were perky and full but nowhere near the size of her
mom’s, which had grown enormous from feeding twelve babies.

She clamped her hands into fists, fighting the urge to cover
herself. Being partially naked in front of him would certainly take time
getting used to. She was too modest to even prance partially naked in front of
Ivy. This was way out of her comfort zone. So was
making love
for the
first time but she was willing to give it a try.

Vulcan squeezed her fist gently before he slid his hand
between her breasts in a languid caress, ending it near the base of her throat.
“Relax, Wisteria.”

She wished she could.

“You are so unfathomably beautiful.”

“I… I am?” she stuttered.

“Yes. Your eyes are as blue as the sky, your hair the shade
of darkness, your breasts round and perfect.” He lowered his lips to her neck.
“I’m a very fortunate man right now,” he nearly whispered, his voice a smooth melody.
After a nibble to her earlobe, he sat upright, locking their gazes.

The compliment empowered her somewhat and she laid her hands
on his chest. The muscles were firm and warm and she suddenly had the urge to
run her fingers all over his body. But to do it correctly would take much more
experience than she had and she refrained for fear of disappointing him.
Sluggishly she lowered her hands back to the ground and fisted the pelt.

“You can touch me,” he reassured her, lifting her hand and
placing it on his chest. “Like this,” he added, guiding her palm to his lower
abdomen then raising it slowly to his breastbone. “Or,” he continued, looking
deeply into her eyes, “you can,” again he lowered her hand to his stomach but
then he took it a step further and skimmed her fingers over his loincloth,
“touch my penis.”

She sucked in air and stiffened.

“It’s also called a cock.”

The instant her hand grazed his fully erect organ she nearly
jerked free from his grip. She’d never felt a
cock
other than when his
had poked into her tummy. Currently it displayed serious power beneath the fur.

He pressed her palm against it then lowered her hand to the
base where the hardness ended, then lower still to the soft area in between his
thighs. “My testicles. They’re very sensitive. You never want to strike a man
in this area unless defending yourself.”

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