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*****
ETAN
Etan lay his cloak on the hay again and they settled on it, side by side. He was careful to lay on his back, one arm under his head, thinking that not looking at her would help him keep his hands to himself, but as soon as she got down, she lay her head on his shoulder and began to stroke his chest. His stomach clenched. He knew he had to stop this, or they would give in. But every time she touched him it was as if he came alive—not just with desire, but… something else.
Neither of them spoke. He let his hand trail up and down her back, while she played along his chest and stomach, like a child drawing lines—except he could feel her breath shallow and quicken. When she flattened her hand on his stomach, he froze. Which direction would she stroke? But she slid her hand slowly, slowly upwards.
"I know we mustn't do… everything," she said finally, quietly. "But are there some things that are… safe?" She held her breath and popped the top button of his shirt, then craned her neck to meet his eyes.
He realized his hands were shaking. "Perhaps," he croaked. "Only… I worry… when the heat begins, the fire burns higher. It may be difficult to stop."
She swallowed but didn't break eye-contact as she let her hand slide down to the next button and, with a tiny tug, she had that one undone as well. "I ache, Etan," she whispered. "I want to understand why."
His chest rose and fell under her hand as he considered the options. He ached, too. More than ached. He… hurt for her. But he knew… deep down he knew that if he were to take her it would only destroy what little chance they had for a peaceful union.
He swallowed and pushed up on his elbows, Ayleth following him, though she frowned.
Carefully, thoughtfully, he sat up and turned to face her, crossing his legs, his eyes never leaving her face. She mirrored him, doing the same, though her mouth tipped down.
"I think," he said, then swallowed again when she put a hand on his knee, "I think we must be careful, but you could let me… help you. With the ache," he said. His voice wanted to shake!
Her eyes brightened. "You can do that?"
He blew out a breath. "I hope so."
She smiled wide and excited. "That would be wonderful! I am very curious—" she reached for his buttons again and he caught her hands, looking at her warily. She stopped. "What is it?"
"I will need your help. Your promise."
"You have it."
He smiled. "No, I need your promise that you will not say yes to me. Helping you will… it will make me… ache as well. I am quite practiced at controlling the urges. But with you, Ayleth… I've never wanted a woman the way I want you. So, you must promise me… if I ask you… you must say no. Even if you don't want to. Give me your oath."
She took a deep breath, but nodded. "I promise you, Etan. Even if I want to, I'll say no."
He nodded, but knowing what he might do, where this might lead… his breath quickened. He swallowed again. "Lay down on your back," he said, his voice already rough with desire. Dear Lord, how was he going to do this without giving in?
She lay down, eyes locked on his, her hands resting on her stomach.
Resting on one hand, he leaned over her, scanned her from crown to toe, his breath even shallower. As he spoke he let his fingers start at her jaw, but drift slowly down her neck, to her collarbone.
"You should touch me wherever you please—whatever feels good to you," he rasped, running his fingers along the perfect, white ridge of her throat. His body was already tightening. "And if I do something that doesn't please you, tell me. And if you know… tell me what would please you instead."
She nodded, eyes wide. "I will."
Uncertain where else to start, he lowered himself to his elbow and kissed her, slowly, deeply, letting his lips trail along hers, his tongue finding hers softly.
She immediately put her hands to his face, but as he kissed her, she let them slide down, to explore his shoulders and chest. And Etan, with a silent prayer to the Creator for control, let his hand drift to her collarbones again, the v between them and then down, his fingers drawing the line down the center of her chest until they hit the top button of her blouse.
Without opening his eyes, he pulled away just enough to speak against her lips. "May I touch you, Ayleth?" he whispered.
"Yes, please!"
He unbuttoned the top button, then the next, his breath coming faster, his hand trembling now. But he held himself on a tight leash.
This was for her pleasure, not his.
Ayleth, too, was panting, sliding her hands under the collars of his shirt, and opening his buttons. Their arms tangled at times, and he chuckled when she cursed because for a moment she couldn't reach the next button.
Yet, as Etan slowly, slowly opened her shirt, she quickly, quickly worked on his, then put her hands flat on his ribs and, with a soft moan, slid them down and around his sides, arching slightly as she instinctively wanted his skin on her own.
But Etan was determined to draw this out, to dance the line between pleasure and pain. So, when he reached the last button of her blouse, as soon as he had even opened it, he let his hand drift further down, to the buttons of her breeches.
Even the pressure of his fingers twisting the buttons and popping them free seemed to entice her. She sucked in a breath as he freed the last one. "Should I take them off?" she asked curiously, pulling her hands from him as if to make good on the idea.
"No!" He caught one hand and she froze. "No," he said more softly, trying to smile because her eyes had gone wide. "This… this is enough. It's best for… for now," he said, and swallowed. He put her hand back to his chest and let his smile get wicked. "But feel free to touch me as much as you'd like."
She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. "I like," she whispered. "Very much."
Etan sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
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