Time to Heal Read online

  “Tell me,” she said, looking up at him. “Tell me what goes on during a woman’s er, questing time.”

  “You mean the time when a female first comes of age and feels desire?” Skahr asked. “Did Talli tell you about that?”

  Emmeline nodded. “She said a female of your Clan was free to, er, try any unmated male she wanted until she found one she wanted to settle down with.”

  “It’s true.” He nodded. “That is how females experience pleasure with a partner for the first time.”

  “And do they…what do they do? I mean, do they go to the men or the men go to them or how does it happen?” Emmeline didn’t know why she was asking him, but she wanted to know and the restless, needy feeling between her legs drove her to voice the forbidden question.

  “They usually meet in a love hut—a small structure built for the purpose of questing time meetings on the edges of the village,” Skahr told her. “The man goes there and waits for the woman—she will meet him if she chooses or she may change her mind and stay home or even go to another.”

  Emmeline frowned. “Won’t he get mad if she does that? Asks him to meet her and then changes her mind and goes to some other man instead?”

  Skahr shrugged. “He has no right to be mad—it is her body and her choice. She will do as she pleases. So he goes to the hut and lies down upon the bed and waits for her and hopes she will choose to come.”

  “He lies on the bed? Does he have to do that?” Emmeline asked curiously.

  Skahr nodded. “A female in her questing time may be new and inexperienced so how far she goes is her choice. He is obligated to lie down and let her do as little or as much as she pleases.”

  “Really?” Emmeline was intrigued. Outside of the strange practices at Mother Griffith’s, she had never heard of a people who let the woman take the lead sexually. But it didn’t sound like the men in Skahr’s Clan wanted to be whipped or beaten—they simply allowed the woman to decide for herself how much she wanted to do.

  It was a novel idea to Emmeline. In her experience, women were usually acted upon, not the actors themselves when it came to sexual relations. But Skahr was nodding his head.

  “Really,” he murmured. “Of course, if she asks him to take her, he will. But only with her permission and he must only go as far as she wishes him to. To do more is against the will of the Goddess”

  “That’s fascinating,” Emmeline murmured. “So she comes into the tent—er hut—and he’s just lying there on the bed?”

  “Naked,” Skahr said. “He is lying there naked,” he clarified, seeing her frown of confusion. “So that she can do what she likes and take her time about it.”

  “And is she…” Emmeline cleared her throat. “Is she naked too?”

  “She wears a special garment, woven of minna petals,” Skahr told her. “The petals are long and white and fragrant. They mold to her breasts and hips and shift against her skin, showing her breasts and nipples when she moves—some females even weave the petals so that they show their pussy as well.” His voice was a soft, deep growl. “There is nothing like lying naked on the bed of a loving hut and seeing a female come in wearing a petal gown.”

  “So…you’ve done this before? Participated in someone’s, uh, questing time before?” Emmeline was surprised at the zing of jealousy that went through her. Why should she care what the big Kindred had done in the past?

  And yet somehow she did.

  Skahr nodded carelessly.

  “Yes, in the past. But not for some years. When the Old One took me as his acolyte he counseled abstinence and so I let it be known that I would no longer visit the loving huts.”

  “But when you did, uh, visit them, what was it like? No, never mind—what I really want to know is, how was it for the women?”

  Skahr seemed to know what she wanted because he continued speaking.

  “A female comes to the loving hut, dressed in her petal gown, as I told you. The male is lying naked on the bed on his back. As she steps inside, she may free him by saying, ‘warrior, I release you,’ if she wishes. Then he is free to rise and go to her.”

  “But what if she doesn’t wish to free him?” Emmeline asked, a bit breathlessly.

  “Then he must lie there waiting for her,” Skahr said simply.

  “And then what?” Emmeline asked.

  “She will come to him,” Skahr murmured. “Sometimes she will touch him—stroke his body with her small, soft hands…” He surprised Emmeline by taking one of her hands and placing a hot kiss in the center of her palm. The warm brush of his lips against her flesh set her heart racing.

  “And then?” she prompted breathlessly.

  “She may touch him anywhere she likes—to familiarize herself with his body,” Skahr rumbled. “She may stroke his chest…his shaft…even cup his sac in her hands, as long as she is gentle. Sometimes she only touches him and leaves. But sometimes she may climb on the bed with him.”

  “Is he allowed to…to take charge then?” Emmeline asked. But Skahr shook his head.

  “Not unless she releases him,” he rumbled. “Unless she does that, he must lie still while she does as she likes to him. She may pull the petals of her gown aside and show him her breasts. She may even press her nipples to his mouth and let him suck them.”

  Emmeline felt a tingle of heat rush through her. She liked the idea of the woman being in charge—of the man, no matter how much bigger and more physically powerful he might be—restraining himself and allowing the woman to act on him in any way she chose.

  “And then?” she whispered, hearing the hitch in her own breath.

  “Well…” Skahr shifted a little closer to her so that their bodies were almost-but not quite-touching as they lay on their sides and faced each other in the firelight. “And then she might take his hand and put it between her legs and allow him to stroke her and see how wet her soft little pussy is getting for him.”

  “Oh…” Emmeline shifted again, squeezing her thighs together sharply. Between her legs the hot, swollen little button which felt so good when she touched it, seemed to have come to life and was demanding satisfaction.

  “Do you like the thought of that? Do you like to hear me say such things?” Skahr rumbled softly, stroking her cheek lightly with his fingertips. When she nodded hesitantly he asked, “Then why do you not give yourself pleasure as I tell you more?”

  “Oh, I…I couldn’t,” Emmeline exclaimed.

  “Why not?” Skahr asked reasonably. “I can smell your desire, delora—it perfumes the night air around us. Why do you not touch yourself and find pleasure?”

  “Well, because it’s wrong.”

  “Maybe in your world,” Skahr pointed out. “But we are not in your world now.”

  Emmeline bit her lip.

  “I…I guess you’re right,” she admitted in a low voice.

  “Go on,” Skahr murmured. “Give yourself pleasure, delora. Here—I will help you.”

  He took her hand in his and sucked her first two fingers into his mouth. Emmeline gave a little gasp at the warm, wet feel of his tongue sliding sensually over her flesh. At last he released her.

  “There.” His voice was a soft, hungry growl. “That should get your fingers wet enough to stroke your soft little pussy. Touch yourself.”

  Hardly believing she was doing it, Emmeline reached under the short leather skirt she wore and did as he said.

  With a trembling hand, she found the warm, wet slit between her legs and stroked one tentative fingertip over the forbidden flesh. There was a little bump there—so tender and sensitive it made her moan to just barely brush it. Emmeline had heard the other women at Mother Griffith’s call it a “clit” or a “button” but to her it just felt good. She thought of it as the most secret part of herself—the part she must never touch or reveal to another.

  And yet here she was, touching herself right in front of the big Kindred. It was outrageous and shameful, whispered a shocked little voice in her head! But somehow it didn’t