VulcansWoman Read online

“Told you,” Wisteria grouched.

  Yeah, well…forget it. It was best to leave it at that.

  It took the creature only one attempt to right himself. He shook off the tumble then waddled past Vulcan’s feet and out the doorway. “No meat,” he forewarned Birmon as he followed him toward the fire pit. “Vegetation only. I don’t need you growing up feeding on my tribe.”

  He already knew it liked blood. Apparently Wisteria’s blood. Still, Birmon’s ability to heal her wounds mystified him. Had it eaten an abundance of yarrow leaves? All jesting aside, he caught up to the unique creature, lifted him in his arms and carried him into the forest.

  Unique he was. Vulcan hadn’t witnessed such unusual abilities since the chameleon species attacked.

  He glanced skyward then brought Birmon level to his eyes and examined him closely. Rounded snout. Webbed feet with talons. Vampire-bat wings. What an odd mixture of rodents. “What are you?”

  The wings along with his apparent taste for blood explained the vampire similarities but it failed to explain why he’d licked Wisteria’s blood rather than sinking his teeth into a vein.

  He set Birmon down in a section of tall sweet grass beside a raspberry bush. While he buried his nose in the tall weeds, Vulcan turned and relieved himself on a tree trunk.

  After he shook his cock then tucked it back inside the loincloth he squatted and assessed the creature. Birmon sniffed the bush, sticking his snout deep within the center, but quickly withdrew it, shaking his head. For the hell of it, Vulcan placed his cut directly beneath Birmon’s nostrils. Birmon sniffed and sniffed the dried blood but made no attempt to lick his skin clean.

  “I don’t blame him,” a male chuckled at Vulcan’s back. “I wouldn’t want to taste your flesh either.”

  Vulcan smirked and shook his head. Placing his hands on his knees, he pushed himself into a stance, spinning just enough to see his team member Bronto approaching from the direction of the fire. “It’s blood.”

  “Well then, I guess he doesn’t want to taste your body fluids.”

  “Don’t you have something better to do? Like sit at your post and guard the camp?” Vulcan ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Birmon, who was tilting his head back and forth, studying both men. “It appears he only likes Wisteria’s blood.”

  Bronto folded his hands behind his back and came to a stop at Vulcan’s side, looking him in the eye. “The woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excuse me for saying so, sir, but she’s much prettier than you are. I understand the animal’s preference.”

  “You can knock off the sir shit, Bronto. We’re not near the primates. Treat me as your equal when we’re alone.”

  “Yes sir.” Bronto laughed and lifted Vulcan’s arm, examining the cut. “So you took it for her, did you?”

  “Hell yeah. I wasn’t letting Grunt anywhere near her. Pure Barbarian blood rushes through that man’s veins. He could have seriously hurt her.” Vulcan grinned and again shook his head. “Think they noticed?”

  “No. I wondered how you were going to pull it off,” Bronto responded, lowering Vulcan’s hand to his side. “I tried watching closely, but your big ass was in the way.”

  “Then I guess it worked.” None of the men in their unit understood Vulcan as well as Bronto. They’d worked side by side for the past nine years in the Special Forces and built a relationship around trust. Who better to watch his back than the man he trusted with his life? Their bond stretched beyond the boundaries of coworker or comrade. They were more like brothers. During any given situation they could call each other’s next move and knew what reaction to expect. It was like having a wife.

  Tyran, the brainy scientist, kept to himself most of the time, studying objects then hiding in his hut to jot notes. Trice, the overachiever, should have been an actor. He played his tribal part well by displaying fear of his leader when in the presence of the true tribesmen. Then there was Zypher, the curious wanderer who jumped in with both feet, wanting to play the bad guy and go to battle.

  “What an unusual animal,” Bronto said as he squatted in front of Birmon. He held out his hand for the creature to smell. “What do you suppose it is?”

  Vulcan watched as Birmon sniffed Bronto’s fingers. “I’ve been trying to figure that out, but if he hurts my woman, his days are numbered.”

  “Ah, your woman.” Bronto chuckled as he tilted his head and glanced at Vulcan. “Lusting, are you?”

  “You already know it. I’ve been watching her long enough.”

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but,” he switched his gaze to Birmon, “she’s as unusual as this creature.”

  Vulcan raised a brow. “You’ll explain that remark.”

  “You said she swims on the serpent’s back, and she also summons it by singing.”

  “Yes.”

  “These animals are attached to her. Do you think she possesses secret abilities or some type of power?”

  “Absolutely. She has the ability to empower.” Vulcan smiled. Hell, he understood the creature’s reason for attachment. “If she did, I’m sure she would’ve made us disappear by now. She wasn’t too happy when we rode into her camp.” He turned on his heels and glanced toward his hut. “Speaking of the little woman, I’d better get back.” He gripped Bronto’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “And you need to retake your post. If you see any more mutants, kill them. Don’t summon me for permission first.”

  “What do you think is happening to them? All three so far appeared to be men from the flesh-eating tribe.”

  “Who knows.” Vulcan ran a hand through his hair. “Tyran’s been experimenting with samples of their blood and tissue. I hope he’ll have answers soon.”

  “Despite looking creepy, they seem harmless. They’re more like zombies than mutants,” Bronto said matter-of-factly. “If given a choice, I’d rather mess with them than run into that chameleon species again.”

  “You and me both, but don’t let your guard down. We haven’t let them survive long enough to witness their full capabilities.”

  “Don’t take this personally, Vulcan,” Bronto added with a grin. “But if you start wandering around looking like that, I’m decapitating you.”

  Vulcan laughed. “Likewise. Now go. Come on, Birmon. We’re going to bed.”

  Unfortunately when Vulcan stopped and removed a chunk of rabbit from the stew that still simmered over the fire, Birmon refused to eat it. Instead he’d lifted his snout in the air, waddled to the hut and lay down outside the doorway.

  What animal refused meat? Obviously Birmon wasn’t carnivorous as Vulcan had suspected. Dropping the hunk into his mouth, he strolled to his hut, pulled back the flap and waited until Birmon stepped inside. “Pen,” Vulcan said, pointing at the walls of fur.

  Birmon ran across the hut, flapping his wings, then hopped over the hides and belly-slammed the ground with a thud.

  Vulcan chuckled at the graceless creature. Hopefully he’d gain coordination within a day or two and quit falling on his face. Shaking his head, he gazed at Wisteria. She had unwound from the fur and was curled on her side, hands gathered in a prayer position beneath her cheek.

  It only took a quick glance at the indentation of her spine, the curve of her waist and arch of her hip to heat his testicles. Then the sight of her bare bottom shot his cock into a full erection.

  He’d taken her numerous times during the night but damn, he couldn’t quench his thirst for her. He wasn’t a man who let desire dictate his actions but hell, it led him directly to her backside where he lay down behind her.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged, pulling her close enough to snuggle his cock against her ass.

  She stirred. “Vulcan,” she said softly, followed by a faint, “Mmm.”

  “Who else, Wisteria?” he responded, nipping her ear.

  She sighed while placing her hand on his hip, drawing him yet closer, and wiggled her bottom.

  That ass of hers manipulated his tho
ughts and garnered serious attention, fast. He internally groaned as a fire ignited deep in his balls. If he didn’t somehow temper the prickling heat he’d rip off his loincloth and bury his damn demanding penis deep inside her pussy. Hell, he wanted to fuck her until she cried his name but he refrained. She needed sleep. He could wait. She wasn’t going anywhere. He’d just hold her until she woke, then he’d… Damn. He clenched his teeth as she again stroked his cock with those plump ass cheeks. Hell, his shaft was a weak thing. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if Wisteria waited to sleep until later after all.

  What was wrong with him? It wasn’t as if he’d denied himself a woman’s attention. None of the three government-contracted women partaking in this mission excited his blood like Wisteria. Two of those women, Jade and Pearl, took care of the day-to-day chores. Ruby on the other hand, having previously owned a brothel, was sent to release pent-up testosterone. Sure, he’d utilized her role. He would’ve been foolish not to. He hadn’t achieved marathon status with her but neither had she drawn his affections, which explained a lot. He’d been infatuated with Wisteria since the first time he’d seen her bathing in the lake. Nude. Rubbing her hands over her breasts. Intimately washing herself. Then came the day he’d actually seen her fondle herself between her thighs.

  Damn.

  His cock swelled. He inwardly groaned as his insides billowed in heat. How could he recall such memories without reacting? At the time he had no choice but to sit quietly and watch but she was now at his disposal and his body seemed locked in a permanent state of arousal. Hell, the supply hut better have an ample amount of condoms.

  He couldn’t take any more flashbacks or caresses from her soft, silky ass. His testicles clenched and his cock throbbed, the ache reaching his guts. “Wisteria,” he whispered directly above her ear, his breath fluttering her hair. “I want to make love to you again. Right,” he rested his lips against her lobe, “now.”

  Her dainty fingers squeezed his hip then she rolled onto her back. “What’s taking you so long?”

  So long? Unfortunately that wasn’t an adequate description of the performance he was about to give. His need was too great. With the pain so extensive, it felt as if his testicles were going to explode. Before he laid a single hand on her body he retrieved a condom from the box he’d placed on the floor beside them during the night. He’d grown tired of jumping up and down, so he’d used his brains and finally brought the box to their bed.

  He reached between her thighs and found the cloth still in place. He tossed it aside, replacing it with his hand. Her drowsy eyes gazed into his as he inserted a finger into her vagina. In actuality he gently inched it inside because she was still swollen. Her warm, cushiony walls molded around his finger and when he rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb her vaginal walls clamped down and her hips jutted. Ah, to feel the confinement around his cock would be, in the least, heaven and all its glory.

  A soft moan spilled from her lips and her neck slightly arched. While watching her lids narrow and lips part, he no longer wanted to mount her for a quick fuck. Her response intensified his need yet witnessing her arousal unfold gave him more pleasure than actually experiencing pleasure himself. What an evocative rush.

  Despite her juices saturating his finger and aiding in the insertion, her vagina remained cottony soft and tight. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, slipping his finger gently in as far as he could.

  “No,” she whimpered, drawing a quick breath. Her legs opened wider and she rocked her hips when he withdrew and reinserted his finger.

  At the onset of the third stroke she quivered and her vagina constricted, gripping his finger tighter. She grabbed his hand and held it in place while she increased the pace of her hips. She rocked and swayed and jarred her bottom until it completely lifted off the ground. As his finger slipped deeper her insides contracted.

  Her unbridled actions, constant moans and raspy breaths weakened his resistance. He couldn’t take any more. In the midst of her climax he tore off his loincloth, donned a condom and rolled in between her thighs. He draped her legs over his shoulders one at a time. After a nibble to the inside of her knee he leaned forward, which raised her ass off the floor. He needed a position for deep penetration because mercy on his soul, he wanted to plunge into her belly.

  The instant his cock head breached her opening she shoved her hips upward, forcing him inside her vagina in one stroke. She shuddered and her belly jerked. His heartbeat pounded in his chest and ticked in his jugular. For the first time in his life he felt threatened by premature ejaculation. But he couldn’t help it. Because God as his witness, with Wisteria’s swollen insides groping and squeezing, his cock felt like a spring ready to unwind.

  He silenced her soft cries with his lips, which brought her knees to her breasts, and he pumped into her. Once. Twice. Three times.

  He clamped his eyes shut, praying for endurance, and tried to hang on for at least one more stroke but he couldn’t counteract the rush pumping through his veins. It washed through him with such force he slammed into her a final time, growling so loudly when he came he didn’t doubt he woke the entire tribe.

  Sucking air into his lungs, he removed her legs from his shoulders then propped himself on his elbows above her body, snuggling his hipbones between her thighs. With a deep sigh intended to knock his heart into a steady beat, he rested his forehead against hers. “That, sweetheart, is what happens to men who lose control.”

  Chapter Nine

  Wisteria dressed in her garments then ambled to the waterhole, knelt beside the ledge and splattered her face to fully arouse herself from sleep. She’d slept all day, wasting hours of valuable sunshine. When she’d walked beneath the ventilation hole she noticed the sky had turned dark. Lying asleep in Vulcan’s arms had comforted her to a comatose state and she’d slept better than she ever had.

  How long ago had he whispered in her ear he was leaving to provide food for the children? What children? She hadn’t seen any kids nor heard any laughter. The Barbarians were the greatest breeders and had the largest tribe in the land yet she hadn’t seen large numbers of people or heard a peep from their offspring. Was that another lie she’d been led to believe? Had all of the men worn condoms to prevent the women from bearing babies?

  One day she wanted lots of children and she’d raise them with kindness, and love them equally. She’d disperse her affections amongst them all, even if she gave birth to twelve, like her momma. She’d made a private vow to herself to never display favoritism. It hurt too deeply, leaving emotional scars.

  Unfortunately if Vulcan chose to leave, it would ruin Wisteria’s hopes of conceiving in the future with another man. No one else would want her if they discovered she’d mated with a Barbarian.

  She patted her skin dry and glanced at Birmon, still asleep in the pen. He was becoming more and more like her child. She surely hoped he wasn’t the only one she’d have. She smiled at him and then she walked outside. A few men fully dressed in furs stood guard by the forest line, holding weapons, and Jade sat near the fire, working on a cloth big enough to cover her lap.

  Was she still upset with Wisteria? She hadn’t departed on a very positive note last night. She’d even cheered when she’d thought Wisteria had been cut. What would she say if she discovered the truth? What would happen to Vulcan, having lied?

  Wisteria returned to the hut and wrapped a hide around her upper body to conceal her uninjured arm then she stepped back outside. Why worry? If anyone questioned her she’d tell them Birmon healed the blade wound. It wasn’t as if no one saw him mend the gashes on her tummy and thighs.

  She squeezed the fur and approached Jade, clearing her throat so as not to startle her.

  Jade looked up and surprisingly smiled. “Good evening, beauty queen. You finally woke. I was beginning to wonder if you were all right.”

  The woman with the sweet demeanor who’d treated Wisteria’s wounds with yarrow had resurfaced. If Wisteria were to reside with the tribe… Who said anything ab
out that?

  Technically Vulcan had. He’d made her his possession. Funny, rather than it appalling or scaring her, she encountered a sudden sense of comfort and belonging. “I’m fine,” she replied, gazing at Jade’s project, where strips of light- and dark-colored leather were weaved tightly together. “Why do you call me that?”

  Jade lowered the craft to her lap, gazed into Wisteria’s eyes and smiled again. “It’s just a nickname. When I like someone, I usually assign them a name of endearment. It fits you.”

  “What’s a queen?”

  “A female ruler of sorts. I see it this way.” Jade paused and winked. “Vulcan rules the Barbarians, and one day I suspect you’ll rule his heart.”

  Oh. She didn’t know how to take that comment but rather than ramble on about it she pointed at Jade’s weaving. “That’s beautiful. What is it?”

  “I’m making a blanket.”

  Wisteria sat down beside a pile of unused strips, draping her legs to the side, and skimmed her finger across the top piece. It was softer than any leather she’d ever felt.

  “Are you hungry, Wisteria? Vulcan said you hadn’t eaten. Can I pour you a bowl of stew?”

  “Stew?”

  “It’s vegetables mixed with rabbit meat. It’s very good. Pearl is an amazing cook.”

  “My mom makes something similar, but we call it potato-slosh.”

  Jade set the project aside. When she stood and walked to the cooking pot, Wisteria noticed her legs were free of hair and her skin shimmered in the firelight. Wisteria glanced at her own thighs. Although the light-colored hairs were barely visible, her skin appeared dry and dull and she suddenly felt ungroomed and scraggly. Like a female version of Sledge.

  “Here you go.” Jade handed her a small dark bowl and sat back down.

  An appetite and thoughts of Sledge were not compatible in the least but Wisteria took a small bite in appreciation of Jade’s kindness. She’d not want to insult the woman. Not now. Not before Wisteria knew her place within their people. She’d hate to make enemies before actually being accepted into their tribe.