The Solider and the Priestess Ch. 02

Zara turned to look at him over her shoulder, a hint of her shyness back in her eyes. She bit her lower lip. "Must you look?"

He barked a one-syllable laugh. "I couldn't look away if I tried."

She studied him for a second, making him laugh again as her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I don't think you're trying," she admitted at last. He liked the good humor in her face, the slight twist of her lips.

He shrugged. "You're right." He was unbuttoning his shirt while he spoke, gratified when her eyes followed his hands down the midline of his chest, his heavily muscled stomach. He stepped out of his trousers, dressed only in his undergarments. He knew they left little to the imagination.

"Who's looking now, Priestess?" he teased gently, making her blush crimson again.

"I didn't mean to," she protested, her voice muffled by the hands that were once again covering her pretty face.

He laughed. "You can look all you want, little one."

Zara shook her head furiously.

"Am I so hard to look at? You told me I was beautiful just last night."

"You're teasing me."

"Relentlessly. Yes. Shall I stop?"

Zara giggled, and the sound was so sweet it cut right to Caspian's heart. "I don't know," she said at last. "I'd like to know what the alternative is."

"I can show you, if you like." He crossed the feet between them. Her hair was still loose, falling past her waist and obscuring her pert breasts, her smooth stomach. He brushed it behind her shoulders, baring more of her skin. He didn't think he'd ever tire of that sight, of drinking in the vision that had someone stumbled into his life. She let his hands stay on her shoulders, degrees warmer than both her skin and the cool air around them.

He leaned in until their lips were only a hair's width apart. He could feel the sweet warmth of her rose-scented breath. He wanted to kiss her, but instead he put his hands on the small of her back and pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. He knew it was the most vulnerable she'd been with him, that she must be so aware of her nakedness pressed against him. So much of her body was against his bare skin. Only his flannel bottoms separated them.

Caspian ran his hands up her smooth, delicately muscled back, feeling her sharp shoulder blades press into his palms. She sighed softly, a gentle, relaxed sound. He kissed her forehead, waiting for her to tense up, to pull back. Instead, Zara lifted her chin, her face open and clear in the bright light.

Her breasts were still pressed against his chest, giving her a womanly cleavage she didn't usually have. She was like a wood nymph, a fairy, something that had grown up in this beautiful clearing, untouched by any human hands. There was something about that thought that made him want her more. Every new touch he gave her was something she had never felt before. He thought of her soft moan when he'd pressed his thigh between her legs. He could make her feel so much better than that, so much more, if she'd only let him. Something in her eyes told him that she would.

He bent a little lower and pressed a soft kiss on the tip of her half-teardrop nose. Zara's hands had been still at her sides. Now, she moved them to rest against the front of his bare chest. He knew what that meant. He knew he was finally, finally going to see what those strawberry lips tasted like. But just as he moved to close that last inch between their mouths, he felt her shiver. And he somehow found himself pulling her into a warming embrace instead.

"If you want to bathe, we'd better hurry," he told her. "It'll be colder when we're wet."

Holding his forearm for support, Zara tiptoed to the edge of the pool and dipped one slender foot into the water. She yelped at the burst of cold and jumped back, nearly pulling Caspian down to the ground.

"We're going to have to jump in," he warned her, kicking off his last piece of clothing. "No edging in."

Zara was looking apprehensive now that the icy water was so imminently present. "I don't know if I can!"

"Let me take you. You trust me?" When she nodded—averting her eyes from his nakedness again—, he scooped her up in one swift motion—one of his arms under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and jumped into the still, deep water.

The water was so cold it stole every breath from their lungs. For a moment, their limbs were frozen, leaving them suspended like flies in amber. Then, deep in each of their chests, a tiny spark of heat ignited. It coursed through their veins like alcohol, like poison, like life, warming every muscle and turning every drop of blood to thick, hot, boiling gold.

Zara shrieked and then laughed, her head breaking the surface of the water like a mermaid. She had never felt so real, so alive. Her existence with the other priestesses had been so precious to her that she had never even wondered about what she was missing, had never considered the odd, exhilarating joy of jumping naked into a freezing pond with a big, dripping, laughing man beside her. Caspian's face, washed clean of dirt and gore, looked suddenly younger, less menacing. His face was scruffy and his eyes were burning like silver candles with the adrenaline of that freezing water.

"Kick your legs!" Caspian ordered. "Keep warm!"

Zara kicked and paddled her arms, shivering and glowing. The water was so clear that even when she was in motion Caspian could catch glimpses of her pretty legs, her little belly button, her hands like white butterflies beneath the surface. Fragmented glimpses, like a shattered mirror, but still enough to catch his imagination, to make him wonder if her skin would feel warm or cold beneath those frigid waves.

He ran his hands over his body, watching Zara do the same. It felt so good to be free of the days-old sweat, the dried blood, the heavy clumps of mud that had brushed itself into their skin over the past two days.

Zara's hair was glowing like a stripe of fire in the water, her skin so pale and luminous that it caught every broken ray of sunlight. With her hair wet, slicked back from her face, she looked younger and gentler and lovelier than ever. Drops of water were beaded on her long lashes like diamonds and when she blinked, they twinkled as they rolled down her glistening cheeks.

"I'm f-f-freezing!" Zara chattered, her legs kicking, her arms crossed over her chest. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him, rubbing her slick upper arms to warm her. He had found a place that was shallow enough for him to stand, but Zara was so much smaller that she still had to tread water. He grabbed her around the waist and squeezed, making her shriek. Somehow her arms were wrapped around his neck, somehow her legs were wrapping around his waist, somehow they were skin-on-skin again under the blanket of the water and somehow Zara didn't seem to mind. Her body was like a little furnace, hot and supple and slippery under his hands. His cock was pressed between her legs, against her lower belly, and the thought that just one swift movement could leave him buried inside her was enough to make him hard and hot as steel against her skin. The iciness of the water didn't deter him; he doubted anything could.

Zara shifted her weight within his embrace and he felt every inch of his aching rod slide against the inside of her hip and he groaned deep in his throat at how deeply, deliciously good that contact felt.

Under the guise of helping her get clean, he rubbed her sides and the outsides of her thighs, the tight curve of her bottom. He ran his hands up her chest and felt the little handfuls of her breasts, the hard press of her little nipples. She sighed at the touch, and again he felt that deep down, she wanted him too.

He moved his hands back to her waist, repositioned her so that the head of his cock was pressed between her thighs right against her tight entrance. He held himself back, pushing only hard enough to feel the tiniest hint of resistance, a glimmer of how sweetly tight she'd be when he finally got to take her. "Here," he growled in her ear. "I want to make you feel good... here."

Maybe it was the heat of his body against the coldness of the pond, or maybe it was Zara trying to keep her promise, but she didn't pull away. She nuzzled her head into the curve of his neck and raked her nails lightly down his back.

He let her move her weight away from his cock, relieved when she didn't seem to mind it pressing up against her hipbone. He let his hand brush—just once!—over the silky wisp of red-gold hair between her legs, just close enough to feel the liquid heat gushing out of her.

"Mmm," Zara breathed into his neck.

"Mmm," he agreed. He didn't want to get carried away, but he couldn't keep himself from kissing the top of her soft, cold shoulder. He let his teeth graze her skin and relished in the delight of her shiver, the green glow of her gaze.

He scooped her up in his arms to carry her out of the water, not wanting her to hurt her bare feet on the sharp rocks. He wrapped her in his shirt to dry her off, adding the image of her wet body wrapped in his clothes to the stockpile of images he was beginning to carry with him.

They dressed quickly, and Zara braided her wet hair into a crown on her head to keep its icy dampness from freezing her. The sun was still shining bravely, and though they were chilly, it wasn't dangerously cold.

As the afternoon wore on and the shafts of light began to grow long and golden, the pair pressed on through the forest, closer and closer to the Zanthar town of Iruvale, where shelter was waiting for them. The nearer they drew to the city, the more anxious Caspian grew, worried about what they'd find when they arrived. Every time he looked down at his priestess, so lovely in her green cloak, he couldn't help but wish that they could stay in that clearing in the woods forever, away from the many things that might tear her away from him.