Tereus’s passion is fierce, painful. He’s always enjoyed sex, but for him it’s a casual pleasure, well below drinking and battle and smoking, and good food, for that matter. Now that he is deprived of other vices, his constant, punishing rounds of craving and satisfaction center on Valeria and the need to possess her.
Valeria is gripped by uncharacteristic recklessness. She feels indifferent to everything she’s nurtured — her husband and children, their placid existence. She thinks that finally — finally! — she can grasp at something she wants badly.
The next night he slips her a note before dinner asking her to meet him in the hayloft again. The meal is late, rushed. Everyone is exhausted, so tired that they could almost drift into trance with food in their mouths, sitting at the table. Only Valeria and Tereus are restless, electric.
The older children retire immediately, and poor little Claudius falls asleep in her lap at dinner, his blond head nestled against her breast. She carries him upstairs. He’s tall but slight for his three years. He settles easily into his crib. She leaves Lucius in the library, sitting by the fire. She slips away without permitting herself to think.
He leaves the ladder down for her. She sees him looking down, smiling and dropping little bits of hay on her as she ascends. She scrambles up and into his arms, and they kiss desperately.
He calls her his darling, his sweet, his dove. They rush to get out of their clothing. He brought up a blanket and pillows to make a little bed, so that they won’t end up itching and covered in welts.
She reclines on her back on the blanket, and he kneels up between her spread thighs. “God, I want you,” he says, and kisses her temples and ears and neck, cups her breasts together and buries his face in her cleavage, sucks her nipples roughly. She realizes that she adores that. He bites and slaps and sucks at them with the reckless greed of an infant.
She grinds herself against his chest. He reaches down, between her thighs, feels how slick she is, says, “Oh, fuck,” and dives down to suck and nibble her and drive his fingers and tongue into her.
He feels she’s close to climax, so he sits back up, spreads her legs further. She looks up and sees him kneeling up between her thighs, his expression focused, determined, longing. He’s holding his cock, guiding himself into her. Valeria appreciates Tereus’s beauty like she never has — the power of his shoulders and chest, his radiant profile and dark eyes. His blond hair falls across his face, clings to his neck and shoulders.
And his cock —
He drives into her, then holds deep within her. Her legs are spread wide, he’s gripping her buttocks, pulling her hard against him. They’re both speechless, panting, grunting like animals.
He withdraws slowly, so that the tip of his cock barely parts her lips. She’s begging wordlessly, straining up towards him. He leans down to kiss her. She tastes herself on his lips. There’s sweat running down his face, and she tastes that, and feels it hot and cold in turn.
They’re poised there, agonized with desire, trembling, and he whispers, “Darling, Valeria, say that you love me.” He looks at her with longing so intense that it frightens her for an instant.
“I love you,” she says. “I love you so much — please —”
He slams his cock home so hard that she gives a start of mingled shock, pain and pleasure. He grips her harder — she’ll be bruised the next morning — forces himself further in.
He fucks her savagely. It’s as if the initial shock of dull pain broke something loose in her, because she strains up towards him, opens herself entirely. He forces her to come again and again, caressing her as he holds himself deep inside her, his expression serious, awed, wondering. Finally he comes with wrenching force, her legs wrapped tight around him, his face buried in her crimson hair.
There’s brief stretch of oblivion. He withdraws, curls up on his side, draws her to his chest. “I love you, Valeria,” he says. He strokes her hair and face.
“I love you, too,” she says, and clings to him.
No good can come of their passion, but they’re giddy and delighted, and feel cleansed in each others’ desire.
He’s shaking with exhaustion. He laughs unsteadily. “We should go back.” He kisses her repeatedly, whispering, “I adore you.” They dress, fumbling from spent passion.
They cross the farmyard. He holds her hand, since she seems unsteady. The house is dark and silent. They pause in the garden. Clouds obscure the moon and stars, and hold the heat in.
“Are you OK?” he asks.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Of course. I’m delighted.”
When Valeria falls into bed, it’s tumbled but empty. She’s too tired to wonder where Lucius has gone. She falls into trance like a body falling overboard into high waves.
For a linked table of contents, listing all of the Shelawn family adventures, click here.