Page 13 of The Fire Apprentice (Sylvania #5)

J ane leaned back against Rowan’s chest. The water in the pool wasn’t as hot as it had been. Or maybe she was used to it.

“I’ve never done that before,” she whispered. “It felt good to you?”

“Very good,” he murmured.

“The way you pressed against me—it makes me think of a sausage between the halves of a bun.”

Rowan snorted. “A sausage? That’s the ground up animal bits in a casing, right?”

“But the shape—”

“I know the shape,” he said, kissing her neck. His kiss turned into a nibble. “The fairies call that position an eggplant sandwich.”

Now Jane snorted. Eggplant sandwich? Like anyone ate a whole eggplant that way. But the fairies had a name for the position... as if using it were common enough to be named. She’d never have thought a man would be satisfied by merely squeezing his erection between her butt cheeks like that. Of course, her main experience was with a man whose sole purpose had been to get her pregnant, so he had focused on the usual form of tumbling.

It was the usual form, wasn’t it? Maryanne loved gabbing about all the ways she and Wells went at it, and while they seemed to like variety (beds, floors, kitchen tables, bent over an anvil in the tin smithy), their tumbling always seemed to involve Wells eventually sticking his penis into Maryanne’s vagina. And Maryanne liked it that way, at least according to her gabbing. But did all women?

Another thing about Rowan—who’d stopped kissing her neck and seemed content leaning against her while holding her in his arms and watching the moon—was he let her be in charge sometimes. And he seemed to like her being in charge.

Larch had always called her over to him, like he was the skies’ gift to womankind. And... well, she felt embarrassed thinking it, but with him tumbling was kind of the same every time. But again, maybe that was because he’d been trying to get her pregnant, not offer her an inspiring sex life. And she’d been so besotted with him—she’d been gratified simply having his attention and everything had felt wonderful all the time. Even her usual pain had been muted. Dratted fairy love spell. Only afterward could she look back and see Larch hadn’t been very original in his techniques.

No eggplant sandwiches with Larch.

Jane relaxed and rested her head back against Rowan. The moon had faded to a silvery white as it crept up the sky. Rowan’s chin brushed her cheek.

“Are your fingers prune-y?” she asked.

“Are they what?”

“Prune-y. Wrinkly like prunes.”

“What are prunes?”

“What are prunes ?” She twisted to stare at him. “Dried plums. Don’t fairies eat prunes?”

“Of course we do. We call them dried plums.”

“‘We call them dried plums,’” Jane mimicked him, but she smiled and kissed his cheek to show she was teasing.

“What do you call those dried cherries you put on the oats?” he asked.

“Dried cherries.”

“I asked, What do you call them?”

“Dried cherries are just dried cherries.”

Rowan turned to gape at her. “Well that makes sense.”

Jane couldn’t stop smiling.

“What other lucky dried fruits get special human names?”

“Um, dried grapes are raisins. Figs stay figs though. Same with apples and apricots. I think it’s only dried plums and grapes.”

“Huh.”

It was kind of strange when she thought about it.

He shifted her in his arms to examine his fingertips. “They look prune-y.”

“I think all of me is prune-y.”

He bent to whisper in her ear. “Want me to check?”

Jane laughed and swatted him away as she turned from the view of the moon.

“Do you want to dry off?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

He stepped back and followed as she waded around the curve to her side of the pool. Her clothes spread on the rock were dry, even her trousers.

“You don’t have towels in that pack of yours, do you?” Jane asked. The night air had been cold when she’d lifted her arm from the water to check her laundry.

“No, just the blanket.”

“We need to keep that dry so we can sleep under it.”

“Wait a moment.” Rowan climbed up the steps—she forced herself not to ogle his backside as it emerged in the moonlight—and vaulted himself up on the rock beside her clothes. “The rock is warm,” he said. “Come lie up here.”

She climbed up the tall steps and out of the water. The walls around the entrance to the pool radiated a faint heat as she gathered up her clothing to create more space for them to lie down. Rowan pulled her up beside him, and she crawled toward the center. The rocks grew hotter beneath her palms. Sunshine had heated the rock in the center of her cave, so it made sense the center of the dome would be hottest.

Jane lowered her belly down and stretched out on the warm rocks, hiding beneath the cold night air. Rowan lay beside her. He turned his face toward her. The pale light lit his cheekbone and the tip of his nose.

“Was it rude?” she asked.

“What?”

“Tumbling in Sunshine’s pool.”

“Rude how?”

“Her rainwater was all clean before we went in. And now it’s... not.”

“Bathing would have dirtied it.”

“I know. But she invited us to bathe.”

“Maybe she invited us to tumble and I didn’t tell you.”

Jane lifted her head. “Did she?”

Rowan grinned.

“She did not.”

“How do you think dragons make their sex mushrooms?”

“Their what ?”

“Like the fire mushrooms but with an extra ingredient.”

“Rowan!”

He kept smiling at her. He’d lain on his front too and he rested his head on his folded arms. His long hair fell away from his eyes. “She’ll blast enough heat from below to evaporate the water after we’re gone, and the pores in the rock will fill with fire mushroom spores. But our tumbling will fertilize them and turn them into extra nutritious sex mushrooms.”

“That can’t be true.”

Rowan’s grin widened. “It’s not.”

“I thought fairies couldn’t lie.”

“I don’t think it counts if it’s a lie that stupid.”

Jane’s front was getting toasty. She hitched herself up and onto her back. Her front protested but it was dry and the cold was less biting than it had been. The ends of her hair had dried against the rock, but her head was damp. She lay back, turning her face again to Rowan.

“Do you think she’s had other visitors?”

“Sunshine? Not likely. Why?”

“No reason.”

“Are you wondering how many couples have tumbled here before us?”

Jane’s face heated.

“She actually will empty the pool before the next rainfall. That’s how they keep the rainwater fresh for drinking. Axe told me that once. One blast of dragon fire can clean anything.”

Jane watched him. If he’d slipped up in mentioning his time with Axe, he didn’t show it. But she didn’t want to risk making the moment awkward by trying to find out more.

They were silent for a few beats.

“I don’t know what to do about Elle,” Jane said at last. “I don’t want to take her away from Sunshine.”

“Then don’t.”

“You think it would be all right to let her live up here for several moons?”

“I do. I know this idea is new to you. But working with dragons is something the fairies have done for ages.”

His assurances calmed her. This must be what it would be like having a partner in life, a partner who cared about her welfare, too. Getting an opinion she could trust, making decisions together.

“I don’t think I could leave though,” she said.

“We don’t have to leave.”

“You would stay with me?”

“I can hardly return to Woods Rest without you. Maryanne would have my head.”

“But what would you do up here?”

“You mean aside from getting naked with you every night?”

Jane’s heart thumped. No bitter tea. A whole summer of his touches without having to worry about pain. “But what if it doesn’t rain?”

He convulsed with a laugh into the crook of his elbow, hiding his face.

“Don’t laugh. This pool could get dangerous.”

Rowan looked up smiling with his eyes shining. When he smiled it was like the sun after a quarter-moon of rainstorms. “I would lay you down on the grass under the apple trees and shake the branches to watch the petals drift onto your bare skin before making love to you.”

Jane’s lips parted but she had no words. That was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.

“Although with the way you squirm,” he continued, “we’d kill the grass in no time.”

She shoved at his arm.

“But there’s always the hammocks. We could hang one out among the trees.”

Jane frowned. “A hammock doesn’t seem to allow much variety.”

Rowan smirked. “It does if you know how to hang it.”

“What do you mean?”

Rowan rested his chin on his arms again. “Fairy hammocks have loops in a few places that allow you to hang them a few ways—for sleeping, for sitting. For tumbling in various positions.” He didn’t even smirk as he said it, as if such a thing were commonplace.

“The fairies make sex hammocks.”

“You sound unenthused. We don’t have to use it.”

“No, I would try it.” Jane stared overhead at the stars. Her brow furrowed. The fairies invented things. They thought of things—like a hammock you could hang to make sex better. They seemed to always know more about everything than humans did. Maybe a fairy healer could help her. Maybe they would know what caused the tightness in her body that made intercourse painful. “The fairies know a lot about sex,” she said at last.

“We got bored all those winters underground. We had a lot of new inventions. Silver lining, I suppose.”

She turned her face back to him. “New sex inventions?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

“Like what?”

“Oh I don’t know.”

“You do too. You’re such a tease.”

“One of the inventors made something all the fairies were talking about. Everyone wanted one. Especially everyone with a vagina.”

“Rowan! Tell me.”

He hitched himself closer across the rock, lowering his voice. “Do you know what a dildo is?”

“Of course! Humans have... those.”

“Why don’t you want to say the word?”

“I don’t not want to.”

He lifted his eyebrows.

“Fine. Dildo.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. “My brothers used to make jokes, that’s all.”

“Did you ever have one?”

“No.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I know. I just... never had one.”

He bit his lip a moment before continuing. “One of the fairy inventors made a vibrating dildo.”

“A vibrating...?” Words failed her. It vibrated? How?

“She calls it a wand. Apparently the vibrations feel quite nice.”

Jane frowned. Vibrations—like when a cart rumbled down the lane and the house shook? “I don’t understand. It just shakes around down there?”

“Not exactly. She made it with hummingbird wings. And magic.”

“ Hummingbird wings? How could you hurt a—”

“No one hurt a hummingbird.” He shook his head, smiling.

“Then how did she invent it?”

“Maple—she’s the inventor—Maple said she had the bird perch on the tip and flutter a bit and she captured the motion.”

Jane pieced together the information. Hummingbirds were dizzyingly fast. Way faster than her hand.

“For a while she had a backlog of orders,” Rowan went on. “She got permission to visit the gardens, and she’d sit by the flowers waiting for hummingbirds to come by so she could ask for help. She traded them honey water in exchange for their time. They seemed happy with the trade.”

Was he kidding her again? He didn’t have a gleam in his eye—he wasn’t even watching her. As if vibrating fairy dildos were real. They were going to have to discuss this again when they got home.

Rowan traced a finger over the rocks. “Now that we’re talking about sex,” he said, and his eyes darted up to her and away, “I don’t think I can resist touching you when you’re lying beside me like that.”

Jane folded her arms behind her head and arched her back. “Like what?”

Rowan groaned.

“Go on then,” she said, biting her lip to hide her grin.

He leaned up on one elbow and reached out to touch her chin lightly with his fingertips, followed by her lips. Heat off his hand warmed the base of her neck a moment before he touched her there. He trailed his fingers down her center in a line, feather soft, over the gentle slope of her belly and... back up.

Now Jane groaned.

“Shall I stop?”

“No! Just don’t be such a tease.”

His fingers were on the way back down again. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Close your eyes.”

She studied Rowan’s face one more moment before closing them. His fingers reached her belly. They stopped.

His body scuffed across the rock as he moved closer. He brushed aside her hair before cradling her head, nudging her own arms aside. She wanted to reach for him but she didn’t want to interrupt whatever he was about to do so she closed her hands and left them beside her head. His fingers splayed across her belly before smoothing back up to rest his warm palm between her breasts, and he dropped kisses on her eyelashes and across her cheeks.

“You look beautiful in moonlight,” he whispered.

His hair brushed her face as he nuzzled to kiss her neck and she risked a peek. Her body was silvery in the darkness, and the view of his tanned fingers pressed between the swell of her breasts made her crave his touch. He traced his lips over her skin, along her collarbone and kissing up her neck. She closed her eyes again.

His lips pressed against hers as he danced his fingers across her breast. She arched up seeking more of his hand and his lips, with a kiss back just as he pulled his face away. He came in again, staying this time with a gentle force while his fingers landed and stayed on her breast, circling slowly and slowly pushing harder. It was too lovely, the never-ending kissing and the torment of her breast, but when she tried to move toward him the hand cradling her head fisted in her hair to stop her.

“I could touch you,” she whined against his lips.

He breathed into her ear. “Wait your turn. I can only focus on one thing at a time.”

“You’re—”

He cut her off with another kiss and she gave herself up to his attentions. For a while, he kept kissing her lips, his hand resting on her breast. Her body responded, wanting him more and more the longer he denied her any other touches. Was it a game to drive her mad? Rowan didn’t seem to play games. But he might like to tease her.

“Why are you only kissing me?” she murmured between kisses.

“I like kissing you. Do you want me to stop?”

“I like it too.” Her mind was a haze of desires, half of them pushing her to climb on top of him and the other half too lazy to move.

“Do you want more?”

“Mmm.”

He bit her neck. Even with it done gently, her eyes flew open and her body arched. The stars wheeled above her. His fingers landed between her legs. She arched again, trying to get them closer. His body had the top of her torso pinned. He ran his fingers lightly over her, then harder, stroking between her legs until she settled back.

“You like this?” His strokes turned to slow swirls. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like that.”

His skin pressed against her side was hot from lying on the rock. Already she wanted his fingers to go harder. But it wouldn’t take long for her to finish so she enjoyed his soft stroking a little longer. His kisses slowed until he rested his cheek against her collarbone. As if he were focused on the hand kneading between her legs.

Her body’s yearning grew until she reached for his hand in her hair. She wrapped her fingers over his, clutched his hand, and arched up against his pressure between her legs. He responded with a faster cadence. Not harder, just faster, like the hummingbird wings he’d teased her about but skies it worked. The quivery motion triggered her so fast she barely realized it was coming before her desire peaked and spilled out in a spasm of moans and Rowans and futile attempts to press against his hand, which kept vibrating on her and keeping her peak going until she couldn’t take any more and clamped his hand against her.

He lay across her as she went still, catching her breath. She kept hold of his hand between her legs, not ready to let go of the solid pressure against her. He was moving against her hip, nudging and snuggling closer. Skies the rock beneath her bottom was hot, and she was sooo sleepy. Her body had begun to melt limply onto the rock. When he quieted, she gave him back his hand. His head was below hers and she stroked his hair. She couldn’t fall asleep until he’d had another turn.

“My turn to touch you?” she asked in a tiny voice.

Rowan moved but kept his head down as he rolled off her and sat up. “Um. I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait.” Was he actually blushing? She couldn’t tell in the moonlight. “Just, uh, watch out right there on the rock when you move.”

Jane blinked up at him. So that’s what that snuggling had been about—Rowan had been humping her side. She grinned. “Next time you go first,” she said, reaching out to touch his hip.

He kept his face averted but a bashful smile graced his lips.

“I’m done drying off I think,” she said with a yawn.

“Get dressed and we can go to sleep.”

Jane slowly sat up and pulled on her underclothes as Rowan climbed over the rock to where he’d left his things. In the end, she put on all her clothes because the night would only get colder as it grew later. When she descended the steps around to the courtyard, Rowan was waiting. Sunshine’s head rested on the ground with her small forepaws curled beside it. Her eyes were closed but Jane would bet she knew they were there—and probably everything else about their evening. Elle was out of sight, her presence given away only by Sunshine’s slightly unfolded left wing.

The dragon and the cave radiated heat but the lone hammock Rowan had hung was on the far side of the courtyard. The temperature dropped as they padded over to it, and the faint smells of smoke and singed mushroom faded into cold mountain air.

Did he want to share again? They needed to share the blanket for warmth. And she wanted to share because she liked snuggling against him. And he seemed to like her, too, not only the kissing and touching but talking with her and teasing her. And after what he’d said about making love in the grass and the hammocks and whatnot...

Maybe she was wrong. She was usually wrong about these things. Maybe their activities in the pool were a one-time tryst. But she didn’t think she was wrong this time.

“Do you want to share again?” Jane asked.

And Rowan nodded.

He spread his blanket in the hammock as he had done before. This time he’d secured the hammock on a rock and branch instead of using the slug glue, so it wouldn’t fall in the morning. She climbed in after him and lay back. His arm went around her immediately, and when she shifted, trying to maneuver her way onto him, he shifted too and pulled her all the way on so her head rested on his chest. He pulled the blanket over her and stroked her back beneath it, and he was warm and lovely and even her feet were warm, snugged against his calves.

Falling asleep was much easier after three—no, four—orgasms. She woke once when Rowan turned onto his side. He muttered an apology and pulled her against his broad chest. And much later, Sunshine moved outside. Her wings beat the air once, twice. Rowan shifted again.

“Stay here,” he said, and slipped out of her arms, wrapping the warm blanket around her. She drifted back to sleep.