Bronto's Revenge: 2 (Barbarian Lust) (4 page)

BOOK: Bronto's Revenge: 2 (Barbarian Lust)
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Vulcan rubbed his chin. “Was it a shifter?”

“No.” Bronto nudged his head over his shoulder. “It’s back
there. I need help transporting it.”

Vulcan nodded.

“What happened with the dinosaur?” Bronto asked.

“Was it a tyrannosaur?” Ivy blurted.

“No,” Vulcan replied. “Tyran said it was a brachiosaur.”

Vulcan was such a handsome man with his long, dark hair and
defined features. Her sister was a lucky woman. Ivy inwardly smiled. So was
she. Bronto was just as appealing. The only difference was she hadn’t stolen
his heart.

Vulcan laid a hand on Bronto’s shoulder. “It never made it
into camp. It stood near the meadow but it changed its direction.”

“There may be an infestation soon. There’s a dozen or so
abandoned babies back there as well.” Bronto indicated with another nudge
beyond his shoulder. “They’re climbing out of the ground. I assume they’ve just
hatched.” He glanced at Ivy and Wisteria then refocused on Vulcan. “You know
what we’ve got to do, Chieftain. We can’t risk the species capturing them for
experimentation.”

Vulcan again nodded. “Unfortunately I do.”

Bronto sidestepped around him. “We’re going to eat
something. Would you like to join us?”

“We’ve already eaten but we’ll sit for a while,” Vulcan
replied as he led Wisteria away by the arm. “I need to grab a few supplies
first.”

Jade stood near Rocko by the stone table and she smiled and
grabbed a couple of bowls when they approached. Grunt sat by the fire, carving
a spear from a long stick. His eyes rolled upward and his gaze absorbed every
portion of Ivy.

Bronto’s arm slid around her lower back. Although he said
nothing his possessive hold said a lot. She was certain Grunt understood
because he stood, stuck the spear into the ground then strode toward the huts.

She sat in his empty seat, bending her legs to the side,
then watched Bronto fill two bowls with grains. He then stopped at the end of
the table, sprinkled them with red and blue berries then removed his furs,
revealing chest muscles and a defined belly.

She swallowed while her gaze followed the contours to where
they disappeared beneath his loincloth. A leather loincloth bulging in the
front. She swallowed again. Harder. And turned away. She knew what a man’s
organ looked like. She’d seen one of her clansmen’s when he’d relieved himself
in the bushes. She’d also seen it grow long and stiff when he’d stroked it. She
hadn’t meant to spy but it intrigued her to watch. He’d moved his hips back and
forth at the speed of his hand until he groaned and something spurted from the
tip. She never told anyone, not even Wisty, because she was too embarrassed.

But imagining Bronto touching himself in such a way caused a
tingly reaction in her private area she couldn’t contain.

“Are you all right, Ivy?” Bronto asked, offering her a bowl.

She glanced upward, nodded and accepted the grains, noticing
her hands trembled.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Why?”

Her gaze followed him as he sat down, crossing his legs.
When his knee brushed her thigh, her belly fluttered and warmth bathed her
insides.

“Your face is flushed.”

She shifted her eyes to the burning embers in the fire pit
and straightened her lower garment at her waist. “I’m okay.”

She sighed in relief when Wisteria and Vulcan sat down. She
needed the distraction because Bronto’s closeness caused many internal
reactions. If her face had already turned red she feared she couldn’t contain
all of the symptoms.

“Ack.” Birmon waddled between her and her sister, shook then
tucked himself beneath his wings.

Wisteria spun toward Ivy, holding something shiny between
her fingers. This,” she said, raising the object for Ivy to see, “is a
tweezers.” She pinched them open and closed. “And this,” she held up her
opposite hand, exposing another shiny object no thicker than a strand of wheat,
“is a
real
needle. And I think we’re about to perform sur-ger-ry.” She
glanced at Vulcan. “Is that how you say it?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, sweetheart.”

Had Ivy not known how much Vulcan loved Wisteria, his
expression would’ve just revealed his feelings. It was more powerful than
words.

Ivy scrunched her nose while looking at both items. “What
are they for?”

Wisteria flipped her hand over in front of Ivy, her palm
facing the sky. “To remove my splinters.”

Ivy placed her hand beneath Wisteria’s and studied three
raised, reddish-white bumps. “Those are blisters.”

“The splinters are inside,” Wisteria explained. “You can’t
see them. We have to dig them out.”

“Where did they come from?”

“The wood we cut from the trees.” Wisteria glanced to the
side and addressed Vulcan. “Now what should I do?”

“Just keep talking to your sister and give me your hand.”

Ivy wished they
could
talk but what she wanted to
talk about, the men couldn’t hear. She had a lot of questions about making
love. How to, first of all. The more time she spent with Bronto, the more
curious she became. It was getting harder and harder to sit near him without
having wandering thoughts. She couldn’t even control the moisture dripping
between her thighs in the presence of her sister and Vulcan.

“Ouch,” Wisteria shrieked.

Vulcan rubbed her wrist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Ivy, tell your sister about the beautiful place we found
today,” Bronto chimed in.

“It
was
beautiful, Wisty,” Ivy began, “more beautiful
than the yellow—”

“Oww.” Wisteria jumped and tried yanking her hand free but
Vulcan tightened his grip. “Give me the needle,” she begged, wiggling her
fingers. “I’ll do it.”

“I’ve already got one out,” Vulcan stated. “It’s right
here.” He held up the tweezers. A long, thin piece of wood dangled from the
tips. “Sometimes they feel worse coming out than they do going in.”

“Do I have any skin left?” Wisteria grumbled.

Vulcan smiled and shook his head. “I barely pricked the
skin. What hurt is when I pulled it out.”

“See, I told you
pulling out
hurts,” Wisteria
declared. Her eyes widened to the size of a melon, her cheeks turned a dark
shade of red and she slapped a hand over her mouth, appearing to realize she’d
said something she shouldn’t have.

Vulcan clamped his lips shut and his shoulders jerked.
Bronto’s eyes rolled upward and he stared as if saying, “I can’t believe she
just said that.”

Vulcan laughed and shrugged. “What can I say?”

Bronto shook his head, grinning ear to ear.

Obviously Ivy had no clue what was going on. A personal joke
maybe? “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Wisteria said quickly as if to shush her.

Vulcan winked. “Well, sweetheart, I promise
not
to
hurt
you later.”

What!
Ivy gasped and glared at Vulcan. “Why would you
hurt my sister?”

Bronto patted Ivy’s knee. “Calm down, love.”

“Rest assured, Ivy,” Vulcan intervened, “I’ve not once laid a
hand on her.”

Ivy huffed, crossing her arms at her waist. “Then what are
you talking about?”

“He’s playing,” Wisteria confessed.

“It surely does not sound like fun.”

After a quick glance at Bronto, then Vulcan, Wisteria rested
her gaze on Ivy and sighed. “He’s referring to making love.”

Yeah, that made her feel better. “You told me it barely
hurt.”

Wisteria’s mouth dropped. She snapped it closed. “Yes, I…”
She fidgeted with the hem of her frock and sighed. “It doesn’t.”

“Then what is Vulcan talking about?”

Bronto snickered.

“Yes, please do tell her what I’m talking about,” Vulcan
insisted.

Wisteria sighed again. Louder. “Ivy, when you love someone…”
She paused. “This is not the right place or time for this discussion.”

“I think the timing and placement is perfect,” Vulcan
disagreed. “Don’t you, Bronto?” he goaded.

“Definitely,” Bronto replied.

Ivy folded her lips to stifle laughter when Wisteria snarled
at Vulcan. “Ivy, when you love someone,” she repeated, “you crave their touch.”
Though she spoke to Ivy, she continued snarling at Vulcan. “Sometimes you feel
as if you can’t get enough. And sometimes, when you’re consuming them and
feeding your desire, it hurts when they
pull
away.”

That was it? Ivy had already experienced those feelings many
times when she and Bronto parted for the night. “Thanks, Wisty. I get it now.”
She loved being with Bronto. She also loved the way he’d touched her face and
stroked the skin beneath her eye this morning. And his smile. She truly loved
his bright smile. There wasn’t a thing she’d change about him. Nothing.

She knew what a special man she’d encountered the day he’d
cut her loose from Sledge’s bindings and massaged the stiffness from her wrists
and shoulders. With Wisty as an exception, no one ever treated Ivy with that
type of kindness. No one. Not her father or brothers. Not even her momma.

He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen but he reeked of
danger. A dark shadow of facial hair defined his features. His ebony eyes were
cutting yet expressive and his black brows and hair added power and strength to
his appearance. A man of darkness.

Had she not met him on favorable terms she would’ve been
frightened by his presence alone. She didn’t know how Wisty survived her fears.
She’d been terrified when the Barbarians took her from her home. What a scary
situation for a woman to endure. Everyone feared the Barbarians and when they
rode off with Wisty, Ivy wanted to die. That night she couldn’t imagine the
terror or torture her sister was forced to endure.

Bronto captured her gaze and smiled right before he stood.
“I’m going to gather some men and retrieve that cave lion.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Vulcan said.

“Can I come with you too?” Ivy asked.

“Absolutely.” Bronto smiled and offered his hand. When she
slid her palm against it her insides shivered. “Bronto?”

“Yes?”

Why haven’t you kissed me yet?
She lowered her eyes
to the ground. “Never mind.”

 

Chapter Four

 

Ivy threw another hunk of wood into the fire and scooted
closer for warmth. She could not shake the chills no matter what she tried. Two
furs were draped over her shoulders but they failed to provide enough heat to
stop her shivers. Neither did the one-piece frock Jade had given her to wear.

The freezing began after she and Bronto wandered off for a
bath shortly after they’d returned with the cave lion then started chopping
down trees for wood to reinforce the huts. Well, since he had chopped—she’d
watched. The water was so cold he said her lips had turned blue.
Blue lips.
That didn’t make a very pretty visual.

The hut flap swooshed open and he stepped inside, carrying a
clay cup. The firelight cast an orange glow over a portion of his body. The
other portion remained hidden in the darkness. Half man, half shadow, he inched
forward, gazing at her from his one visible eye. He represented power and
strength and carried himself with so much pride her breath caught.

“Try this, love, but be careful, it’s hot.” He grimaced as
he handed her the cup. Steam rose from the contents and disappeared into the
air.

It immediately warmed her hands but she was no longer
concerned with finding warmth, for his grimace indicated pain. She set the cup
down near the fire-pit border. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Overexertion.” He smiled while clasping the back of his
neck and very slowly tilted his head side to side. “The ax got the best of me.”

She reached for his hand. “Come here. Sit down.”

After he lowered himself to the hide she scooted behind him
on her knees and sat back on her haunches. And then she froze at the sight of
his wide, bare shoulders glowing in the firelight. She’d do anything for a
chance to run her hands all over his body but this wasn’t the chance. He was
uncomfortable and she needed to fix his pain.

Inhaling a sharp breath, she split his hair into two
sections and draped them over his shoulders, where they tumbled to his chest.
Her hands trembled as she placed her fingertips on either side of his neck. She
closed her eyes. So much muscle and strength and…tension. Her eyes popped open.
He was in pain. She needed to remember that.

Warm sparks ignited in her tummy and spread throughout her
body, heating her to such a degree she shoved the hides off her shoulders and
let them drop to the ground.

After dragging another mouthful of air into her lungs, she
released it slowly and started a gentle massage.

He groaned and tilted his head forward. “You’re shaking,
love.”

Like leaves in the wind.
“I’m still cold,” she
fibbed.

“Then why’d you remove the furs?”

“They’re in the way.” Adding pressure with her fingers, she
rubbed little circles at the base of his neck. The tissue was bumpy from small,
hard knots. One at a time she worked them loose by prodding and pressing.

“Ivy, where did you learn how to do this?”

“I used to rub my father’s back after a day’s hunt. That was
a long time ago.” She smiled bittersweetly to herself. “Before he started
hating us.” Over time she’d accepted it but saying it out loud choked her up.
She inhaled deeply to ward off the burning sensation in her eyes.

“I find it hard to believe he ever hated you.”

“It’s true.” She worked her hands to his collarbone then his
upper spine. “He blamed Boar for Lily’s death because Boar had taken her to the
green lake to teach her how to spear fish.” Ivy shuddered at the memory of her
father beating Boar nearly to death with his club. “If my older brother Shale
hadn’t stepped in, my father would’ve killed Boar. Since that day, Father
hasn’t liked us much.”

Bronto’s shoulders stiffened. “Maybe he was just bitter.”

“No.” She shook her head even though Bronto couldn’t see. “He
would never disown us girls for simply kissing a man not of our blood. He would
stone us as punishment then move on. He wanted rid of Wisteria. That’s why he
ordered her whipping and wouldn’t let her come home. If he hadn’t died it was
just a matter of time before he banished me as well.”

“Was Vulcan the man who’d kissed her?”

“Yes. It’s sad. When we ran away the other night, Momma
forgave Wisty and wanted her to come home but my father chased her away.”

“I know. Vulcan and I were watching from the forest.”

Her hands stilled. “You were?”

“Yes. I had to practically wrestle Vulcan to the ground to
keep him from charging your father. He’d nearly frothed at the mouth when he
saw him yank Wisteria’s hair and threaten her with his club.”

“Then I guess Vulcan didn’t feel too bad when he killed my
mutant father?” She stared past his shoulder to the fire. “Is he the one who
actually did it?”

“Love, we’re not going to discuss that. It had to be done.
By whom doesn’t matter.” He cautiously turned his head sideways. “But standing
beside your sister in her time of need says a lot.”

She spread her hands over his upper back to the outside of
his shoulders. “I would never leave her, Bronto. Ever.” She traced the tattoos
with her nails then returned her fingers to his neck and slid them up and down.
The tension had lessened but she continued to rub anyway. She wasn’t ready to
quit touching him just yet. He was like a calming elixir capable of chasing
away her monsters. When she was in his presence, nothing else mattered.

She came up on her knees and leaned forward to where her
lower tummy brushed against his back and she glided her hands down the entire
length of his arms. She tried squeezing them but the muscles were rock hard and
wouldn’t press in. So powerful yet they were gentle when he’d embraced her all
those times. She needed them again, now, wrapped around her body.

She snuggled her face in his neck and closed her eyes,
inhaling his scent. The vein in his neck softly ticked against her upper lip.
Very discreetly she gave it a tender kiss. He swallowed and groaned and his
spine stiffened beneath her belly.

Smiling to herself, she kissed it once more. “Bronto, would
you mind if I spend the night with you again?”

Another groan escaped from his throat. “Not at all, but if
your sister has anything to—”

“She won’t. I already told you that.”

“Yes, you did.”

She lowered her fingers to his waist. His skin was hot and
inviting and she couldn’t shake the temptation to further explore. She wanted,
no, she needed to touch him all over. She slid her hands under his arms toward
his belly and massaged the grooves along his rib cage. He immediately cupped
her wrists and raised them. Rather than lower them at her sides as she’d
expected, he brought her hands to his mouth and softly kissed each finger.

Her belly withered to mush. She grew woozy and her legs
trembled. Before she actually teetered sideways she laid her cheek against his
back. The heat. Oh gosh, the heat was overwhelming.

Her lashes fluttered but she refused to open her eyes.
Everything at the moment fluttered in one way or another. Especially her blood.
It didn’t appear to know where to go and it tingled and prickled and rushed to
her most secret places. The area between her legs grew wet, throbbed and ached
in the nicest way imaginable.

She wanted to call his name but feared it might stop the
moment. If so, she might never recoup. They were skin-to-skin for the very
first time. Cheek-to-back didn’t matter. What mattered was, she was closer than
she’d ever been to this man. The man she craved.

She righted her head and kissed his spine. When he stiffened
and grunted she kissed it again. Beads of perspiration not present moments ago
surfaced on his back. She wanted to feel their naked bodies sliding together in
it.

Without another thought she wiggled her hands free and
lifted the frock over her head. In the span of a heartbeat she was completely
nude. The fabric hadn’t even hit the ground before she leaned forward, pressing
her bare breasts and tummy into his back between his shoulder blades.

The heat… Wow, the heat was entrancing. Her nipples hardened
despite the warmth. She slid them along his flesh as she kissed moist circles
around his upper spine.

He shuddered and sucked in a breath. “Ivy,” he said, his
voice reflecting the undertone of a growl.

“Shhh,” she whispered, snaking her hands around his neck.

He grabbed her wrists and held them. “Ivy,” he repeated in a
voice so low she wasn’t sure he’d actually spoken to her. Then in slow motion
he lifted her arms above his head and spun her from his back side to his front,
where she landed sideways in his lap.

With her heartbeat racing, he released her wrists and palmed
her cheeks. “Are you sure you’re ready to take things this far?”

If she had any hidden doubts they withered away from the
compassion in his eyes. She folded her lips and nodded.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes,” she said through a breath, laying her hands on top of
his and giving them a squeeze.

“What we accomplish,” he added, his gaze capturing her
breasts, “cannot be undone.”

“I know.”

He inhaled sharply and refocused on her eyes. “Do you have
any idea what happens?”

“I…I… Just the little bit Wisty told me. You’ll show
me…right?”

“Yes, I’ll show you,” he replied, stroking the skin beneath
her eye with his thumb—the action she loved so much. “But if you change your
mind,” he continued, gazing at her as if she would break, “you need to tell
me.”

She didn’t expect to but a subtle
yes
slipped from
her throat.

She sucked in air as he lowered his lips to her mouth. They
barely touched but were so close his trembling breath spread across her hands
like a gentle breeze.

“Kiss me, love.”

Her belly sank. She removed her hands from his, cupped his
face and ever so softly patted her lips against his.

“Like you mean it,” he said.

Again she patted his lips, allowing her mouth to linger a
second longer.

“No. Like this.” He captured her lips, forcing them apart,
and slid his tongue into her mouth.

Gosh, she hadn’t expected that. No, she hadn’t but something
inside her exploded. A mixture of prickly heat and excitement branched from her
tummy, spreading through her like a wildfire. Even her face felt flushed. Was
this the sensation Wisty had tried to explain?

The moment his tongue slipped alongside hers, coaxing it to
react, she lost her sense of concentration and instinct took over. She wound
her tongue around his and at the same time shifted in his lap to where she
straddled his waist. It didn’t matter she’d exposed the center of her thighs.
Nor did it matter the moisture flowing from her body absorbed into his
loincloth right where his hard organ pressed against her flesh. She wanted to
snuggle beneath his skin but she couldn’t seem to get close enough.

He retracted his hands from her face and placed them on her
lower back and neck. Their lips remained interlocked as he carefully flipped
her backward onto the ground. She sank quickly into the furs from his weight
bearing down on her body. The fibers brushed against her shoulders and spine.
Her skin became so sensitive she was aware of every single strand tickling her
flesh.

She latched on to his upper arms. Thick muscle hardened
beneath her palms as he propped himself above her, his elbows bearing the brunt
of his weight. She’d never felt so small or in lack of control but an exciting
thrill rushed through her veins. She was secure, protected and she turned her
body over to him completely, trusting he’d treat her gently regardless of his
size and strength.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
“Ivy, I’ve changed my mind,” he said, his breath shaky as it sawed in and out
of his broad chest. “I have only one thing to say.”

Oh no.
He couldn’t change his mind. He couldn’t. She
hadn’t led him this far to let him back down. Her heart plummeted. She laid her
hands on the back of his head and stroked his hair, holding him in case she was
drawn to beg. “Yes?” she reluctantly asked.

“If you’re going to run, do it now because I won’t give you
another opportunity.”

Those words were so final and had the potential to scare her
yet they enchanted her to the bone. Maybe she’d misunderstood them but she
certainly hadn’t misunderstood his tone. Could she handle it if he got carried
away or unexpectedly became rough?

A smidgen of reluctance mixed with excitement wiggled along
her spine. The thought alone of bringing him to this point made her tummy spin
in pride and no way would she bail now. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He rolled off her, rising to his haunches between her
thighs. “That was your only chance.”

His dark gaze displayed hunger as it caressed her body from
her brows to her thighs. The same raw hunger she’d witnessed only in the cave
lion’s eyes.

“Don’t move,” he commanded as he started to rise.

“Where are you going?”

Rather than take a full stance he relaxed into a squat. “To
get a condom.”

“What is that?”

His gaze strolled across her breasts to her hips then to her
face. “It will prevent me from planting my seed inside your womb,” he explained
as he stood.

“Wait.” She sat up and took hold of his hand. “You don’t
want a child?”

His features softened. “I want a lot of children.”

“Then why would you prevent it from happening? I can give
you many babies.”

He returned to a squat. “You would risk abandonment by your
people to cross bloodlines with me?”

“Yes,” she said stroking her palm lightly across his cheek.
“Only with you.” She lowered her lashes and swallowed. “But if you don’t want
me to birth your children I’ll understand.”

“My God, Ivy,” he said as he began to lay her down, “before
you, life and children were just a dream. You’re the woman I want. And the only
woman I want to have my babies.”

BOOK: Bronto's Revenge: 2 (Barbarian Lust)
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