Chapter 6 Part 4 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
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This section is NSFW.
They were in range of the lights now, and Twenna could see her rescuer was a man in late middle age wearing a Lover's rose-colored clothing; row after row of elaborate embroidery at the hems marked him as high-ranked, very high-ranked indeed and yet he still patrolled on Neya's Day. Close-cropped, graying hair crowned his balding head but for a little curl of a queue at his nape; limitless kindness filled his large brown eyes. "Who may I thank for my rescue?" she asked.
"My name is Barik Lover, and it's customary in the Temple to say 'thank you' with a kiss. May I?"
Twenna kissed him herself. It wasn't an entirely chaste kiss--rather, a surprisingly skillful and thought-provoking one. At its end, she squeezed Barik's arm and walked away to seat herself among the spectators around the main dais where the Gods would make their farewells. Harsin might be faithless, but she was not.
Excitement rustled through the gathering; the Gods had returned from Their wanderings in the gardens. They moved through the gasping crowd, bestowing a touch here, a kiss there. Neya pulled an older well-dressed woman to her feet and kissed her so thoroughly the woman cried aloud and collapsed into the onlookers' arms, swooning and twitching in obvious bliss. She disappeared under a swarm of worshippers eager to share the blessing she'd received, and reappeared in the arms of two men. They carried her half-undressed into the gardens, a scattering of men and women following behind to watch or join in if they could.
Twenna had never imagined such things. She'd seen this quite respectable woman at various social events, though they'd never been introduced. Her husband had been one of those carting her off into the hedges and didn't seem in the least perturbed that other men were undressing his wife at the same time. Harsin had told her something about Neya's Day, but far from enough.
Harsin--how could he have left her here alone with no one, no escort at all, and gone off with his wife, right in front of her? She should go home.
A hand brushed her hair; a shock flowed from the caress, a tightening of her skin, an unbearable, delightful pressure molding her body. She looked up into the borrowed green eyes of Nerr. "Come here, pretty thing." A yearning obedience overwhelmed her, and she stood. Nerr kissed her, moving His hands down her body to her hips. He broke off long enough to say, "This might sting for a moment," and resumed the kiss.
A sharp burning began under one of His hands, focused in a tight circle on her left hip. She whimpered. In her mind He whispered, "Hush now, little Twenna, this is for the greater good. You will find him--" A golden-haired young man, familiar--what was his name?--filled His eyes, growing to take up all her sight. "You will find him and you will be one with him and only him tonight. No one else will touch you, no one else will know. You will burn until you find him, and when you do, this will be your reward."
Twenna's whimpers turned to moans against His mouth as the burning subsided; pleasure rippled from His searching tongue directly to her core. Nerr pushed His knee between her legs and ground His thigh hard against her mound. His cock was hard against her belly even through her clothes, and she struggled as if she might somehow manage to impale herself on Him, single-minded and frantic in her desire. The pressure grew, squeezing and insinuating itself into her every part, dragging her to a terrifying edge. He ground against her again, sucking on her tongue, and she fell.
Her orgasm flowed up her spine, down her legs, to explode from every finger, every toe, her eyes, her mouth. She saw and heard nothing, stiff and quivering in bliss until she fainted dead away.
Nerr laid her down in the respectful circle of space around them. "You will none of you touch her," He commanded the crowd. "She belongs to one man tonight." Every man, every woman, nodded hazily; they forgot her, and wandered off into the night to find their own blessings among the hedges and trees.
Twenna awoke, her mind clouded. The crowd was flowing around her as if she were a decorative rock: careful not to step on or run into her, but not really seeing her either. She didn't notice them. The vision Nerr had given her filled her head, spilling over into an overwhelming desire that pricked at her skin. She must find the golden-haired man. She must take him inside her. They must become one like the Lovers, and she must enter that promised ecstasy once again. She began searching.
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Son in Sorrow will end its serialization July 15, 2013.
If you'd like to find out what happens sooner than that, or if you'd rather read in an easier-to-use format, buy the ebooks or paperbacks!
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An Intimate History of the Greater Kingdom, The Drifting Isle Chronicles and Scryer's Gulch by Lynn Siprelle writing as MeiLin Miranda are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.








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