Page 65 of Homeward for a Spell

A long hiss escapes Sage. “I think I won’t last very long if you keep that up, Bard.”

“Excellent news.” Araphi leans forward, kissing Sage, while also slipping her fingers between Sage’s thighs.

Working carefully, deliberately, but more gently than she did in the hot springs because Sage is injured, Araphi brings Sage to the edge.

“Oh, Bard,” Sage whimpers, her fingers digging into Araphi’s shoulders. “I need your mouth on me, but I don’t want you to drown in this tub. Can you help me to the bed?”

“With pleasure.”

Araphi washes herself quickly and then lifts Sage out of the tub. After they dry off—Sage, with much assistance and attention—Araphi helps her to the bed, their arms tangled around each other, then wraps her knee with a strip of cloth she tears from the bedclothes. Yet another sin committed against the cabin’s owner, whoever they are. Once that’s done, she crawls atop the ranger, who opens for her with every touch. Every kiss. Every small lick and caress. All of Sage is laid bare before Araphi on the bed, inviting her in. Araphi kisses a line along Sage’s inner thigh, whispering closer to her center. She hovers there, savoring the heat emanating from Sage. “Are you in pain, Ranger?” she says, lowering her mouth so it’s just above Sage’s curls.

“Enough teasing. I need your mouth on me now.”

“All you had to say, Ranger.”

Araphi spreads Sage with her fingers and licks a line upward, seeking out the pearl hidden among her valleys. Sage tastes like salt and summer and something sweet Araphi cannot remember, but that feels like honey on her tongue.

“Oh gods, Phi, yes.” Sage’s gasps encourage Araphi, each noise a spur to action and a challenge in its own right.

Araphi persists, her tongue delicately playing music at Sage’s center as she slips a finger inside her.

“More, please,” Sage begs.

Araphi obliges. She adds another finger and works at Sage like she’s playing a ballad on her lute. Like she’s stringing a crowd along. Like she’s enjoying her favorite instrument.

Sage’s hips rise to meet Araphi’s mouth, filling it. Araphi wraps her lips around Sage’s pearl, dragging her tongue along it. Sucking and playing the tune of Sage until she sings.

Until she falls apart. Until she’s gasping Araphi’s name.

Araphi sits back on her heels, pleased, full, but so very hungry for more. The cabin hums with magic.

“Your turn,” Sage says, pulling Araphi closer.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“I’m fine, Bard. Just…be careful.”

Moving delicately, Araphi straddles Sage on the bed, balancing so her weight isn’t on the ranger. Hunger burns through Araphi, insistent as the wind outside the cabin. Sage’s hands are everywhere. The ranger’s skilled, confident fingers cup Araphi’s breasts, her rough calluses rubbing against Araphi’s nipples until they stand at attention. It’s lovely, but Araphi is impatient.

She moves Sage’s hands lower. Sage nods her understanding. She grabs Araphi’s bottom with one hand while the other caresses her center. Araphi seeks more pressure, pushing against Sage’s hand.

Again, Sage understands immediately. She slips several fingers inside Araphi, curling them as she finds a beat. Steadily, insistently, she takes Araphi apart. Araphi rides Sage’s fingers, touching herself all the while.

“I can’t hang on, Ranger,” she pants.

“Then let yourself go.”

Araphi does, riding waves of desire, moving her body up and down on Sage’s hand.

Once she comes back to herself, she sniffs the air, and finds that the smell of freshly baked bread and simmering soup fills the cabin. “I think the magic just made us dinner,” she whispers against Sage’s shoulder.

“Good. I’m starving.”

Somehow, through magic more powerful than its homely setting would let on, two steaming bowls of vegetable soup wait for them at the table. There’s fresh bread too, golden butter, and two glasses of cider. It’s a ridiculous bounty, and one that Araphi knows she should be suspicious of, but she can’t find the strength to worry about it tonight.

They wrap themselves in robes and Araphi assists Sage to the table. Sage props her leg on one of the empty chairs.

“Does it hurt too terribly?”