“Nay, my lord,” Lara replied amiably, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his big hands on her breasts, his lips on her neck. The hardness beneath her was very exciting, and she was almost embarrassed at how eager she was to have him sheathed within her. The past few weeks had been lonely without him. Whatever had possessed her to spend time in the New Outlands? Now that Dillon and Anoush were living with her it really wasn’t necessary. The children could come next year if they wanted but she was not going to leave Magnus Hauk again.

He took her nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching at them. Lara leaned back, her head resting against his shoulder. “I love your breasts,” he murmured in her ear as he licked the curl of flesh, then blew warm breath upon it.

“I love seeing your hands on my breasts,” she told him breathlessly.

His big strong hands slipped from her bosom and caressed her belly. “I want the son you promised me,” he told her.

“I am ready to give you that son, my lord and my love,” she answered him.

He reached down and touched her mons, sliding a finger between her nether lips to find the center of her. She was already creamy with her need for him. She sighed as his finger played with her, and the longing in the sound made him turn her about so that they were facing one another. He lay back and she sat atop him licking her lips in anticipation of the passion to come. His manhood stood straight and tall before her.

Reaching out Lara caressed it first with delicate fingers that trailed down the thick pillar of hard flesh. Then she grasped him in her two little hands and slowly, slowly, pushed his foreskin down and then up again several times. The ruby head of his manhood glowed like a beacon and when a small pearl of his juices appeared Lara bent herself over him and lapped it up with her tongue. Then her tongue carefully encircled the tip several times before she took him in her mouth to suck upon him.

Magnus Hauk groaned, and for just the briefest moment he thought that his head was going to explode along with his manhood. “I won’t spill my juices down your greedy maw,” he told her in a tight voice. “My seed is strong and we can create a son with it.”

Lara immediately released him, looking to him for direction.

“I have to taste you,” he told her as he lifted her up and lay her on her back. “I need the taste of you flooding my senses.” He yanked at several pillows upon the bed and pushed them beneath her so that her hips were elevated high. Then he pushed her legs apart and put his head between her shapely thighs. She drew her nether lips apart for him and he began to lick eagerly at her. His tongue moved slowly over the insides of her nether lips. It found her center, her jewel, and he nibbled at it. Then taking it into his mouth he sucked hard upon it and Lara’s body spasmed beneath him as her juices flowed copiously. “I can’t wait,” he apologized as he mounted her.

“Neither can I,” she said softly and then gasped with delight as he filled her heated body with his throbbing manhood. Lara wrapped her legs about her husband’s torso, clinging to him as he began to piston her with long, slow strokes, which quickened and grew more powerful in intensity. Her nails raked down his back, and raising her head she bit down on his shoulder hard.

“Vixen!” he growled at her and then he groaned as his pulsing manhood felt her sheath tightening about him, as he sensed the climax of their lust beginning to quiver within her. He waited, waited, and then released his juices, shuddering as they attained pleasure together in each other’s arms. “I love you, my faerie wife!” he told her.

“And I love you, my mortal husband,” Lara murmured, reluctant to allow the pleasures to fade away as they eventually must.

A knocking came upon the door as they lay recovering in each other’s arms.

“Mama! Let us in,” they heard Zagiri calling. “I want to see Papa!”

Magnus began to laugh and Lara called out, “Papa and I are busy, Zagiri. We will see you later.” She struggled not to giggle.

“No, Mama! Now!” Zagiri shouted.

“Zagiri,” they heard Anoush say, “come away. They are taking pleasures now and do not want to be disturbed. Come with me, Little Sister.”

“What are pleasures?” Zagiri demanded to know.

But whatever Anoush told Zagiri they did not hear. It was obvious the two girls had moved away from the bed chamber door.

Lara’s eyes were brimming with her mirth.

“What can Anoush possibly know about pleasures?” Magnus demanded of his wife. “She is still a little girl. And Zagiri is certainly too young to understand.”

Lara laughed softly. “Aye, Anoush is a little girl but in the summer months she runs with all the village children. Some are older and some younger. And they all listen to adult conversations because adults speak carelessly before children, not believing that the children could be possibly interested. That is how they pick up knowledge of things beyond their ken,” she explained.

“We will have to learn to be careful in future, my love,” Magnus told her.

“We will,” Lara agreed solemnly but her eyes were still dancing.

He chuckled. “I suppose we should get up and join the evening gathering in the hall like a respectable Dominus and Domina.”

“Perhaps it would be a good idea,” Lara agreed, “but I did enjoy this little interlude with you, my lord. I think I will not leave you again for several weeks’ time.”

“I think I will not let you,” he agreed as he stood up.

They bathed quickly and dressed. Upon entering the hall they were greeted warmly by the Fiacre.

“Ah,” teased Noss, “I see you are blooming with happiness to have your husband with you again. And he looks like a large yellow tomcat who has just enjoyed a very large bowl of warm, sweet cream. When did he arrive?”

“Earlier in the afternoon,” Lara replied, watching as her three children now swarmed the Dominus. He hugged Dillon and Anoush first and then picked Zagiri up in his arms, kissing her cheek before putting her back down again.

“Anoush said you were taking pleasures with our mother,” Zagiri began. “Do you take pleasures with Mama often, Papa?”

The Dominus looked perplexed. He flushed.

“Really, Zagiri,” Dillon spoke up, coming to his stepfather’s rescue. “Pleasures are something private between adults. They are not discussed with little children, as you will understand someday.”

“Do you take pleasures, Dillon?” Zagiri asked him.

“I am too young to take pleasures or even discuss them,” Dillon said sternly. “And if I am too young, then you certainly are too young.”

“But Anoush said-”

“Anoush,” her brother said, glowering at his blushing sister, “knows even less about pleasures than I do, so I would not listen to any of her chatter, little one.”

“Oh,” Zagiri responded.

“Thank you, my son,” the Dominus said. “I could not have put it better myself.”

Dillon swallowed the grin that threatened to explode across his face.

The evening progressed with food, frine and song, but ended early, for the trek to the Gathering would begin at first light. Many of the Fiacre would travel to the autumn festival held every year. The most elderly and fragile, however, would remain behind. This year it had been decided that Bera would not go.

“I want no discord,” Liam, the lord of the Fiacre, said quietly.

“She is quiet, poor lady,” Noss protested.

“Most of the time now, aye, but if something distresses her, and one never knows what will distress her, then she becomes very vocal and abusive,” Liam said. “I do not want her among us this time. And, too, Cam will be there with Sholeh. He is sure to attempt to arouse her to a frenzy for his own amusement. Nay. Bera remains in Camdene this year. She does not go out now except to sit in her back garden. She will not even know that we are gone.”

The next morning, Lara, Magnus and their three children arose early and ate quickly. Then they gathered with the others and mounting their horses, moved off. While Dillon and Anoush rode their own horses, little Zagiri rode with her father, seated before him on his saddle. It was two days’ travel to the site, and when they arrived the Fiacre found two of the clan families just arrived, the Felan and the Aghy. Roan of the Aghy came forward to help Lara from her saddle, his hands lingering about her waist just a moment longer than they should have. She laughed down at him and shook her finger in remonstrance. He grinned back. Magnus Hauk glared at the Horse Lord but as always Roan of the Aghy wasn’t in the least intimidated. He stepped forward, shook the Dominus’s hand and bid him welcome to the Gathering.

Eventually all the clan families arrived, and for the next few days they feasted and socialized with one another. The annual meeting of the New Outlands High Council was held but there was virtually nothing to report. After several years the clan families had put down deep roots and were content to be freed from the threat of Hetar. In a short ceremony each of the clan families paid their annual tribute to the Dominus, who accepted it graciously.

Afterwards, Magnus asked his wife, “Should we tell them of Hetar’s planned aggression against Terah?”

“Nay, not yet,” Lara said. “If we need to confer later with the clan lords we can bring them to our castle, but the Icy Season is coming. It is unlikely that Hetar will cross the Sagitta until spring. We have the watchtowers on the heights to warn us of any approaching vessels. We have an army now that is well trained. The Emerald Mountain Range separates us from the New Outlands. There is no need to fret the clan families, but I would tell one of the lords. Rendor should know.”

“Not Roan? He is the warlord of the clan families.”