The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [389]
“Is that like joining?” Ayla asked. “You never asked me to join with you before. You asked me to come with you, but you never asked me to make a hearth with you.”
“Ayla, Ayla, what’s wrong with me? Why do I take it for granted that you know everything, already? Maybe it’s because you know so much that I don’t know, and you’ve learned so much, so fast, that I forget you’ve just learned it. Maybe I ought to learn a sign for saying things that I don’t have words for.”
Then, with an amused smile of delight, he hunkered down in front of her with one knee to the ground. He wasn’t quite sitting cross-legged, with his head bowed, the way she always did, but he was looking up at her. Ayla was obviously disconcerted, and uncomfortable, which pleased him, because that was always how he felt.
“What are you doing, Jondalar? Men aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t have to ask permission to speak.”
“But I have to ask, Ayla. Will you come back with me, and join with me, and have Zelandoni tie the knot, and make a hearth with me, and make some children for me?”
Ayla started crying again, and felt silly for all the tears she had been shedding. “Jondalar, I never wanted anything else. Yes, to all those things. Now, please, get up.”
He stood up, and took her in his arms, feeling happier than he ever had in his life. He kissed her, then held her to him as though he was afraid to let her go, afraid he might lose her, as he very nearly did before.
He kissed her again, and need for her grew with the wonder of her being there. She felt it, and her body responded and was ready for him. But he wanted no taking of her this time. He wanted her fully, completely. He backed away, and shrugged off the traveling pack he still wore. Then he took out a ground cloth and spread it out. Wolf suddenly came bounding up to him.
“You’re going to have to stay away for a while,” he said, then smiled at Ayla.
She commanded Wolf away, and smiled back at Jondalar. He sat down on the ground cloth and reached his hand up to her. She joined him, already tingling, anticipating, and wanting him so much.
He kissed her then, lightly, and reached for her breast, and savored even the small familiarity of its full, round shape through her light tunic. She remembered, too, and more. Quickly, she pulled the tunic off. He reached for her with both hands, and the next instant, she was on her back, with his mouth firmly on hers. His hand caressed a breast, and found the nipple, and then a warm wet mouth was on her other nipple. She moaned as the drawing sensation sent waves of feeling deep inside to the place that hungered for him. She rubbed his arms, and his broad back, then the back of his neck, and his hair. For just an instant, she was surprised that it wasn’t tightly curled. The thought left as quickly as it came.
He was kissing her again, his tongue gently probing. She took his in, then probed back, remembering that his touch was never too much, or too frenzied, but sensitive and knowing. She delighted in the memory, and in the renewal of it. It was almost like the first time, learning him again, and remembering how well he knew her. How many nights had she longed for him?
He tasted the warmth of her mouth, then the salt of her throat. She felt warm shivers tracing her jaw, then the side of her neck. He kissed her shoulder, nibbled lightly, and suckled, playing with the sensitive places he knew were there. Unexpectedly, he took her nipple again. She gasped at the sudden increase in feeling. Then she sighed, and moaned with pleasure as he played them both.
He sat up then, and looked at her, then closed his eyes as though he wanted to memorize her. She was smiling when he opened them again.
“I love you, Jondalar, and I have wanted you so