Mari could not be lost. She took this track so many times she could follow it with her eyes shut. In fact, she had come home so close to dawn a few times that her eyes had been closed more often than open. The moon had traveled two thumbs widths since she'd left Trent's home, and it never took her more than one. The moon was dark, but stars provided enough light to see the well-worn path, which was as familiar to her as the insides of her eyelids. Just off the path, though, she didn't recognize anything that she could see. She could not be lost, and yet she was.
Sighing, Mari strained to see what lie just beyond the range of her vision. After a few minutes of searching she saw a large pine tree she recognized, but it would be much farther into the woods than the track she was on. Should be on. She must have stumbled onto one of the side paths without noticing, her mind still too caught up in the sweet memories of Trent and what they had just shared. If she was where she thought she was, it would be dangerous to try to make it home tonight. The pine tree would have a comfortable layer of needles to cushion her from the forest floor, and the low hanging branches would provide protection from the wind and the rain, should she be so unlucky.
It wouldn't be the first time she had spent the night out of doors. That was why she always went to Trent's home, rather than he to hers. Since Mari was a small girl she had been known for her odd ways, sneaking away from home to be alone, preferring the company of nature and animals to that of her peers. More than once she had been caught by nightfall and found the next morning, surrounded by the flower garlands and herbal bunches that had distracted her from the coming darkness. While she had learned to present a more acceptable face to the village, inspired in no small part by the whispers between the old women and the priests, her parents would not be surprised or suspicious to find her bed empty in the morning.
There was another reason for the arrangement, of course. Were Trent to be caught in her bed he would be publicly flogged and exiled; if she were caught in his, however, he would be forced to marry her. Mari gave a little snort of contempt as she gathered the pine boughs around her, her fingers automatically weaving the little needles into a ring. She and Trent would already be married if her parents weren't so old fashioned. Nearly all the girls in the village were married by sixteen. But Mari's parents came from the Old World before she was born, where tradition dictated a maid may not marry until after the Christ's Mass following her eighteenth birthday. Although she had been eighteen for over four moons already, it would be another two moons still before she would be allowed to wed Trent. Mari was practically an old maid among those peers she had so carefully avoided as a child.
If only her parents knew...
Settled in and wrapped warmly in a blanket of fresh smelling pine, Mari let her mind drift back to tonight's encounter. It had been brief as Trent needed to rise at dawn to accompany his father into the big town for supplies. But tonight they went as far as they had ever dared to go before. Mari wrapped herself in the memory like a gown of the softest silk.
Trent had been asleep when she came in through the open window above his bed, or at least he had been pretending to be asleep, which suited Mari just fine. Without a word she had wrapped herself around him and let her hands wander across his shirtless chest. Though just eighteen himself, Trent was as big and strong as any of the men in the village, and touching him sent shivers through her whole body. After several minutes Mari had grown bold, her hands slipping down below Trent's unbelted waist. She had teased him, groping his thighs and belly while carefully avoiding his increasingly larger manhood. He had groaned, eyes still closed and rolled to his back. His chest glimmering in the faint starlight had been irresistible to Mari. She had kissed his neck, working her way lower and lower until her lips took over the job her hands had been doing moments before.
She had touched him before, even enough to satisfy his need, but tonight she had wanted more. She had wanted all of him. So in one swift movement, before she could talk herself out of it, she took all of him into her mouth. The taste was sweet and salty, and the bulk of his manness brought tears to her eyes as a shudder went through his body. His hands had tangled themselves in her hair as she had slowly worked her mouth up and down the length of him, slowly at first, then gaining speed until she could feel he was nearly at his climax. And then she stopped. Another groan erupted from Trent, and she had stopped it with a kiss.
"You'll wake your parents," she had whispered hoarsely, her passion making her breath ragged.
"I don't care. I would marry you tonight in this bed. Especially if you do THAT again," he had replied, though quietly and with obvious satisfaction.
And then he had taken over, unlacing her blouse with nimble fingers and removing her loose clothing with ease. Left in just her bloomers, Mari's nipples had stood out in the night air, but Trent soon took care of that, covering one with his mouth and crushing the other with his hand. He had taken his time, leaving no inch of her skin unkissed and working his way down with the same maddening slowness she had just used against him. He seemed to hesitate at the top of her bloomers, and Mari was nearly wild with passion.
"It's okay," she had told him. "They won't know." Another of the Old World traditions her parents insisted on was having a midwife inspect their daughter previous to her nuptials. This and only this had prevented Mari and Trent from allowing their passion to overwhelm them. Trent's parents were well off, but his father expected him to earn his keep. Without Mari's dowry, which would be forfeit if they did not follow her parents' rules, it would take them a long time to be able to make a home for themselves. And they very much wanted a place to call their own.
Encouraged by her words, Trent had lowered her bloomers and began kissing just above the fuzz that marked her womanhood. As he became more bold, it was Mari's turn to groan, causing Trent to chuckle. A pillow over her face had allowed Mari to express her longing without risking discovery. Trent's tongue had been everywhere. Mari had touched her secret spot before, as had Trent, but the feelings she felt this time swelled up within her like a wave, threatening to crash and drown her pleasure.
Then his tongue slipped inside her and she had gasped. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" he had asked worriedly. There would be pain, Mari knew, if they had gone too far. She assisted the midwife from time to time, helping prepare herbs and brews, and the old woman had been frank and honest about the workings between men and women. Whether she was trying to help or frighten Mari was unclear, but Mari was grateful for the information either way.
"No," Mari had whispered back once she caught her breath. "It feels wonderful." Emboldened now, Trent had gone straight back to business, caressing, stabbing and sucking until Mari thought she would burst. And then she did. Had it not been for the pillow over her face she would have screamed with her delight. Her body shuddered and leapt off the bed. Trent had held her legs until the shaking stopped, and then he was on her, his manhood pressed into her stomach like a sword. They moved together, their bodies slipping over each other, pressing and rubbing, until Mari had felt a stickiness between them and felt Trent tremble as he satisfied his need.
For a long time they had lain together, breathing as one, not daring to break the spell of their intimacy. At last, Trent had whispered into her ear, "Let's run away. I can apprentice as a blacksmith in the big city. It won't be much but at least we'll be together." There was need in his voice, a longing not just for Mari's body, but for all of her. And she wanted so badly to give it to him.
"You would never be happy," she reminded him, rolling out from under him and searching for her clothes. "You are an artist. Here you have the freedom to work. An apprenticeship in the big city would be little more than slavery for you. I could not do that to you. Besides, it's just two moons until my the Christ's Mass. And we have the nights..."
"Yes," he conceded, watching her dress. "We have the nights."
Mari had sensed he wanted to say more, but there was nothing to say. She would not let him sacrifice his dreams to spare her a few months more in her parents' house. So she had kissed him and slipped out the window, ignoring his pleas to let him walk her home. Now she wished she had taken him up on that offer.
