That was how it had been tonight. Kuz had sat up late by the dying embers of the fire, his clouded expression that of a man who needed to be alone, to think his own thoughts to the exclusion of everything else. So she had retired to bed, was almost asleep when he came for her.
He jerked her into wakefulness by her long hair, pulled her up into a sitting position and by the glow of the last embers she saw his expression, twisted animal lust that transcended fury. She choked back a scream as he dragged her down on to the floor, threw her forcibly over into a kneeling position. My pleasure, not yours, woman!
She hadn't been ready, tensed herself as he stabbed at her, knew it would hurt. It did. It could have been a roughly hewn wooden dildo that bored into her, drew back, thrust again. And again.
She would have fallen forward had he not been supporting her, his arms around her from behind in a crushing grip, his fingers twisting and gouging her soft breasts, pinching and scraping, screwing up her soft nipples. But she dared not cry out aloud for he would surely have beaten her, perhaps worse.
Jackie felt the thick warm liquid filling her up, knew that Kuz was almost finished. His withdrawal was followed by a vicious thrust, the force of it throwing her against the side of the stone bed. Blinding pain as her forehead took the impact, red spotted blackness. His hands sought her again; roughly, angrily pulling her up, hurling her back on to the pile of hides. She rolled, bounced off the stone wall, lay still.
Then he was beside her, stretching out, turning away from her. Another need had to be satisfied—sleep.
Kuz was sleeping very deeply. Her pain simmered to a dull ache and then she found herself thinking about the prisoner in the pit again. A strange creature, so different; flesh that was white and soft, hairless. An absence of muscle. Clothes that stifled his body, barely allowed it to breathe. And yet she found him fascinating. So ... gentle, harmless.
Something flickered in her brain like a spent torch bulb trying to reignite itself. A dim flash, then it went out. A spark, a faint memory stirring for a fraction of a second, showing her a face then cutting out before she could recognise it. Her pulses raced, her heart speeded up a beat. Features similar to those of the one the menfolk had brought home from their hunting trip, deep blue eyes that pleaded with her, lips that moved, formed words she understood. / need you, Jackie. Please come back to me. Disturbed, she jerked back into full wakefulness, thought about the captive again and her eyes filled with tears. Pity was a new experience for her, one that she had had no use for before. Strength predominated amongst her people, one did not show weakness because there was no place for it. She had never cried before, the threat of tears made her afraid because she did not understand them, only her feelings. That man down in the deep hole meant more to her than any of those around her, more than Kuz. Fear, in case her slumbering man so much as guessed her thoughts. He would do more than just beat her, she was certain, he would kill her!
And she knew that she had to go to the prisoner. The idea set her whole body trembling and she inched even further away from Kuz. Her heart was pounding wildly and sensations which Kuz had failed to arouse within her were making themselves known. An instinct beyond her comprehension was calling her, and she had no choice other than to answer it.
She moved slowly, fearfully, her eyes fixed on the sleeping form by her side. She already had an excuse in case he suddenly awoke; I need to squat. Maybe he would believe her, grab her again by the hair, drag her back, shake her until her brain slopped from side to side. You're lying, woman, you're slinking off to fuck with one of those men out there, aren't you? I'd sooner kill you than have you mate with one of them. She knew he would, too.
But he didn't stir, not even when she straddled over him, eased her trembling right leg clear of the bed, dropped to her knees. She was trembling violently, opened her mouth to stop her teeth chattering. If he sees me now, I'm done.
She crawled, drew back when an ember brightened, burst into yellow flame then died down again, eyed her redly, wickedly. See, Kuz, your woman sneaks off on a mission of infidelity; awake, and beat her.
Kuz half-stirred, grunted in his sleep, then his breathing lapsed back into its former rhythm. Jackie scuttled like a crab surprised by a rock-pool fisherman, a desperation about her ungainly movements. If he wakes now I shall flee into the darkness, hide from him. I would sooner be dead than let you take me again, Kuz.
The settlement was still and silent, the stone houses starkly silhouetted against a quarter moon. The inhabitants slept, had no need to mount a guard. She kept to the shadows, ran from building to building, glancing back fearfully, but there was no pursuit. How long before Kuz's instincts warned him that he was alone in his bed?
Before her she saw a patch of shadow that was blacker than the rest: the pit! New fears assailed her. The strange man who lay in its depths might resent her visit, might shout a warning that would bring the others. She was an enemy, he might attack her, kill her, if she went to him. No, he was not strong enough, her own strength was greater than his.
She lay full-length, used her elbows to propel herself forward. Her arm brushed against something and she recognised it as the ladder; to free him would be simplicity itself. No, first she must look, see him again. She had to be sure.
Nervously she edged her head and shoulders over the rough brink, narrowed her eyes, tried to adjust them to the dense blackness below. Nothing but darkness, the pit might have been empty, the prisoner somehow having scaled the sheer sides and fled. Despair; even if this was so then she was not going back to Kuz. She would die first, by her own hand if necessary.
Wait! She could just make out a shape huddled in the bottom, pale flesh, a curled-up sleeping form. Her acute hearing picked out his breathing, soft and regular. She continued to stare, waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the blackness as they surely would, felt her body tingle with anticipation.
A noise which she identified at once, a dislodged pebble sliding, bouncing, rolling; hitting something, coming to a standstill. Jackie caught her breath, knew that she had knocked against a loose stone, that it had struck the slumbering captive, was stirring him uneasily. He sat up, glanced about him, then looked upwards. And saw her.
'Who's there? What do you want?'
Incomprehensible words in a strange tongue, but fear rather than anger. His face was upturned and she saw the hopelessness in his wide eyes, a hand flung up to protect his head as though he expected to be stoned.
Jackie rose to a kneeling position, wished that in some way she could communicate. See, I am a woman, naked because I have just left my sleeping man's bed. Do not be alarmed because I mean you no harm. I ... I ... she could not express her own feelings even to herself, but something inside her seemed to say, 'I have met one like you before, I know I have.' But she could not be sure . . . that face with the blue eyes had been only a dream and now it was gone forever.
He stood up, and they looked at each other uncertainly, warily. Phil Winder thought, Is this some kind of a trick? He recognised her now, the girl who had been the chiefs woman, too damned attractive for this lot of gorillas. What was she up to, though?
She drew back, disappeared from view. He sighed, leaned back against the side, told himself that she had probably only sneaked down here out of curiosity. God, I wish I'd got some clothes. He sensed that he might be blushing which was bloody silly considering the predicament he was in.