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Need To Be	By : Storyseeker Category: +S through Z > Tarzan (Disney) > Tarzan (Disney) Views: 19891 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tarzan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Step
- 2-Closer
- 3-Flying
- 4-Being
- 2
- 3
- 4
Contrary to what the torrid romantical serials of the day would have one believe, a woman wasn’t likely to be swept off her feet by a dark and handsome man on any given day; Unless that woman’s name, like herself, happened to be Jane Porter. In which case, she was apparently guaranteed to be literally swept aloft as the established means of transportation to any location required on the spur of the moment.

She barely had time to lay aside her tools when she was lifted up by one very substantial arm, and was ascended vertically. She clung in a tangle of tattered skirts and exposed limbs to Tarzan’s back. Burying her face, she squeaked in still unfamiliar apprehension into the thick cords of his hair. His supple body shifted and moved, carrying them with a graceful supernatural speed through the tangle of the jungle canopy. In spite of her fright, she found herself grinning against his neck. Oh heavens! As high as she’d ever soared into the sky aboard a hot air balloon basket, it compared little to this. Were she aged and dropsied, she’d still thrill at flying like a sparrow through the trees!

All too soon, he alighted on a downward sloping branch at an alarming velocity, and slid the length of the moss slick surface on his bare feet alone. Disengaging her grip as he flew, he vaulted free at the last possible moment, and twirled her in a shrieking controlled arc to deposit her easily onto the turf. Dropping to the ground out of watery knee’d reaction she panted, letting loose with peals of husky giggles.

“Oh my goodness! I shall never become accustomed to it, not if I live to be one hundred!”

She straightened, still giggling at him affectionately as he crouched down before her with a half smile on his own face. She couldn’t resist inclining towards him conspiratorially.

“Though, you should feel free to disprove me at your leisure!” She poked at his shoulder in a familial manner with her finger.

He immediately caught her hand in his, ducking his head to draw his lower face along the back of her hand, nostrils flaring. It was as if he was examining her scent, or scent marking himself as would a house cat. The fact that his eyes remained locked upon hers and his small smile remained, made her feel as if his intentions weren’t anything quite so civilized. Her chuckles hiccuped in her throat and faded away.

“Jane.” His voice was mild. She blinked slowly as if she’d forgotten how. His breath was warm on her wrist.

“Jane.” His lips drew back and his teeth gripped lightly. She felt the wet heat of his tongue against her racing pulse.

She worked to swallow in a throat suddenly gone dry.

She tried to speak, but drawled inarticulately with a nervous giggle trailing behind. Shivering, she tried again, managing no better than an apprehensive low babble. She stared, motionless, as his eyes dropped to her arm. She felt as a bird might feel before a great coiled snake if…if perhaps a small part of the bird were hopeful of the prospect of being devoured.

He relaxed his bite and inhaled, trailing his nose as he did so-from her wrist, to the bend of her elbow, to her shoulder. His body followed his progression so fluidly that they were just that suddenly touching along the lengths of their entire bodies. Jane pressed her lips together around a squeak. “Tarzan!”

He leaned into her, his tongue licking a butterfly path to the nape of her neck. His voice was a rumble in her ear. “Jane tastes good.”

“Do I?” She said, breathless. “I mean, oh! Tarzan, do-do-st-st-! Don’t do...”

“Do…?” He whispered. His arms wound through hers, enfolding her in his grasp.

Again, teeth closed on her skin. She squealed and twisted away from him, clamping her hand over the tingling bite. Quickly she scuttled away, tucking and pulling her skirt into place with fitful jerks. He watched her.

Breathing hard, she vibrated like a terrified mouse; her eyes large as she stared at him from under the fall of her unbound hair. Her small, very white teeth worked her lower lip in unconscious concentration. His nostrils flared, and a responding jolt of sensation spilled low into his belly. Her scent did not match fear.

Tarzan shifted, unsure. Then he smiled at her, offering her soft flash of teeth in her own manner that meant reassurance. Though his blood coursed heavy through him, urging him to her, he hesitated, waiting for her to calm.

As the tension eased from her shoulders, he slowly lay down, stretching next to her to nervous English murmurings and apologies. Dropping his eyes to the mossy growth beneath them, he offered her the back of his wrist, bumping it softly against her leg.

“It’s alright Jane. You’re safe with me.” He found himself reverting to his own language. “You have no idea how much you just being here means to me.”

Jane had no idea what he was saying, but the soft ape murmurings soothed her very ruffled feathers. She hesitantly placed her hand over his offered arm, smiling nervously.

“Silly wild man. You do seem to be in quite a mood today.” She swallowed.

Tarzan’s fingers stroked idly along the fabric of her dress. “Mood?” He asked.

“Mood…” She replied. “Your disposition…that is, your feeling. You seem different.”

“Yes.” He said.

He slid the back of his hand along her thigh in lazy circles. She could feel the flexing of his tendons under her hand. Jane blinked several times, finding it hard to meet his eyes when he raised them to hers again. She jerked her gaze to her lap. Had he moved towards her again, she would have panicked, but he remained sprawled by her side, unmoving, save for the slow strokes of his hand.

While she knew she shouldn’t be allowing him such contact, especially in his present mood, she found she very much wished to remain where she was, by his side, seated on this lush and mossy stream bank where he’d deposited them. She found it difficult indeed to even move her leg away from his artless and innocent caress as would be proper. In fact, when his knuckles slipped beyond the hem of her skirt and grazed her along her bare calf, she found she could now do nothing more than catch her breath softly and remain motionless even as the motion was repeated, and repeated again.

“What is Jane’s ‘mood’?” His soft inquiry made her catch her breath. She swallowed again.

“Mood.” She replied stupidly.

“Disposition.” He prodded. “Feeling.” His knuckles brushed aside her skirt by inches, stroking along the outer edge of her knee and thigh.

“I…have no…I don’t know.” She whispered, after a long pause.

His hand came to a rest at her knee. In the anticipatory stillness, she was made aware of exactly how hard her pulse was now jumping in her throat. With the patience of a hunter, he shifted his arm to take her hand-the one that still rested upon his forearm- in his hand. Without even raising his head towards her, he tugged gently, coaxing her to his side. She settled down, somewhat in relief, supporting her head upon his upper arm.

“Jane.” He whispered, affirming her presence.

He murmured in her ear with soft primate sounds, and slowly curled his body towards her, turning her away, so that she lay pillowed against him along her entire spine. His breath, fast and even, was warm against her shoulder blade. This time when his mouth opened against her skin, she didn’t pull away. His tongue licked softly along the line of her chemise.

“Jane is Tarzan’s.” He whispered between licks. His voice had an almost questioning quality to it.

She shivered in response. Yes, she wanted to say, Yes! But the words wouldn’t pass her lips. Instead, she whimpered softly and shivered, clutching her hands together at her breast.

His knuckles slid once more along the length of her skirts, hooking the edge between his fingers, and then drawing them upward once more.
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Need To Be