by Ruby Dixon
I can feel my eyes widen. I don’t know what a metlak is, but just the word “rutting” has my cootie all stirred up. That mental image is fascinatingly shocking, though, and I picture Zolaya on top of me, all of his control gone. For the first time in what feels like forever, a tremor of arousal moves through me. My cootie purrs, pleased, and I suddenly don’t want Zolaya going anywhere. I sure don’t want him outside the room like he’s been kicked to the curb. “I want you to stay with me, Zo,” I tell him softly. “Can’t we just share furs and sleep?”
He’s silent for a moment, and then nods. “We can do that.” His fingers brush over my cheek in the dark. “Get under the furs and I will slide the privacy screen in place.”
I sit down on the bed and pull my boots off once more, then watch as he pulls what looks like a sliding door forward across the entryway. Okay, so privacy screens are doors. Good to know. I mentally file that information away for later. When he turns back to me, I pretend a casualness I don’t feel as I smooth the furs over my body.
Zolaya sits down next to my bed and then slides under the covers. I feel his body brush against my leathers, and a nervous, excited jitter races through me. He’s less than a foot away from me and his heat warms the blankets immediately. This might be the first night I don’t wake up with frozen toes, which is nice to think about. I wonder if I should snuggle closer, or if that will be misinterpreted? I’m torn, because I love to cuddle, but I don’t know how he’ll take it.
Or how my cootie will take it. Darn thing’s already singing an opera right between my boobs.
The big blue alien puts an arm behind his head and gazes up at the ceiling. There’s a long, awkward pause and it occurs to me that neither of us knows what to say. Then Zolaya breaks the silence. “You made a friend.”
I nod, turning over on my side to face him. It feels a little more intimate, but I kind of like it. If I was braver, I’d slide under his arm and tuck my head against his chest because he looks like he’d be an awesome cuddler. But I’m not quite there yet. “Her name’s Marlene. She’s French. And she’s really nice. She’s going to show me how to sew a bra.” And now I sound like a toddler telling him about my day. I bite my tongue and force myself to shrug as if it’s all no big deal. “I’m sure she was just being friendly.”
“Mmm. Polite is not shoving someone’s face in the snow when they anger you.”
I sit up on one elbow, surprised to hear such words come out of my sweet Zolaya’s mouth. He’s never been anything but a perfect gentleman to me. “Whose face do you want to shove into the snow?”
“No one. It is not important.”
I frown down at him because that’s no answer and he knows it. “Is it me?”
Those glowing eyes focus on me. “Never.”
That one single word makes me feel intoxicated with his nearness, and when my cootie starts to purr again, I wonder how he’d react if I kissed him. He sure did notice when Marlene kissed my cheeks. I try to remember if I’ve seen others kiss in his tribe, and I don’t recall. Did Nora kiss her mate? Stacy? Marlene? I rack my brain, but it’s filled with thoughts of brushing my lips over Zolaya’s. What if he hates kissing? Some cultures find it abhorrent, and the thought makes me sad. What if my cootie’s paired me up with someone that doesn’t like kisses? What if I’m never kissed ever again? What if I end up alone on this ice planet, unloved and unkissed forever?
“I think you are worrying again,” Zolaya tells me softly.
I blink at him. It’s like he heard my thoughts. “What do you mean?”
One finger presses against my forehead, in the spot between my brows. “Because you squint when you are thinking too hard. Even in the darkness I can see that. It makes a wrinkle here.”
I push aside his finger and rub that spot. “You’re not supposed to tell a girl she’s wrinkled.”
“You are not wrinkled. You simply have a wrinkle there. And I would cherish you if you were as wrinkled as old Vadren.”
“I’m hoping for your sake that Vadren has a super-smooth face,” I tell him, but I’m secretly preening that he said he’d cherish me. “Cherish” seems like a pretty fraught word for people who just met.
But he just chuckles again. “The khui would not choose a displeasing mate for me.”
Oooh, am I pleasing to him then? He’s been all about going slow and taking our time, and I wondered if he was as attracted to me as some of the others seem to be attracted to their mates. Marlene can’t take her eyes off of Zennek, and Nora practically flung herself at her guy the moment they resonated. Lately it seems that I’m purring a lot more when he’s around, though, and I can’t help but notice things about him, like the way he walks with such fluid grace, or the flutter of his long hair. The softness of his mouth combined with the hard planes of his face. The way he touches me all the time. I wonder how much is the cootie…and then I wonder if it matters. If mine’s feeding emotions to me, they feel very real.
And because I can’t stop thinking about kissing him, I ask, “So…tell me about your people’s customs, Zo.” I toss in his nickname oh-so casually, even though calling him that practically feels like a caress all its own.
“Our customs? Mm, we might be here a while. We have many, many customs. I imagine humans do, too. Are there specific ones you wish to know about?”
I consider for a moment. Do I launch right into things or beat around the bush? “I noticed when I grabbed your tail you were a little…surprised.”
There’s a long pause. “Tails are sensitive.” He sounds a little strained.
Oh man. I totally yanked his crank and didn’t even realize it. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Do not be sorry. I enjoyed it, even if it was surprising.” He blows out a little breath and sounds amused. “If my tail must be caressed, I am glad it was by you.”
“Does it feel good?”
This time, I can practically hear him swallow. “Yes.”
I’m fascinated, and my cootie’s purring as loud as his is. My fingers itch, and I’m dying to touch him, to close the gap between us and feel that hard, bare chest under my hand. “Have you…ever had your tail touched before?”
10
ARIANA
A long pause. “No.”
So he is a virgin. Instead of freaking me out, though, I find that fascinating. I’m going to be the first to touch him, to show him how good sex can be. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.
I also realize that I’ve just come to terms with the fact that he’s my mate and we’re going to have sex at some point. There’s no fighting it, I realize. I don’t have the physical or emotional energy for it. And Zolaya’s so handsome and pleasant that why would I want to fight it? That would be like fighting against a rainbow or a basket of kittens, and all the other wonderful things I can think of. Chocolate. Silk pajamas. A hot shower.
Well damn, now I really want a hot shower. I sigh.
“What is it?” There’s so much tension in his voice that it brings me instantly alert again. “You are disappointed that I am inexperienced?”
Oh dear. “No, not at all. I was just comparing you to something pleasant back on my world. Hot showers. That’s like, bathing yourself standing up, but it’s warm.”
“We have such a thing back at the home cave. I will take you there. It is in the center of the home cave and made hot by the ground underneath. Everyone enjoys it.”
“Like a hot tub? I am all about that.” I don’t even care that it’s not private. If I need to skinny dip to get a dunk, I’m totally going to do so. I lean closer to him and then decide to lay it all out on the table. “Do your people kiss, Zo?”
“I…do not know what this means.”
I chew on my lip, because now I really, really want to touch him. I curl my hand into a fist to stop myself. “Before I say more, I should let you know that in terms of experience, I have had my tail touched. In a sense.”
“So you have had a pleasure mate before,” he replies, and I can
’t tell if that’s a good response or a bad one. His normally expressive voice is neutral.
“Is that a bad thing? Are you disappointed?”
“Did you have feelings for this male? Is he here?”
Did I say it was just one? I should probably clarify before things spiral out of control. Not that I was a huge college ho, but I did have a couple of hook-ups. “Uh, it was more than one male but no, no feelings for any of them. I haven’t had a pleasure mate in over a year. Just haven’t had time and didn’t find anyone I liked.”
In the dark, he reaches up and caresses my cheek, and the little touch is as thrilling as it is unexpected. “Pleasure mates are not a bad thing, Air-ee. It is just finding comfort in another’s arms for a few nights. As long as your heart is not there, I am content.”
He really is the best guy. How did I get so lucky? I’m so filled with pleasure at the realization that my sexual history isn’t going to be a problem despite our cultural differences that I feel like I can breathe easier.
And having all the sexual experience in this room fills me with a curious sense of boldness I normally don’t have. I can’t hold off any longer. I’m dying to kiss him. I lean forward and brush my fingers over his mouth, finding it in the dark. “So, do you want me to show you how a kiss works?”
He pauses for so long that I wonder if he's going to refuse. Finally, Zolaya says, "Only if you wish to."
Is he worried about pressuring me? That's sweet but unnecessary. "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have suggested it. But thank you for checking."
He clasps my hand in his as I reach toward his neck, pausing me mid-lean. "How is your avalanche?"
My avalanche? It takes me a moment to realize he means my anxiety. Oh. "It's better. You helped me a lot today."
"I am glad."
"It…won't ever go away, though. It's something I have to fight with on a regular basis." I hope he doesn't think it's a one-and-done sort of scenario.
"Then we will work on it on a regular basis," he says agreeably. "I will get you as much tea as you need."
"The talking helps, too. Just having another person to listen and not tell me I'm overreacting is just as necessary in some ways."
"I am always ready to listen." And his thumb skates over my palm. It's the lightest of caresses, but I swear I feel it right between my thighs. I suck in a breath, my body tingling with awareness at how close he is and how very “alone” we are for the first time since I got here. That really does change things. "I don't know if I'm ready to have sex, Zolaya, but…I'd really like to kiss you."
"Then kiss me," he murmurs. "And I will kiss you, too."
I want to tease him that it's usually a two-person sort of act, but I'd rather just get on to the kissing. I lean in over him and pull my hand out of his grip. This time, he lets go and remains still, watching me. I slide my hand to the back of his neck and move down so our mouths are aligned. "It starts with just a brush of the lips over the other person's mouth," I tell him softly, and then demonstrate.
Even with just the barest contact, I can tell I want more. His lips under mine are warm and slightly parted, and I love the hitch of his breath as I brush my mouth over his. I do it once, quickly, then lift my head to see his reaction. He's still watching me, utterly still, so I move in and give him another quick kiss.
"What do you think?" I ask when he doesn't respond.
"Pleasant," he murmurs, and his cootie seems to be vibrating hard in his chest, just like mine. "Do I do so to you now?"
"Actually I'm just getting started," I tell him, smiling. "There are all kinds of kisses. Light kisses." I lean in and gently brush my mouth over his again. "Nipping kisses." I bite at his lower lip and give it a tug. That gets a jerk of response from him and a low groan. "And my favorite are tongue kisses."
"Tongue…kisses?" His breath sounds raspy and his eyes are half-hooded, the glow dimmed slightly. "Tell me more."
"Easier if I show you," I whisper, and put my thumb on his chin, guiding his mouth to mine once more. This time when I brush my lips over his, I flick my tongue against his parted mouth. He groans again, and I slick the tip against his tongue, teasing and playing in a way that makes me feel bold and aroused all at once. God, kissing him is so much fun. I lick gently at his mouth, deepening the kiss, and when he responds, his tongue drags against mine.
And this time it's my turn to gasp, because his tongue has the same fascinating ridges that the rest of him does. What the hell? I'm both fascinated and aroused by this new turn, and I stop teasing and begin to kiss him in earnest. My hand goes to his cheek and my mouth descends on his, and then his hand is in my hair and our tongues are tangling in a mating dance that makes me clench deep inside with how good it is. Oh god, is it good. I'm lost in the way he tastes, the sultry rasp of that ridged tongue against mine, the low groans he makes in his throat as we kiss—
And the ever-present throb of my cootie in my chest, telling me that it approves of what we're doing.
The kiss goes on forever, and the longer it goes on, the less control I have. As our tongues stroke and dance together, Zolaya grows bolder in his responses. I might have instigated things, but he's a quick learner and it doesn't take long before he's the one in charge, his tongue flicking against mine and delving into my mouth with such enthusiasm that I'm breathless and aroused. I rub up against his body as we kiss, and when his knee presses between my thighs, I straddle it and don't even care that I'm grinding against him. All I know is that it feels incredible and I don't want to stop.
Eventually, though, we pull apart and then gaze at each other. I'm gasping for breath, my mouth feeling swollen and bruised and so, so yummy. He looks as dazed as I feel, and our cooties are so loud with their shared vibration it feels as if the entire ship is shaking. "I can smell your arousal, my mate," Zolaya tells me, his hand sliding along my side and then moving down to cup my butt through my leathers. "Even though you wear so many layers, I can smell how much you like my mouth on yours, my tongue mating in your mouth."
My thighs clench in response, and I bite back a moan. "I…don't know if you should be telling me that sort of thing," I say, and my voice is more prim than I want it to be. What girl wants to be told that a guy can smell her pussy?
"It makes me want to put my mouth there," he groans, fisting his hand in my hair. He begins to frantically kiss along my neck and jaw, rolling our twined bodies backward until I'm underneath him in the furs. "Lick up your taste, revel in how good you smell."
"Oh," I breathe, because okay, he's making that sound pretty damn good. I rock my hips, an involuntary response to his words. "Zolaya—"
"I like it when you say my name," he murmurs. "Almost as much as I like your scent." He buries his face against my neck and licks the sensitive skin of my throat, and I moan, clinging to him because it feels so good. "And almost as much as I like kisses," he tells me.
Right. Kisses. That's all we're supposed to be doing. I'm panting and everything in me is screaming to shuck my leather clothes off and let him take me as his mate, but I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. My anxiety is starting to trip, and I can feel a little shudder move through me that has nothing to do with lust. "All we're doing is kisses, right?" I hate the nervous sound of my voice. I want so much to sound confident, but I just don't.
Zolaya hears it, though. He drags his tongue against my neck, sending shivers through me. "Nothing but kisses," he reassures me.
Just to clarify… "And those kisses are above the neck, right?"
He chuckles and squeezes my butt. "The sa-khui have a saying—there is no sweeter taste than a resonance mate's cunt on one's tongue."
Jesus, that's an awfully blunt saying. "Oh."
"But I will wait until you are ready for my tongue." He leans in and brushes his lips over mine in the softest of caresses and I feel like I'm melting against him.
"I like your tongue," I say dreamily, my arms going around his neck once more. "I just want to take things slow."
"T
hen my tongue will stay near yours." He rubs my butt even as he pulls me closer against him, and I'm fitted along his long, lean body. He's incredibly warm and feels so good to press up against. I don't even mind the hard plating on the front of his chest and along his shoulders, because the rest of him is just so snuggle-able. I move my fingers along the inside of his arm, fascinated at the velvet feel of his skin, and his tail flicks against my leg. I pause. "Should I stop touching you?"
"Never," he tells me, voice thick. "But I wish to kiss you again when you do that."
"You can kiss me."
He tugs on my hair and then his mouth is on mine once more, and I forget all about the world around us. Nothing matters but the sweet taste of Zolaya's lips against mine, and the erotic slide of his ridged tongue.
No wonder everyone's so eager for resonance.
11
ZOLAYA
I hold my gentle Air-ee close as she sleeps, fascinated with her presence in my arms. I never thought it would feel so good to hold a female against me, to feel her breath tickle my skin, the gentle weight of her legs entwined with mine. She does not mind my hands on her body, and if I was a less possessive male, perhaps I would give her more room to sleep, but I cannot stop touching her. I cannot stop stroking her back through her leathers, or caressing the rounded curve of her bottom, and the blank, flat spot where a tail should be. I love how she is made. Love her smooth, slick little tongue as it plays against mine when we kiss. I even love her flat face with its strange features and the nose that is so small one must blink to see it. She does not look sa-khui at all…but it does not mean she is not beautiful to me. I think of Air-ee's appearance and how she looks compared to the others. She is not as sturdy as some, or her skin as attractively dark. Her mane is a strange shade of brown I have only seen in mud. But I would not change a thing about her.
I even love that she drools on me while she sleeps, because it tells me that she is at rest and her avalanche is not troubling her in her sleep. I stroke her back as she dozes and think on what she said. The mind-avalanche will not go away for good. She must constantly struggle with it. I know that some in the tribe have struggled with sadness for long periods of time. Sometimes it goes away. Sometimes it does not. I think of Asha, who used to be flirty and fun, and is now just bitter and angry after the death of her kit. Her mate, Hemalo, does not know how to help her.