by Ruby Dixon
I have so many things I need to say to her, but the pressure in my head is making it difficult to think. I am tired, and she is nearby and safe. Nothing else matters. Her small hands grip my larger one, and I hold her tight. As long as I can feel my mate’s hands on me, I can relax. She is safe.
I tumble back into sleep.
I sleep fitfully, half-awake and half in dreams. My Li-lah is always there, her touch comforting, but there are things that do not seem right. It is hot, and I sweat so much that I want to pull off my clothing, but I dare not. It could be fever tricking me. I do not smell smoke, which means there is no fire, yet I constantly thirst and can feel my mane is soaked. Li-lah gives me water and cool, tart things to eat, and insists I sleep more. That she is watching over me, and I am safe. There is food and water and we are protected from the cold. There is nothing to worry over.
And I am proud of her, because my mate is smart and clever. So proud. No male could ask for a better mate than mine. Or more lovely. Or more pleasant, or kind. Truly, I am the luckiest of the sa-khui to have my Li-lah, and she fills my dreams with her smiles and her soft skin. When she feeds me sweet, juicy things, I imagine it is her cunt, and I always crave more.
After several sleeps, I wake up to find that my head does not fill with pain when I open my eyes, and that the ache behind my brow is dull instead of piercing. I slowly sit up, squinting as I look around. My Li-lah is curled up next to me, my tail in her hand. We have no furs, and she is stripped down to the barest layer of her clothing. She wears only a small band of leather around her teats, and a short skirt covering her hips. Much of her pale skin is exposed, and my cock responds to the sight. I trail my fingers down her arm, then pull back when I remember that she does not want that, not until she decides if she will heed her khui.
Her eyes open at my touch, and a smile curves her mouth. The sight of her fills me with warmth. How is your head? she signs, sitting up.
Better. Are you hurt? I think of the rumbling snow, the aching, awful sensation I had in my ‘feeling’ that told me she was in danger. I grab her and pull her against my chest, stroking her hair. My relief that she is safe - that her small, fragile human body is whole - overwhelms me.
Her hand pats my arm. “Rokan, I’m okay. Really. Let me go.”
Reluctantly, I do so. I want to hold her for days and know she is safe in my arms.
She does not pull away, though. Instead, her hands go to my head and she tugs at a wrap. She pulls it free of my sweaty hair and then a strange scent fills the air. “Looks better,” she murmurs to herself, even as her teats press in front of my face and it takes all of my power not to pull the band of leather down her front and bury my face in the valley there.
Li-lah brushes her fingers over a spot on my head and I wince, because it’s sensitive there. I touch it myself, and when I pull away, my hand is covered in green sludge. What is this? I sniff it and the odd scent is coming from this.
“Don’t eat that,” she warns quickly, grabbing my wrist. “You do not want to know where it came from.”
As if I would eat this? It smells terrible. I give a small shake of my head and wipe my hand on my tunic, frowning.
How do you feel?
Hot. Sweaty. I want to bathe.
Good luck getting to the water, she signs back with a grin. It’s a bit of a climb. That might have to wait a few days until you’re steady on your feet.
Her words are strange, and I study my surroundings for the first time since waking. The colors are still here. I was not sure if they were part of my dream, but the green that overflows from the cave walls is not fading now that I am awake. What is this place?
It’s a garden, she says. I have so much to tell you! Li-lah reaches forward to cup my face, radiating happiness. Her smile does not fade, and in the next moment, she presses her mouth to mine. Hot, sweet lips brush over mine and then her tongue dips into my eager, waiting mouth. The taste of her is sweet, and I hold tightly on to her as she kisses me. I have missed this.
My khui rumbles agreement in my chest, and the need to possess her grows with each breath. Our kiss grows more intense with every moment that passes. I let her flick her tongue against mine, but when she goes to pull away, I hold her close and suck on her lower lip until she is moaning, her teats rubbing against my chest, her hands buried in my sweaty hair.
Does this mean she will take me as her mate now? Her little tongue is as eager for me as I am for her, and I can smell the hot scent of her need amongst the fragrance of the plants. If she will let me, I will lay her down here in this cave and make her mine. My breechcloth feels tight at the thought of pushing deep inside her, and I break the kiss and close my eyes, afraid I will lose control.
Her soft little moan in my ear makes me break into a sweat. “Oh, Rokan. I thought I lost you.”
I pull back and study her face. I see no fear or anger there, only need. Even though it pains me to release her, I need my hands to speak. I am yours. I will always be by your side.
To my horror, her eyes well with tears. Yes, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t know what you meant when you said you weren’t feeling the weather. I should have listened. About everything.
I shake my head. You did not understand. Not many do.
But I’m your mate. I should understand. You’ve always done your best to understand me. I’m a jerk and I should have tried harder.
My mate? Fierce joy surges through me. I cup her face and stroke the tears from her cheeks, pressing a kiss to her soft mouth before signing again. You accept you are my mate?
I nearly lost you in the avalanche. It made me realize that I don’t care what makes me feel this way. I just love you and want to be with you. Do you still love me?
You always have my heart.
Her teary smile is beautiful. You have mine, too.
I want to make sure she understands what it means to accept me as her mate. My people mate for life, Li-lah. Resonance will bring us together for a kit, and we must stay together until it is created.
But not all stay together afterward. It is not common, but it has happened, and I think of Raahosh’s miserable parents, and of Asha and Hemalo. I will not wish her misery if she does not want to stay with me.
So I add, If you will not have me, I will not force you to stay.
She shakes her head fiercely. I’m not sure I’m ready for a baby, but I do know that I’m not losing you. If there’s a baby, we’ll be parents together. I love you. And next time you have a bad feeling about the weather, make me listen to you.
Her words warm me. Then let us mate. I will make you mine now.
She giggles and shakes her head, looking amused at my suggestion. Now is not the time. You still need to rest and get your strength back. Plus, your head is covered in someone else’s chewed goop.
I touch my head, even as she puts a leather bandage back over my wound. I wait patiently until she is done, and then ask. Someone else? Who is here?
Long story. She puts a hand on my shoulder. One that can be told later. You should rest.
I sign to her, I am not tired. I would rather touch my mate.
Her eyes gleam at that and her hand slides from my shoulder to my chest, slowly. Very slowly. Maybe you let your mate touch you? That enticing hand leaves my belly, and I almost groan aloud with disappointment. She presses her hand on my shoulder again. Lie back down.
Let my mate touch me? The idea fills me with pleasure, and yet pleasing her is one of my greatest joys. If you will not let me touch you now, I will touch you double when it is my turn.
That sounds like a deal to me. Now are you going to lie back?
I do so, and her fingers tug at the laces of my tunic. I am suddenly eager to remove it - not only because it is sweaty, but because I want her hands on me. It does not matter that this strange cave is stiflingly hot, because my Li-lah is wearing very little, and when she touches me, I feel her bare skin rub against mine.
I suddenly do not mind the heat at all.
&
nbsp; She finishes with the laces on my chest and then tugs at my tunic. I lift my arms so she can help me take it off, and just that small motion makes me tired. Perhaps she is right and I need to rest for longer. I do not like being so weak, I tell her.
I am here, she signs to me. I will take care of you. There’s a naughty gleam in her eyes as she gives me the hand-speak, and then her fingers go to my belt.
I lie back again, watching her as she undoes my belt and then loosens my breechcloth. One hand strays up my belly, her fingers tracing the outline of my muscles, and my cock jerks in response. That small movement does not escape her notice, and as I watch, her gaze moves lower, and she peels back my breechcloth to reveal my cock, hard and aching, the head covered with thick droplets of seed.
She makes a pleased sound in her throat that makes my tail twitch, then looks up at me. The look in her eyes is as hot as the air around us, and as I watch, her hand curls around the length of my cock.
The breath hisses from between my teeth. I cannot look away as she drags her fingers up and down my length, feeling the ridges and learning the texture. Her fingers trace a large vein along my shaft, and then she lowers, and her mouth slicks against my cock-head.
My hands flex, helpless. I want to grab a handful of her silky mane and rub her face along my cock. I want to pull her away and kiss that soft, slick mouth. I want her to take me into her mouth in the shocking way she is suggesting.
I am full of want.
“I’ve never done this before,” she murmurs, glancing up at me. “So tap me on the shoulder if I do something you don’t like, all right?”
Do something I will not like? Impossible. But I force myself to nod, my gaze locked on her. I could not look away if sky-claws descended in the next moment. My gaze is on Li-lah and only Li-lah as she drags her teasing fingers over my length again, her mouth hovering ever closer.
Then, she licks a bead of wetness off the tip of my cock, and I feel that small graze of her tongue all the way through my body. “You taste nice,” she whispers, and her breath skitters over my sensitive skin. “I might have to do this more often.”
My groan of need is swallowed as her lips close over the head of my cock. I watch as she pulls me deeper into her mouth, her tongue dragging along my length. I have never felt anything so good. I want to touch her, to bury my hands in her hair, but I also do not want to distract her from her task. Not when she is licking and sucking on every bit of my cock.
My khui is thrumming loudly, its song matching hers, and I can feel the gentle vibrations of it through her mouth and her tongue as she sucks on my length. Her fingers tease at my spur, exploring it even as she licks my length.
I have to close my eyes. If I do not, I will spill right into her mouth and on that lovely pink tongue that is even now tracing teasing circles on the head of my cock. I picture that and am nearly undone. I clench my fists and press one to my forehead, forcing myself not to touch her. Let her work her mouth over my cock, and I shall gladly endure all that she will offer to me.
But my mate is tricky. I am so focused on her mouth dragging over my length that I am not paying attention to her hands. She takes the end of my tail, and before I can realize what she is doing, she strokes it with her fingers, just like she has stroked my spur.
My eyes fly open. I watch as she lifts her mouth from my cock to lick the end of my tail.
And it is just as sensitive as my spur. My entire body jerks in response. I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, to warn her to pull away because I am about to lose control.
Li-lah looks up at me, and when I give a small shake of my head and begin to gesture, the look on her face grows naughty. Her mouth descends on my cock again and she sucks, hard.
And I come. All over her tongue and her lips, in her hot, sucking mouth. It is stunning. The breath has been stolen from my lungs, just as my heart has been stolen from my chest.
I am not worthy of such a perfect mate.
18
LILA
Even though Rokan seems to be doing better, I make him ‘relax’ in the garden cave for an extra two days. At least, that’s the idea. He needs to rest and rebuild his strength. I’m not entirely sure the man knows how to relax, actually. I try to tire him out with blow-jobs (which, okay, are a lot more fun than I expected), back-rubs, and naps. He does his best to try and help out - building me new snowshoes out of some of the thicker, reedier dead vines, re-stitching torn leathers, and even climbing down to the pool of water below our cozy ledge so he can bathe.
His inability to stay in bed is driving me crazy, but I suppose he can’t help it. I’m the same way. There’s no need for a fire here in this cave - it’s too humid and warm. It reminds me a bit of a sauna, which is pretty darn nice in my opinion, even if Rokan complains about the heat. I guess it’s more ‘human’ temperature than sa-khui. Since there’s no fire, there’s no need to melt water, and the vines have provided plenty of food for us. There are all kinds of fruits and melons, and a few tuberous looking plants that taste starchy and awful raw, but will probably be pretty good cooked. Rokan likes the fruit but is puzzled by it; he’s never had it before. It makes me wonder about this little cave. If these plants aren’t familiar to him, did they come on the space ship with his ancestors and spilled from the broken part of the ship wedged into the ice and stone above us? Is that why they only grow here? Or is it that this fissure just happens to be warm enough to allow these plants to flourish when everything is icy outside? Either way, they add a bit of variety to our diet, and I’m careful to ration it out, saving the seeds when I can.
My one-eyed friend hasn’t returned. I can’t say I’m sad, because I think of his possessive gestures toward me, and his constant attempts to get me to ditch Rokan. But he did save my mate, so I’m still grateful. I want to leave enough fruit for him, too, in case he comes back. Rokan doesn’t believe me at first when I say the creature - a metlak, he calls it - signed to me. He doesn’t think they’re intelligent. Maybe they’re not at our level, but it’s clear that the yeti knew a lot more than Rokan gives him credit for. I don’t argue the point, though. I’m kind of hoping the yeti doesn’t show up ever again. Maybe he’ll go home and find a nice Mrs. Yeti to fulfill his furry dreams. I’m just not the girl for him.
On day three of our stay in the garden cave, Rokan’s head no longer hurts him, and it’s time to go back to the Elders’ Cave. I’m a little torn - our cave here is so pretty and warm, and I love the fruit. But Rokan is uncomfortably hot, and all of our things are still at the Elders’ Cave. Plus, the ledges here are narrow, which means it’s difficult for me to sleep next to Rokan without fear of someone rolling off the ledge and into the pool far below.
And it’s clear to me that Rokan is very eager for us to have sex. And the Elders’ Cave seems like the best place for that, with our nice, clean furs, a toasty fire, and lots of room to roll around.
Okay, I’m pretty eager for that, too, I admit. We’ve done a lot of playing around and I’ve explored every inch of Rokan with my mouth over the last few days because he’s been ‘recovering’ but I’m eager to become his in all ways. We’ll return to the Elders’ Cave for a day or two, gather our things, and then head to the tribal cave to meet back up with the rest of the group.
For some reason, I’m nervous about that.
If Rokan senses my nervousness, he doesn’t comment on it. He helps me dress to go back out in the snow, shaking his head over my wet braids, which are sure to ice up, or my furs, which are probably going to do the same after being in the damp heat of the cave for several days. He scowls when he finds that I’ve loaded my pack down with fresh fruit from the laden vines, declaring it to be too heavy for my ‘small human body’ to carry, and shoulders it himself. Then, he holds my new, flimsy snowshoes while we climb carefully out of the cave and back into the blast of wintry chill that is the valley outside. There’s a herd of pony-type creatures nearby, but we have no spears, only our bone knives. They will wait for another time, Rok
an tells me.
Then, we get to the valley floor and I put on my snowshoes. Rokan secures the hood of my cloak, fussing over me, and then frowns down at my face. You look unhappy. What troubles you, my mate?
I’m just thinking.
About?
The future? What happens next for us? I’ve spent so long thinking one day ahead that it’s weird to stop and realize that I don’t have a big plan for what comes next.
He leans down to press a kiss to my forehead, then signs, We will get our gear at the Elders’ Cave and then I will put a kit in your belly. His eyes gleam hot at the thought.
The look he’s shooting me makes me all squirmy, even if his words are a little, well, blunt. Of course he’s focused on resonance and us coming together. I admit it’s eating up my thoughts, too, and all of my dreams have been rather filthy as of late. I mean when we go to your tribal cave, I tell him. I worry what it’s going to be like.
Everyone will be happy you are home and safe, he tells me. As for what it will be like, there will be a celebration with much singing and my father’s favorite sah sah. My brother Aehako will be very loud and boisterous, to the amusement of his mate. My mother will try to feed you all the time. And I will try to steal you away into my furs all the time. His tail curls around my leg, pressing against my thigh like a dirty promise. Though we will have to move out of my mother’s cave first.
I giggle at that. You still live at home with mom and dad? How old are you?
He shrugs. There is not much room in the caves. Hunters who are not mated live together. Private caves are saved for families.
Oh. I don’t know how I feel about that. I think of spending the next few years living in the back of someone else’s cave and a sinking feeling curls in my belly. Where do we fall?