by Octavia Kore
All four of the tahi’s eyes opened, and it stretched its body. Zaheer said this was a baby, likely no more than a few days old. They were an orphan, and if they hadn’t been swept into Clara’s hair by the water, they could have drowned or easily been eaten by something larger. A grin spread across her face as she watched River clumsily climb her crossed legs. The name had come to her on their walk back to what her alien had called the outpost. Aside from being the place where she’d found her little tahi, River was the name of one of the characters from her favorite TV show.
“Lucky for you, these guys seem to put webs everywhere.” It wasn’t an exaggeration either. Not only were the woven baskets covered in them, but even the pouch filled with herbs from the seer they’d met was made up of dried webbing. She wondered what else these aliens used it for. He also spoke of a tribe, but she got the impression that he didn’t exactly feel like he was a part of it. Zaheer and these other guardians had been given into service so young, and while Clara’s life hadn’t been idle or wonderful by any standards, she couldn’t imagine what it had been like for them to have been separated from their families and isolated.
Vibrations along the floor beneath her caught Clara’s attention. It was something she’d come to associate with someone’s arrival and when a dark shadow fell across the barrier, her heart raced.
“Zaheer?”
The male who stepped through the barrier paused at the sound of her alien’s name and shook his head. The red and teal stripes practically glowed against the black fur that covered his body. Although he wasn’t the alien she’d been looking forward to seeing, he wasn’t an unwelcome visitor. He’d been the first one to communicate with her, breaking Zaheer’s rule. The memory of his face when she caught him made Clara smile. He looked around the room as if he were searching for someone or something.
“Are you looking for Zaheer?” The male’s jaw tightened before he nodded. Clara was sure he was still under the impression that she couldn’t understand him, or maybe he was just afraid of breaking Zaheer’s rule again. “He’s out at the moment.”
Maylu opened his mouth as if to say something before thinking better of it. His upper arm lifted, and he tapped one of his long fingers to the outside of his ear, shaking his head while using one of his other arms to point in her direction.
Clara blinked in surprise, reaching up to touch the lobe of one of her ears. “You know I can’t hear?” Maylu nodded. “Figured that out all on your own, huh?”
The male pointed at the baskets stacked along the wall, but Clara shook her head, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. The tuft around his neck puffed up as he frowned, and he moved across the small room, lifting the lid to one basket before pulling the knife out. She watched him drop it back inside a couple times before she understood what he meant.
“You dropped something and it made a noise?” she asked. Maylu nodded, pointing to his ears again and then at her before shaking his head. “Ah, you dropped something and I didn’t react to the noise?”
The male’s tails twisted behind, and he clapped his hands together as if to say she’d guessed it right. Clara appreciated that, out of the three aliens she’d met so far, this one was the only one who had tried to communicate with her, even though he’d been told not to. She understood Zaheer’s reasons and likely would have done the same to protect her friends, but it still frustrated her.
“It’s pretty clear you didn’t get the memo, but I can understand you now, so if you want to talk to me you can. I’ve even spoken to Ivnalth and Zaheer.”
Maylu frowned down at her and shifted from one foot to the other, his head eventually turning as he scanned the small room. Was he really so scared of Zaheer? A tug on the wrist of her suit drew Clara’s attention away from the huge male.
“Hey!” she grumbled aloud, startling River. The little Tahi’s eyes widened, but they continued nibbling on the already tattered cuff. These suits were supposed to be state of the art Grutex technology, but they didn’t seem to be able to withstand the webbing or the tiny tahi. Alien world: 2, Grutex tech: 0. “Don’t eat that, River. No.” Clara signed ‘no’ before scooping River into her hand and relocating them to her braid.
A set of warm hands on her arms made Clara jump. She looked up into Maylu’s face, but he was staring down at her scarred wrists, rotating them this way and that. He gestured toward them, his head tilting as he focused on her. Clearly, he wanted an explanation that she didn’t have.
“They showed up this morning when the webbing was cut off, but I don’t know why it burned me this time.”
The warmth of his breath moved over the skin on her arms when he sighed. “Who did this?” His voice rolled through her mind.
“Zaheer. He said it was an accident. I don’t know why or how it happened. Ivnalth’s webs never did this to me.”
“Did he tell you where he was going when he left?” Maylu released her arms.
“No, but I don’t think he was going far.” Clara brushed her fingers over River’s back as unease settled in her belly. “Did you need him for something important?”
“No.” A braided section of hair fell into his face when he shook his head. “I only came to ask him about something we spoke of yesterday, a promise he made. Our Alpha never breaks his promises.”
It was the second time she’d heard someone refer to Zaheer as alpha and Clara made a note to ask him about it. She assumed this promise Maylu spoke of was the same one Zaheer told her about at the river. He was supposed to search for Tratek today. The problem was that the injured male had already been found, but Zaheer didn’t want anyone to know that their friend was currently recovering in Layla’s treehouse. Clara rolled her lips between her teeth and waited for the other male to say something, but he only continued to stare down at her marked wrists with a frown.
“Are these bad?” Clara touched the scarred skin. “Ivnalth got upset with Zaheer when she saw them, but neither one of them said why.” Maylu said nothing as he turned to look at the front of the treehouse. Was he afraid Zaheer would come charging in? Was he trying to avoid getting in trouble for speaking to her? Clara wished she could reassure him. “I mean, the two of you seem more upset than I was, and I’m the one who got burned.”
“Ivnalth fears the repercussions.”
“And what might those be?”
“That is something you should speak to your—” The colorful stripes above his main eyes drew together. “You should speak to Zaheer about that. I have other matters to tend to, but I’ll return later.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe.” Clara lifted her hand and waved, wiggling her fingers at him. Maylu narrowed his eyes at the gesture, awkwardly mirroring her movements before stepping through the barrier.
After plucking some of the remaining webbing from the baskets for River to eat, Clara and her new friend curled up on the blankets. Both of her hands throbbed after a week of unraveling webbing and rope making, and the tahi was a welcome distraction. When the hatchling’s eyes began to shutter, Clara turned a basket on its side, wedging it between two more, and laid one of the smaller blankets inside as a makeshift nest for River. With a surprisingly big yawn for such a tiny creature, River did a little spin before settling down and falling fast asleep.
The light outside the treehouse was already fading by the time Clara decided that staring at the entrance wasn’t going to bring Zaheer back any faster. She’d had an exhausting day, and her conversation with Maylu had only given her more questions. The frayed cuffs of the suit brushed uncomfortably over the skin on her wrists, and Clara huffed as dried sections broke off between her fingers. Wonderful.
The damage caused by the web and River’s tiny teeth seemed to be slowly spreading. If this kept up, Clara was going to be forced to wear nothing but her birthday suit soon. With a resigned sigh, Clara commanded her suit down, hoping that would help stop or at least slow the spread of the damage. Zaheer had called the tahi pests, and the thought of waking up to find River had eaten through
the only garment she had would have been awful.
It felt strangely liberating to be without it. Clara curled up in her little nest, wrapping one of her favorite blankets around her body. An unexpected pang of disappointment pierced Clara’s chest, and she rubbed at the spot between her breasts. Despite everything they’d been through in the last couple of days, her captor still seemed to prefer spending much of his time away from her.
Can you blame him? After what he’d told her about the priests and the decisions he’d been forced to make at such a young age, it didn’t really come as a shock. As her eyes grew heavier, Clara stopped resisting and gave into her exhaustion.
Clara moaned at the sensation of firm hands roaming her body. Goosebumps broke out along her skin, and she shivered, gasping as soft lips were pressed against her neck. A pair of hands traveled up and down her hips as her nipples pebbled, and a moment later another hand skimmed over the inside of one thigh, urging her legs apart as the warmth of a large body filled the space between them, and his tails wrapped around her ankles.
The lips that had been at her neck moved downward, stopping to brush over the peaks of her breasts. Warm breath caressed her belly as the mouth moved lower, and when a tongue swirled around her navel, Clara’s entire body trembled with the force of her desire. She reached out, burying her fingers in the soft, short strands of hair on the male’s head, cradling him to her. This was either the best dream she’d had in a long time, or it was the hottest way she’d ever been woken up.
Either way, she didn’t want him to stop.
His lips moved against her, the words he spoke aloud vibrating along her skin. Digging her fingers into his hair, Clara arched up, moving against his mouth. She tried in vain to squeeze her thighs together, seeking relief for the throbbing that originated from between her legs. If he’d move just a little lower, Clara was sure the heat of his mouth alone would be enough to make her come. The hands and fingers that clutched at her breasts and tugged at her nipples were unpracticed, but it didn’t detract from the pleasure they were wringing from her.
“You’re mine, Aanih,” the growl echoed in the depths of her mind, sending a shiver of pleasure all the way down her spine and into the very tips of her toes.
That voice, his voice. It lifted her from the depths of her dreams. Clara’s eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head to look down her body at her alien as his tongue trailed across the soft swell of her lower stomach. “Zaheer.” He glanced up at the sound of his name, and a lopsided grin tugged at the corner of that wicked mouth, the sight of which had warmth pooling low in her belly.
Despite the darkness of the small room they were in, Zaheer’s eyes were practically glowing. It was something she’d never seen before, and when Clara reached out to trail the tips of her fingers over his cheek, those dazzling black eyes shuttered. A quiet moment stretched between them as she watched shadows from the branches outside the treehouse play over his face. He was so handsome, so attractive in that entirely alien way she’d come to appreciate.
“What are you doing?” The moment the words were spoken, Clara wished she could take them back. Was it not painfully obvious what he was doing?
Zaheer palmed her breasts before his fingers curled around them, squeezing. “Claiming what belongs to us. Taking what you so freely offered.”
What she so freely offered? Was he referring to her nudity? “I don’t belong to anyone.” Even as the words travelled to him from her mind, Clara wasn’t sure she truly believed them. What he’d said made her want to spread her legs and give in to every desire he had. She ached for him to press his body forward so she could shamelessly rub herself against him, and when her breath shuddered out of her, Clara swore the glow in his eyes became more pronounced.
Zaheer took her hand and lifted it, pressing his lips to her scarred wrists. “You belong to us, Aanih. You have from the moment we scented you in the forest.”
A soft moan slipped from her lips as her empty cunt clenched, desperate to be filled at the possessiveness that dripped from his words. “You think this burn means I belong to you?”
“I don’t think it does, I know it does.” The ridges of his black tongue slid over her wrists, raising even more goosebumps.
Her breathing hitched at the sight of his head dipping, and she shuddered as the tip of his tongue made contact with her stomach, tracing a wet path through the line of peach fuzz that trailed from her belly button to the curls at the apex of her legs. He paused there, his eyes trained on hers.
“Those are mating marks on your wrists, Aanih. You. Are. Ours.” He punctuated his words with soft bites, the tips of his fangs pricking the skin just above where she wanted him to explore. The voice that came across the mental bond they shared was different somehow, a deeper timbre than the one she’d become accustomed to. It was as if it was a marriage of two separate voices, and the result was haunting and almost animalistic.
It resonated through her, leaving gnawing, clawing need in its wake.
A mating mark.
He’d done more than accidentally scar her. Zaheer had marked her.
Clara stilled, her body going rigid at the revelation. Sex for pleasure, for fun, was one thing she knew well, but this wasn’t that. There was something about knowing that these scars indicated his permanent claim on her that infuriated her, and yet it also spiked Clara’s desire to a shocking level. She should not be turned on at the mere sight of those scars. They shouldn’t make her body hum with desire or set off butterflies in her belly. The knowledge that any of his kind who saw these marks would know she was his, that they couldn’t have her, was surprisingly comforting.
The anger and indignation she’d first felt slipped through her fingers, no matter how firmly she clutched at them. They could argue about this later, because right now Clara wanted to let him do every wonderfully dirty thing she saw in his obsidian gaze.
Arching her back so that her pelvis brushed his chin, Clara caught her lip between her teeth and grinned. “Please, Zaheer.” Her legs fell open, and she pushed herself up, reclining on her elbows so she could watch as he moved down her body.
He wedged his shoulders between her thighs, and she shivered when she felt his fingers slide over the slick seam of her folds a moment before he spread them. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she was certain her entire body flushed from the way Zaheer was touching her.
“Look at me, Aanih.”
Her eyes met his, but the moment his tongue swept over her pussy, Clara’s head fell back. A sharp nip to her clit made her jump. Her head snapped forward and she stared at him, her mouth dropping open. He’d bitten her.
“I told you to look at me.” He ran his tongue over the nub, soothing the sting. Clara bucked against his mouth, digging her heels into the soft blankets beneath them as she struggled to keep her eyes fixed on his face. “Good female,” he cooed. “My sweet little mate.”
His breath fanned over her exposed flesh a moment before his open mouth latched onto the sensitive nub. The ridges of his tongue moved against her clit as Zaheer sucked her flesh into his mouth, tugging and nipping. His fangs threatened to pierce the delicate skin, and it only drove her need higher.
“Please.” Clara wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for. Her fingers tingled with the urge to dive into his hair and pull his face as close as she could. When one of his fingers dipped inside of her, Clara fought to keep her eyes open. “I need…” Another finger slipped in next to the first, and Clara’s hips lifted off the blankets. He explored her with his lower hands, while his upper hands continued to pluck and pinch her nipples. The pad of one of his fingers drifted over the pucker of her ass before pressing inside.
Clara felt the startled moan tear up her throat as she attempted to wriggle away, but all that did was push her further onto his finger. “Wait! Oh, God, Zaheer.” Anal wasn’t something she normally enjoyed, but the pressure from just that one digit was driving her mad. She wanted him to move, to thrust his finger into her ass the same way
he was thrusting into her cunt.
“We’ll have all of you, Aanih. My tsa.” He doubled his efforts on her clit, focusing on the bundle of nerves as he pumped into her, stretching her. “Your scent tells me you like this.”
Outed by my own scent, Clara thought, but in truth, the idea of him filling her with both of those glorious cocks of his had her pulsing around his fingers. Hell yes, she wanted that. She wanted him to have every single part of her, to possess her, and the way he praised her—the certainty in his voice when he’d told her he knew she wanted his finger there—made pride bloom in her chest.
Doubt crept into her mind when she felt him slide all the way inside. His finger was far smaller than either one of his cocks, and it had been so damn long. Her body tensed as her fear mounted, but Zaheer pulled a hand from her breast and swatted her ass.
“Look at me, Clara.”
Her eyes flew open, and she frowned down at him. When had she closed them? Her breasts swayed with the rise and fall of her chest, and Clara used his gaze to anchor herself. His upper hands were stroking up and down her sides, and she felt the tension slowly begin to fade.
“We will not hurt you, Clara. Allow us to give you pleasure. Let us please our tsa.”
Yes, she wanted that. She wanted to accept everything Zaheer wanted to give her. A few calming breaths later, Clara’s muscles relaxed and Zaheer’s upper hands moved back to her breasts, rolling her pebbled nipples between his fingers. Her alien was picking up quickly on what made her squirm, and soon enough she was gasping and grinding herself against Zaheer’s mouth as he sucked and nibbled on her clit. She gritted her teeth against the discomfort when he pressed a second finger to her ass and pushed inside, but her eyes remained on his as he stretched her.
When had it ever been like this with a man–or a woman for that matter? Half of the partners she’d had on Earth couldn’t be bothered to take half a moment to touch her where she wanted, but this alien male was learning her. Clara was so close to slipping over the edge, but every time she came within sight of it, Zaheer backed off, slowing the pumping of his hands or skirting the tip of his tongue around her clit. He was playing her like some sort of string instrument, plucking and playing until she wanted to slam her hands against the floor and demand he let her finish.