by Ruby Dixon
And stupid me starts weeping again. All the frustration seems to be seeping out of me in girly, wimpy tears. I hate that. I’m not a crier. That’s not who I am. I’m strong, damn it. I’m capable. I’m not…
Not like Lila. And Lila’s happy.
And that just makes me blubber even more.
“Mah-dee!” Hassen races to my side, running his hands over my arms and then touching my face. “You are cold. Why are you out here? Who is with you? Where is your spear?”
“I’m here by myself,” I say, swiping away the tears that keep freezing on my face. “I needed to talk to you.”
“With no weapon? Mah-dee, you must think before you leave the cave! It is not safe—”
“I know,” I cry out, swatting away his hands as he tries to cup my cheeks. “Okay? I know! I get it. I suck at taking care of myself. That’s not exactly headline news.” I dust away more of the tears that seem to keep coming.
He frowns down at me and puts a finger under my chin, tilting my head up. “Why do you cry? What is wrong?”
“Oh, you mean other than everything? Everything is wrong?”
“Why is everything wrong? You must tell me.” He rubs a knuckle along my jaw. “I do not like to see you cry.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like crying, either.”
Hassen tugs my coverings closer to my body, and then his breath hisses. “Mah-dee, this is wet—”
“Yes, I know! I’m shitty at surviving. I know this! I just…I had to escape before the guys noticed me again.”
He grabs me and hauls me into his arms, not in the romantic way that heroes carry fainting heroines, but like a mother carries her child. “I am taking you to the nearest hunter cave and we are going to get you something warm to wear, and then we are going to talk.”
“Okay,” I say in a sniffly, whiny voice. I put my arms around his neck and bury my face there, except when I do, I bang my forehead on one of his down-curling horns. Typical. Even Hassen’s trying to kill me.
We’re silent as he moves through the snow, heading unerringly for one particular cave that we tend to visit a lot. The walk seems like it takes forever, and by the time we get to the cave, I’m trembling with cold, the furs I’m wrapped in feel soaked, and I’m miserable all around. He ducks into the cave, shoving aside the screen over the entrance, and then gently sets me down. He rubs my arms and legs with his big, warm hands, stripping off my wet furs. The look on his face is full of anger, though, so I don’t thank him. I don’t think he’ll appreciate it. He grabs one of the bundled furs and cuts the ties with his knife, then flings it around me.
I know I’m in the doghouse when he then moves to the fire pit and begins to make a fire. If I’m cold enough to warrant a fire and then we have to replenish the fire-making supplies, I’m so going to get an earful from him.
“I’m sorry,” I begin, but he shoots me an irritated look that makes me go silent again. Okay, if he’s not in a talky mood, I’ll just sit here and shiver. I clutch the blankets closer and feel pretty sorry for myself at the entire situation.
It takes a few minutes before the fire catches, but eventually there’s a little flame going and Hassen scoops me up and drops me next to the fire like I’m a child. He adjusts the furs wrapped around me, tucking my feet under them, and then rests on his haunches, pausing to glare at me. “Why are you out in wet furs? Explain.”
“I told you.” I shift on the floor, a little uncomfortable at his angry scrutiny. “I had to sneak out when no one was paying attention.”
“Are the others back? I thought I saw their tracks.” His expression darkens. “Are they being cruel to you?”
“Only if you count trying to smother me with gifts and attention cruel, I guess.” I wiggle my bare toes and dig them into the furry underside of the blankets, because, okay, it does feel much better than my snow-wet boots.
“Gifts? Attention?” As I watch, his mouth draws into a scowl. “Who is giving you gifts? Bek?”
“Not him.” I shake my head. “Vaza gave me some tea, and every time I turn around, Harrec’s trying to feed me, and Taushen’s trying to be my new best friend. I mean—”
He growls.
I’m so startled by the sound that I stop talking. He actually growled. Just like a rabid dog…or a bear. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he snarls at me. “Any others?”
“Any others what?”
“Any others courting you?”
“Fuck, I sure hope not.” The thought makes me miserable. “I can barely sneak away as it is.”
“No more sneaking,” he tells me, tucking the furs closer. “It is clear that you cannot take care of yourself.”
For some reason, that really hurts. I burst into fresh tears. “You asshole. N-n-now you s-s-sound like Lila.”
He snorts and takes one of my cold hands and grips it in his, rubbing it to warm it. “Your sister has learned how to set a snare and build a fire. That is all. Do not let her words tear you down.”
Actually, my sister never said those things. Lila is too sweet and kind. She would never willingly harm me. And so now I feel worse because I’m making Hassen think bad things about her. “She is my sister. She’s just trying to look out for me because she wants me to be happy,” I sigh. “And I’m not happy because I don’t fit in.”
Though I don’t point out that I’ve been happy in the week that she’s been gone, because it makes me feel worse. I don’t want to think that I can’t be happy around her. I need my sister in my life. I love her. I’m just not sure we’re on the same page anymore.
When we first crashed here, I didn’t panic too much, because I had Lila. I had to be strong for her. Now Lila doesn’t need me, and the overwhelming feeling of losing everything is starting to mess with my mind. Now that she’s back, I feel like I’m losing Hassen, too. I stare at him, hurting. This might be the last chance I have for a while to be alone with him.
I can’t waste a minute.
I fling myself forward, grabbing at his vest. “Let’s have sex.”
“What?” He stares at me, incredulous.
“Right now. I want you.” I push him backward, straddling his hips. I run a hand down his chest, desperation mixing with lust. I forget all about being cold, about being miserable, about my sister. All I want is this moment with him. I want him inside me, pushing deep, and making me think about nothing but him and pleasure.
Hassen hesitates for a brief moment, and then he grabs me by the hips, flipping us over. He claims my mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue a searing bolt as it spears into my mouth. I cling to him, whimpering as his hands rip at my leggings. I tear at his, too, because I need his skin against mine. I need his body.
I need him.
His fingers push between my thighs, and when he finds me dry, begins to rub a slick, slow path up and down through my folds. Oh, god, yeah. It’s amazing how he knows just what I need. I wrap an arm around his neck and kiss him with even more intensity, wanting to show him how good he makes me feel. I run my hands along his shoulders and down his spine, and when his tail flicks against my hand, I grab it the next time it comes close and give the underside a rub.
He hisses, and it’s like I’ve uncaged a wild animal. He’s ferocious with hunger, and his fingers press into me, thrusting hard. I gasp and twist my hands in his hair, not sure if I’m stopping him or egging him on. All I know is that we need to come together before we both explode.
Then his weight is shifting on top of me, and he’s pushing my thighs further apart. It’s stretching the seams of my leggings, but I don’t give a fuck. I need him. I ignore the soft tearing sound of the leather bunched at my knees and kick at it. “Get these off me,” I tell him. “I want to wrap my legs around you when you fuck me.”
Hassen breathes my name, and his hand leaves my pussy—damn it—to help me get the rest of my leggings off. Then he’s surging over me and I feel his cock press against my core.
“Yes,” I tell him. Oh, yes.
He’s not done torturing me, though. He slicks the head of it through my juices, then drags it up and down my folds, like his fingers were doing just a moment ago. I’m practically coming off the floor, it feels so amazing. All this because I touched his tail? I need to do it again. I reach for the wildly flicking appendage, and when I manage to snag it, he thrusts into me, and his spur settles against my clit. Oh, fuck. He doesn’t play fair.
“Your cunt is so tight, Mah-dee,” he tells me, rubbing his nose against my cheek as he slowly pushes deeper. “It is where I belong, is it not? Deep inside you?”
Dirty talk. Dear lord. I’m helpless before it. I cling to his tail, my other hand scratching up and down his side, looking for purchase. I want to touch him everywhere and make him feel as crazy as he’s making me feel, but all I can do is wrap my legs around his thighs and clutch at his tail like a loon.
He thrusts into me, and my entire lower half lights up. It’s the combination of big, ribbed dick and spur that does it to me every time. By his third thrust, I’m clenching up around him and lights are flashing behind my eyes. By the time number six rolls around, I’ve gone over the edge, lost to the immediate and violent orgasm ripping through me. Of course, Hassen never thrusts just six or seven times. He goes a lot longer—sometimes I think it’s just to see if he can kill me with his dick. At least, that’s what it feels like—death by delicious orgasm. He covers me with his body, and I feel his bumpy forehead press to mine as he strokes into me, over and over again. Then he’s coming, and I can feel the heat of his spend wash over my insides. He shouts my name as he comes, and I feel a ridiculously girly sort of pleasure hearing that, even as I come all over again.
Hassen rolls onto his back, and instead of moving off of me, he holds me in place, and then I’m lying on top of him, his cock still deep inside me. Our bodies are slick where they’re joined, and I can feel his come on the inside of my thighs. He holds me close, though, panting, and gently brushes the hair off my brow. The look on his face is pure contentment, and for a moment my heart squeezes and I wish he wasn’t the asshole that kidnapped my sister. I wish there was no baggage between us and he was just another faceless hunter in the mix. Then maybe I wouldn’t be so reluctant to pleasure-mate.
But I suppose if things were truly like that, we never would have come together in the first place. Because Hassen would have gone on the hunts with the others, and I would have still felt like lonely, lost Maddie. Funny how the only time I don’t feel lost is when I’m with him.
He plays with a few strands of my hair and then raises his hips in what feels like a slow, delicious thrust. “Do humans mate in this position?”
“Yup.” I put my hands on his chest and prop up. He feels hard and ready to go again, which is insane, considering he just finished a minute or so ago. “If you can think of it, humans have tried it.”
“Mmm.” He twines my hair between his fingers and then regards it, the gold stark against the blue of his skin. Then his gaze focuses on me. “Tell me more about the males bothering you.”
I skim my hand over his chest, teasing his rock-hard nipples. That’s one sa-khui trait that’s taking me some getting used to—nipples you could scratch glass with. But it’s strange, because on him, they seem right. “It’s not important.”
“And your sister?”
I don’t want to think about Lila. I’m too confused when it comes to my sister. “She’s not important, either.” I rock my hips over him. “Right now, all that is important is you and me.”
His eyes gleam, and on that, I see we are both agreed.
HASSEN
I haul a large dvisti carcass over one shoulder as I head toward the tribal caves. The large kill is more than duty—it is a peace offering and a show of strength all at once.
This day, I will go to my chief. I will show him that I am a strong, capable hunter. I will tell him of the tireless work I have done to feed the tribe, of the many caches I have filled while in exile. I will tell him of the endless traps I have set and let him see that I am a strong and worthy hunter. Despite spending my days with Mah-dee, I have been hunting at night to ensure that I do not slack; now, when I feed the tribe, I feed not just companions and family, I feed Mah-dee.
It has been two long days since I have seen my mate, and I keenly feel every moment. Even though I made her swear not to go to the trees and wait for me, I still check there regularly, just in case. My Mah-dee is passionate and loving…but she does not listen to orders well. But she has stayed away, and I must believe that it is because the cave is full once more. She cannot slip out to see me.
I expected this.
I did not expect to be gutted by it. Even now, the ache of her absence gnaws at me. My mate should be at my side, in my furs. She should be in my arms at night, pressing her small face against my chest and holding tightly to me. I should be at her side, giving her more lessons on how to hunt and take care of herself, and comforting her when she is sad. The fact that I cannot be there for her makes me crazed.
I think of Vaza, and Harrec, and angry, fierce Bek—are they comforting my Mah-dee? Offering to dry her tears with gifts?
I bare my teeth as I think it, and my steps speed up.
Today, I go to my chief and demand he end my exile. The brutal season will be here in a few hands of days, and I want to make a cave with Mah-dee. She is my mate, even if we do not resonate, and I must care for her like any good hunter.
It does not matter if Mah-dee is not convinced. I will not give the others time to persuade her otherwise. If she is not yet sure, I will use my cock, and my tongue, and my spur to convince her that she is mine.
And I will do whatever Vektal asks as long as he gives her to me.
There are a few tribesmates out in the snow near the front entrance to the caves. I raise a hand in greeting as I pass Teef-nee and Salukh. They are digging new rows of holes in their strange fascination with growing things. Hemalo and Kashrem have their skins spread out on the snow, scraping away as they converse. Sessah and Farli play with her pet dvisti a short distance away. Nearby, I see Bek at the front entrance of the cave, taking morning guard duty.
I narrow my eyes at the sight of him.
Even though Bek was not named by Mah-dee as one of her suitors, I am wary of him. He has shown interest in the humans before. I head toward him, cutting through the snow. Farli sees me and waves, then races after her pet as it scampers away. The others do not pay attention. Good.
Bek nods at me, eyeing the carcass over my shoulders. “Good kill. Lots of meat on that one.”
“I am a good hunter.”
He shrugs, leaning against the cave wall. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he idly scans the grounds, watching over all. When I do not leave, he turns back to me, a frown on his face. “What?”
I lift my chin at him. “A better hunter than you.”
His eyes narrow at my challenge, but he does not move. His tail flicks, an outward sign of his annoyance at my words. “You have been out in the snows too long. It has addled your mind.”
“I am the best hunter of the unmated males,” I continue. “The most worthy of a mate.”
Bek snorts. “Is that why you approach me? You think I chase after the angry, yellow-maned one?” He shakes his head and gazes off into the distance. “I am done with humans. She is all yours.”
His bitter answer pleases me. I grunt acknowledgment and pass him, heading into the cave. Bek has been warned. Now I must let the others know of my intentions: Taushen, Vaza, Harrec, even quiet Warrek, if I must. The elders—save Vaza—have not shown much interest in the human females, but I will ask around. If they must be chased away from my Mah-dee, then I will snarl at them as well.
I enter the cave and wait a moment for my eyes to adjust. The central fire burns bright despite it being early morning. A few of the humans frolic in the waters of the spring with their kits, and I see their mates talking nearby. Stay-see is by the fire, and as I watch, her mate kisses her cheek and then lopes off
, heading deeper into the cave. Vektal and his mate, Shorshie, sit with Li-lah near the fire, and off to the far side of the bathing pool, Kemli is talking to Claire and Jo-see, gesturing at their bellies and laughing. A few others move in and out, busy with tasks. It is a good morning, and the cave is bustling with people.
Too many people. I do not see Mah-dee.
Sevvah and Aehako approach as they see me enter. “So much meat!” Aehako exclaims, rubbing his hands together. “You spoil us, Hassen.”
I fling the kill onto the ground before them. “I do my duty. Have you seen Taushen and the other hunters?” It is early enough that I should be able to catch them before they go out on the trails. I need to find them to warn them away from my female.
“Taushen and Harrec are getting arrowheads from my mate,” Sevvah tells me. “Do you need more, too?” She gets out her butchering knife and eyes the kill, then gestures at the legs. “Grab it by that end, Aehako. We will need to smoke a good deal of this before it goes bad. Warrek brought in two quill-beasts at first light, and we have too much fresh meat.”
I grunt. It is a slight admonishment. When the weather is good, we bring back smaller kills and cache the larger ones for the brutal season. I am showing off by bringing in such a large kill, and wise, motherly Sevvah knows it. I touch her shoulder. “My thanks for taking this on.”
“We will make good use of the meat.” Her eyes are bright with amusement. “Should I be worried for Taushen and Harrec?”
“I will set them straight.”
“Oho,” Aehako says with a grin, kneeling by the dvisti and hefting it into his arms. “I would like to be there to see that.”
“Hush,” Sevvah says, batting at his arm. “Tell your sweet Kira we need her help with this meat.”
He grins at her and drags it away, over to one of the rocky, jutting shelves along the wall of the cave set aside for the messier tasks.