Fall (Hold #3)

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Fall (Hold #3) Page 6

by Claire Kent


  Remembering her purpose, she walked toward him.

  He must have smelled or heard her before he saw her because he suddenly turned in her direction. He lowered his spear and waited until she reached him.

  His eyes had moved from her head to her toes, and they focused on the supplies she was carrying. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Groom?” he asked, very seriously.

  She nodded, telling herself there was no reason to feel so self-conscious. This was what she was supposed to be doing. “Groom,” she repeated, just as soberly.

  Couples could groom anywhere evidently—some did it in the cave and some outside, some in the evenings and some in the middle of the day. Tamen was across the river from them, and he was watching them curiously.

  Lenna didn’t want to make her first attempt at grooming where everyone else could see her, so she took Rone by the hand and led him farther down the river to where she’d bathed earlier that week.

  It was private here, and there was a large flat rock that Rone could sit on.

  He hadn’t said a word since he’d asked the one question, but his dark eyes never left her face as she gestured for him to sit down. She felt irrationally nervous as she set down the bowl of oil and the blade on the ground and turned the comb in her hand. The teeth were thick and wide apart, which was a good thing. There was no way she could have gotten a fine-toothed comb through Rone’s thick, tangled hair.

  Taking a deep breath, she started to comb out his hair. It wasn’t an easy task. She tried to do it carefully, rather than yanking at all the tangles, but sometimes it was impossible to be gentle and still get the knots out. She worked on it for almost an hour, and Rone sat wordlessly the whole time. Finally, she could get the comb all the way down his straight dark hair, so long it reached halfway down his back. She took some of the oil and slicked his hair down before braiding it in one long, tight braid down his back, tying it off with a short, thin cord.

  “Good,” she said, letting out a relieved breath at how nice his hair finally looked. It looked just as good as any other man’s in the tribe—just as good as Tamen’s. No one was going to look down on Rone for her grooming job.

  “Good,” Rone repeated, reaching up to feel his hair gently.

  Now that his hair was done, she had to move on to his beard. It was a little easier, though, since she could take the sharp implement and just chop the length of it off section by section. Only when it was short enough to shave him did she start being careful. She’d never shaved someone else before—certainly not with such a primitive tool. She went very slowly, and gradually the thick hair on his face disappeared to reveal of square-chinned, high cheekboned, very handsome face.

  She’d had no idea he would be so handsome beneath all the hair.

  She rubbed oil into his face when she’d finished, feeling like she was looking at a stranger.

  He must have felt that way too because he kept reaching up to touch his jaw and cheeks.

  “Good,” she said with a smile, pleased with her handiwork and hoping Rone would be pleased too.

  He smiled back at her. “Good. Groom good.”

  To her surprise, she felt herself flushing a little at this praise.

  There wasn’t much left to do now. She had to oil the rest of his skin. She took off his clothes, secretly pleased with the look of his big, masculine body. He had a lot of hair on his chest, arms and legs, but it wasn’t at all unpleasant.

  What she really wanted was for him to get into the river to wash off, but he would probably take that as an insult. Instead, she took a piece of her old top, which she’d kept in case she needed cloth for some reason. She dipped it into the water and used it to wipe off the dirt from his body, rinsing and rewetting it several times before she was finished.

  Then she took the oil, slicked up her hands, and rubbed it into his skin, starting with his arms, then moving to his chest, back, belly and legs.

  She experienced the strangest surge of pleasure and possessiveness, as if grooming him had made him hers in a way he hadn’t been before.

  She was on her knees in front of him when she finally finished, and she looked up and met his eyes.

  They were so hot her breath caught in her throat.

  Her gaze immediately dipped down to his groin, and she could see that he was hard. Very hard. Completely erect.

  They had sex in bed every night before they went to sleep. Lenna generally enjoyed it, although they always used the same position—that and doggie style seemed to be the only positions this tribe even knew—and it never lasted long enough for her to come.

  She didn’t resent it. She doubted Rone even knew that women were capable of reaching orgasm, and a cave, surrounded by so many other people, was not a place where Lenna would be comfortable teaching him otherwise.

  He was never rough, and he was always pleased and appreciative afterwards, so she had no complaints at all.

  But she felt a sharp pang of desire and possessiveness as she saw how hard he was at the moment.

  Rone was a good mate. And a decent man. And her life here would have been so much harder without him.

  She wanted to do something nice for him. She wanted to really please him.

  So she reached for his erection.

  Clearly confused, Rone grabbed her hands before she touched him.

  She smiled up at him. “Good,” she said, having no other vocabulary to let him know what she was doing. “Good.”

  He frowned, but he released her hands and stared down at her while she took his cock in her hands.

  He sucked in a sharp breath as she ran her fingertips down the length of him and his body started to tighten.

  She raised herself up on her knees and adjusted his position slightly until she could reach him with her mouth. She ran her tongue down the length of him, the way she’d done with her fingers.

  He grunted softly, his thighs tensing palpably on either side of her.

  She straightened up and smiled up at him. “Good.”

  “Good,” he said thickly.

  Her pussy throbbing even more, she leaned back down so she could take him fully in her mouth, pleased when he groaned helplessly.

  She took a minute to establish a rhythm with her hand wrapped around the base of him and her mouth on his head, but then she applied hard, even suction to his cock.

  Rone was losing it quickly, grunting out, “Good,” over and over again as his body started to shake. He was gripping a fistful of her hair and getting louder and louder as he fell completely out of control.

  He came with a long bellow, his body shuddering helplessly and his cock pulsing intensely as he released himself into her mouth.

  When she finally straightened up, he’d almost collapsed onto the rock with a look of completely sated astonishment.

  “Good,” he gasped, as he was clearly trying to get his breath. “Good… thing.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what the last word was, but she’d always understood it to be a general, inclusive word like “thing.”

  She decided “good thing” was a reasonable enough way to describe a blow job.

  She laughed and gently stroked his thighs.

  He pulled her up so she was beside him on the rock. “Good mate,” he said, stroking her hair. “Good thing. Lenna good mate.”

  She couldn’t help but smile and feel rather proud of herself. She leaned over to press a kiss just to the side of his mouth, amazed that his face was so smooth and his expression so easy to see.

  It was different, unnerving, but she was starting to like him clean-shaven like this.

  He gave a little jerk and stared at her in confusion, and she realized he didn’t know what a kiss was.

  After a minute, he turned the same side of his face toward her again and waited. Chuckling, she leaned over and kissed him again.

  “Good thing,” he murmured again.

  She couldn’t disagree.

  Five

  A few weeks later, Lenna stayed up most of the n
ight helping Mara as Tamen’s current mate had a stillborn baby.

  The woman’s name was Jin, and she’d never been friendly with Lenna. In fact, she acted cool and superior with her, despite the fact that Lenna was Rone’s mate, and Rone was capable of challenging the tribe’s alpha.

  Jin had been visibly pregnant since Lenna had arrived on the planet. She must have been at least seven months along. When she went into labor that evening, Lenna suspected that it was too early, and the rest of the women appeared to understand the same thing.

  No one was excited, but no one seemed particularly upset. Mostly, the mood of the cave was tired and subdued, as Jin went through hours of labor to give birth to a very premature baby who was obviously dead.

  It was very late—after midnight—when Lenna finally was able to go to bed. She was shaky and nauseated and deeply disturbed that the men and children had just slept through the whole thing and the women, even gentle Mara, had gone through the process as if it were just a normal event.

  The Kroo didn’t have very many babies. There were currently only two children under three. This should have been a loss. A personal loss for Tamen and Jin, and a loss for the tribe as a whole.

  But Lenna was the only one who seemed genuinely upset by it. She’d never been particularly maternal or domestic. She’d never wanted to have children. But she also never wanted to again live through anything like what she had tonight.

  She was shuddering helplessly as she crawled under the blankets beside Rone. He’d been asleep—like all the other men—but he woke up when she climbed over him to get into her normal position.

  “Lenna,” he mumbled, as she pulled the furs up over them both.

  He sounded so warm and sleepy and familiar that something broke inside her. She choked on a sob and huddled against him, trying desperately not to cry.

  Jin hadn’t even cried over losing the baby. There was no reason for Lenna to do so.

  Rone gave a questioning grunt and nuzzled at her face. It just made her shake even harder.

  He propped himself up over her, trying to peer at her in the dark. “Lenna hurt?” This thought must have pushed him into urgency because he pulled back the covers and started to examine her body, evidently searching for injury or illness.

  Lenna pushed him away, still strangling on suppressed tears. “Lenna no hurt.”

  Rone relaxed and sniffed at her face again where a couple of tears had streamed down her cheeks.

  She wanted to explain, since he appeared genuinely concerned, but she realized she had no idea what the word in their language was for “sad.” She’d been with them for more than two months now, and it had never come up.

  It bothered her. A lot. That no one had needed to use the word sad in all that time.

  There was something inhuman about it.

  Rone was still sniffing her, and it made her feel even worse. She gently pushed him away and turned onto her side, her back to him. “Lenna sleep.”

  If a little part of her wanted Rone to be concerned enough to keep asking her what was wrong, it was to be disappointed. He relaxed behind her and mumbled, “Lenna sleep.” He stroked her hair a few times. “Lenna good.”

  Lenna wasn’t good. She was aching and queasy and so upset she was starting to go numb from it.

  But evidently there was no one in this cave who could understand.

  ***

  The next morning, she still felt sick and sad—even more so since everyone got up and went about their business as if nothing unusual had happened the night before.

  Lenna found Desh after breakfast, desperately needing to speak to someone who might possibly comprehend how troubled she felt.

  He was cleaning off the turnip-roots that had been picked the day before, so they could be added to the tribe’s store for winter, but he looked up when Lenna sat down beside him.

  “Does no one in this tribe even have a heart?” she asked, without preface or segue.

  He evidently knew what she referred to. “Most of the babies they have die, either in miscarriages or when they’re infants. They don’t get attached the way we’re used to. They can’t get attached—not until there’s a good chance the baby will live.”

  “I understand not acting like babies are the center of the universe, but they don’t even seem to be upset about it. It’s unnatural.”

  “Unnatural? They don’t act like what we’re used to, but how do you know how they’re really feeling inside?”

  The words caught her off-guard, and she had to nod in acknowledgement. It wasn’t fair to judge the Kroo by her standards. After all, she didn’t really know them at all.

  In a milder tone, she asked, “Have you seem them after an adult dies?”

  “Yes. They mourn. But they have to keep going about life, or they won’t survive.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “We won’t survive. You’re one of them now.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t really think I am.”

  “You seem to be getting along pretty well with Rone.”

  “I guess. He seems to be the best of the group. But even he doesn’t…doesn’t seem to understand me.” The thought made her uncomfortable—strangely guilty—so she decided to change the subject. “What about you? When are you going to choose a mate?”

  Desh arched his eyebrows. “Have you seen any girls who seem interested?”

  She hadn’t. Desh was a handsome, fit young man, but he was definitely on the fringes of the tribe’s society. “Why don’t you go hunting with the men? If you killed a few animals, they’d probably be impressed.”

  “Have you ever tried killing an animal with a spear? It’s not as easy as you think. These men have been practicing all their lives to do it.”

  Of course. There was no way she could expect a man who’d grown up with laser guns to be competent with a spear made of wood and stone. And Desh had evidently been always bookish—a real nerd, he’d called himself once. “Sorry,” she murmured. “It was stupid of me to even ask.”

  “No. It wasn’t stupid. I’ve been working on it in what little spare time I have. I think eventually I’ll be able to hunt. Then maybe things will change.”

  She smiled at him, feeling better, like she wasn’t the only one who was an alien on this planet. “Here. I’ll help you with these this morning, and then maybe you’ll have time to practice this afternoon.”

  ***

  They worked on the turnips for a few hours, and they finished by early afternoon—so Lenna went with Desh to help him practice with the spear.

  She even tried to throw it a few times herself and immediately realized how difficult it really was. She had excellent aim with a gun, and she was strong for a woman, but there was no way she could throw a spear in a way that actually reached and pierced an animal’s body.

  Desh had clearly been practicing though, and he came quite close a few times.

  She’d been planning to clean Rone’s bed this afternoon, but she changed her mind since spending time with Desh had cheered her up, made her feel more like her real self.

  Late in the afternoon, they were sitting against a rock, and Desh was helping her add more words to her vocabulary. She was laughing over his frustration with her inability to pronounce the word for “child.”

  She jerked to a sudden silence when she realized that Rone was standing a few feet away, glaring at them.

  His angry expression was unmistakable, and she automatically stood up, as did Desh.

  “Rone search Lenna,” he growled, taking a few steps so he was right in front of her.

  There was no reason for Lenna to feel guilty or like she’d done anything wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “Lenna here.” She pointed to the ground where she stood.

  Rone’s dark eyes narrowed as she looked between her and Desh. He reached out to pull Lenna toward him by her arm. “Lenna Rone mate.”

  She gasped and shook off his grip. “Yes. Rone mate. Lenna talk Desh.”

  “No.” Rone took her by the arm a
gain. “No talk Desh. Lenna Rone mate.” He was so angry he was almost shaking with it.

  Lenna’s mouth fell open in absolute astonishment. Surely he couldn’t be telling her that she wasn’t allowed to even talk to another man.

  She looked back at Desh, who had been standing silently.

  Desh shook his head. “There’s no sense in arguing. He’s not going to understand. There’s no word in their language for friend. You’re either mate or you’re tribe or you’re stranger or you’re enemy. They don’t understand any other relationships.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she snapped, glaring back at Rone. “I’m not going to just stop talking to you.”

  They’d been talking in the common language, which evidently outraged Rone even more. “No talk Desh. Desh walk.” He pointed fiercely toward the cave, in what was a very clear sign for Desh to leave.

  Desh shook his head. “Sorry, Lenna. I can’t get in a fight with him—not if I want to stay with the tribe.”

  “I know. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Rone made a low growling sound as they spoke in a language he couldn’t understand, and he only fell silent when Desh was out of sight.

  Then he took her by both of the shoulders, not gently. “Lenna Rone mate.”

  She pulled out of his grip and opened her mouth to argue, but there was no argument she could make. She was his mate, and Desh was right. Rone was never going to understand that Desh wasn’t a threat to that.

  A caveman was going to act like a caveman, and she was stupid to hope he might ever act differently.

  So she didn’t say anything at all. She just turned away from him and started to walk back toward the cave.

  Rone fell in step with her, and he kept peering at her face, like he was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

  It wasn’t just a language barrier that was standing between them. They were from two completely different worlds.

  Even if she had the words to explain her point of view to him, he was never going to understand.

  ***

  She was still simmering with resentment and annoyance that evening. She was tired and upset and not hungry at all, so she didn’t eat much dinner.

 

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