by Ruby Dixon
Realization dawns. I point at the leftover. “Is this the human female that was with you?”
Her brow furrows and she studies me, trying to understand.
“Female,” I point out, then gesture at my chest. “Teats. Kit.”
“Yes,” she says excitedly in my tongue. “K’thar, yes!” She makes the same gestures with the nuts again. L’ren with Mrsl. L’ren then K’thar. “Mrsl?” she asks, tapping the leftover once more. “Mrsl no?”
I see the worry on her face. “Mrsl yes. She is alive. She went with R’jaal.”
“R’jaal?”
I pick up another nut. “R’jaal. He is of the clan Tall Horn.” I take the cluster of nuts that represent my tribe. “This is clan Strong Arm.” I grab a few of the new nuts and place the one that represents R’jaal with them. “This is Tall Horn. R’jaal. T’chai. M’tok. S’bren. And your friend, Mrsl.”
Her eyes get wide. She points at the cluster. “S’nudder grp ppl?”
“Tall Horn,” I tell her again. Then I take another cluster and use them to represent Shadowed Cat, on the far end of the island. “I’rec. O’tek. A’tam. U’dron. That is all that is left of Shadowed Cat. Our people are no longer many.” I think of the great gatherings when I was a kit, of dozens of people gathered to share food, to compete in games, and to visit family. I think of the proving games, when males would go out into the jungle to work together and bring down a skyclaw with no weapons but their bare hands.
I was in my own proving game when the Great Smoking Mountain died. All of us that are left were in the proving game. It was only the fact that we were on this side of the island that kept us alive. The rest of the land sank with the Great Smoking Mountain and took with it almost all of our people.
My jaw clenches with the grief of that time. I study the nuts before us. So few and there were once so many of us. Even now, our hunting territory is but a tiny slice of what it used to be. I remember days of travel to reach the gathering grounds. Now, I can cross all of the territory to Shadowed Cat’s lands with a day of travel.
It does not seem right.
A sniffle catches my attention. I look up and see that my mate is weeping, swiping tears from her cheeks.
“What is it?” I ask her, reaching out to caress her jaw. “Why do you cry?”
“Mrsl,” she says, lip trembling. “Mrsl nnt ded. Shsalive.” She clasps my hand in hers and gives me a pleading look. “Hft tk mi tuhr.”
“What is it you want, my mate?” I need to concentrate on her words, but she holds my hand dangerously close to her swollen teats and it distracts me.
She repeats herself, and when I shake my head again, she looks down at the nuts and then taps a finger on hers. “L’ren.” She picks it up and moves it next to the one for her friend. “L’ren Mrsl.”
She wants her friend. Of course she does. If it were me and one of my clan disappeared, I would be unable to rest until I knew he was safe. Is that what this is? Does she feel responsible for her friend? I nod. “I will talk with my clan and see what they think.”
Her smile is brilliant and my cock aches at the sight of how lovely she is. How did I ever think her strange? She is delicately made, but I have never seen anything better than her face when she is happy.
Fat One hops down off my arm and L’ren glances down, then giggles. “Fat One eat K’thar.”
Sure enough, my fat little nightflyer has eaten the nut representing me. I mock-growl as the flyer waddles toward my mate’s “nut,” shooing him away.
Some things are not to be touched.
J’shel is elated at my find that evening. He has come back with nothing more than a few small shell-walkers, and even those are scarce, he tells me. The waters near the beach grow warm, and the fish have left the shallows. I do not point out that the jungle seems to grow warmer by the day.
There is no point in alarming anyone, not when there is nothing to be done about it.
That evening, we sit together and enjoy our meal. I am happy to see L’ren eats as much meat as any of us, though she wrinkles her nose at the sight of J’shel gnawing on a leg. She grinds up a tender bit of meat between two stones and squeezes the juice from her share into a bowl, and then offers it to little Z’hren, who loves the mush when it is rubbed against his gums.
“I am surprised we did not think of that,” N’dek admits.
I am, as well. But we are hunters. We are not mothers. I watch as L’ren plays with the kit. I’chai is gone, dead this past moon. Her mate V’den died not long after they resonated. I remember how lucky I thought V’den to have resonated to the very last female of our kind. That was the last of his luck, and now his kit is here with us, motherless. I watch L’ren as she cradles Z’hren in her lap, feeding him the mush and nibbling on bites of her own food. My clan is so small that all of us matter.
What if her clan is no one but her friend? Her Mrsl? She deserves to see her. She deserves to have her at her side. If Mrsl has not resonated to R’jaal, she should come home with us.
I will have to fight him, because he will not want to give her up. But for my mate, I will do anything.
“My L’ren asked about her friend today,” I tell J’shel and N’dek.
“She spoke?” J’shel looks surprised, tossing his long braid back over his shoulder. “She learned our words that quickly?”
“She told me in words and gestures. She wants her clan at her side. I must go tomorrow and take her to see Mrsl, her friend.”
L’ren looks over at me in surprise. “Mrsl?” There is excitement and hope on her face.
I nod at her. “Tomorrow. I am taking her to the clan of the Tall Horn so she can see her friend. And if she has not resonated to one of their clan—”
“Then you will bring her back to see if she resonates to one of us?” J’shel asks, rubbing his hands eagerly and glancing over at N’dek, who seems equally enthusiastic.
“I will see if she wants to,” I warn them. “If she wishes to stay with Tall Horn, I cannot force her to leave.”
“Shall I come with you?” J’shel asks. His excitement is palpable. “I can carry Z’hren on my back.”
N’dek immediately glances away. I know what he is thinking—that J’shel will get to see the female before him because he has two good legs, while N’dek must remain behind, forgotten. It seems unfair. “No,” I say slowly. “They will be suspicious if I bring someone unmated. For now, it will just be myself and my mate.”
L’ren looks at me with hopeful eyes, and when she gazes at me like that, I would fight every male on this island just to see her happy.
I hope it does not come to that.
11
LAUREN
The men talk for a time after dinner, making plans in low voices. I don’t follow any of it, but I occasionally hear my name and that of Marisol. Every time I speak up, K’thar just smiles at me and nods, and I have to trust that he is actually going to take me to my friend. I don’t think he would lie, but I’m also hoping I’m not completely misunderstanding things.
When the suns go down, J’shel takes the baby and heads up to his sleeping spot and N’dek prepares his bed with fresh leaves that K’thar’s gathered for him. They don’t seem to be big fans of fire here, so when the light is gone, it’s pretty much bedtime. That leaves just me and K’thar to retire to our spot high up in the tree.
Bedtime. I can’t help but think about last night and I get all flushed wondering what tonight is going to be like. Not that I should be thinking about stuff like that.
Not that I haven’t thought about it every hour the entire day. I blame my cootie for my rather singular thoughts. I knew nightfall was coming. I just didn’t know if I’d be coming with it.
Ha.
But I can’t deny that I want to be touched again. Last night’s orgasm was nothing short of earth-shattering and I’m curious to see if he plans on taking control again. He hasn’t pushed me all day, but I’ve caught him watching me. I know he has to be thinking like I am—his
cootie has been just as noisy as mine all day.
If he doesn’t touch me tonight, though, I’m not sure if I have the guts to ask him to. Part of me thinks no one would care—no one in this tribe anyhow—but there’s another part of me that still thinks like the awkward Earth woman who wore glasses and sat on the sidelines at the club instead of dancing. I’m not abandoned. I don’t think I’ll ever be that person. The closest I’ll ever be to that carefree person is who I am right now, the one in the grass bikini in a jungle of naked people. I’m the one that tries to be helpful, the peacemaker. It’s hard for me to ask for things for myself.
It’s especially hard to think about asking someone Hey, would you diddle me again tonight?
K’thar gestures at the hollowed-out bole of the massive tree that they call home, and he indicates that I should try climbing it for myself tonight. I appreciate that he’s not going to throw me over his shoulder and haul me around, but I worry that I’m going to be really bad at this. “I’m not the most athletic,” I tell him, grabbing a handhold and looking up. “So no laughing.”
“L’ren, up,” he tells me in his language.
Right, right. I’m looking forward to the day we can have a real conversation. I use the handhold and pull myself up, reaching for the next one. It’s not very big and my fingers slip, and then one of K’thar’s big hands cups my butt, helping me up.
I can’t decide if this is awkward or arousing. I’m definitely aware that he’s inches away from my girl parts and it makes me squirm and reach up for the next handhold so I don’t sit on his hand for too long and get far too many ideas. The ledges carved into the inside of the tree are fairly big overall, though. I’m guessing it’s because alien hands are much larger than mine. They’re spaced rather far apart, so moving to each one is a challenge. I concentrate on traveling up the tree, and I’m panting by the time we pass all of the other platforms and make it up to the very top of the tree. I crawl out onto the woven platform and flop down, panting. “Next time maybe you take the first floor instead of the penthouse,” I complain to him as he squats at my side, looking at my winded, sprawled body with amusement.
“L’ren, yes,” he says, and touches my cheek with one big finger. I think he’s trying to tell me that he’s proud of me.
I give him a tired thumbs up.
He smiles and then moves away, and I sit up on my elbows to watch him as he disappears off the ledge with a hop, and then returns a few moments later with a handful of leaves. Fastest gatherer ever, though I suppose he has an advantage with four arms versus my puny two arms. He fluffs them into a nice, comfy looking pile and then casts a heated look in my direction.
And I feel a full-body flush move through me. I can guess what that look means, and it’s making me tingle with awareness. My cootie begins its song again, reminding me of exactly what it wants, and with every hour, it seems a little harder to argue with the darn thing. Why am I fighting this again, exactly? Because people that don’t know that I exist anymore won’t approve? Because Earth morals say it’s a bad idea to jump into bed with a guy you’ve just met?
Do those things really apply anymore?
I get to my feet and move to the edge of the bed. He sits down on one side, keeping between me and the ledge, and then waits on me.
I’m not sure how to play this. Do I try to be sexy? Standoffish? What do I want? Torn with indecision, I thump down onto the bed and lie flat on my back, adjusting my placemat-bib-shirt over my boobs. God, I am the worst at seduction.
K’thar just chuckles, as if he can hear my thoughts, and lies down next to me. Not flat on his back, but propped up on one arm and facing me. Watching me. I feel another hot prickle move through my body at that realization, and I’m glad twilight is falling, because then maybe my headlights won’t be quite so noticeable.
“L’ren,” he murmurs.
“You can call me Lo,” I whisper. “All my closest friends do. I think you qualify.” I put a hand to my chest. “Lo.”
“Lllloh,” he manages, rolling his tongue in a way that it almost sounds like he’s purring my name, kind of like his cootie is purring at me. And gosh, that should not be nearly as sexy as it is. “K’thar Llo.”
Is he saying I’m his? I get covered in goosebumps at the thought. I shouldn’t want a guy to be all caveman on me, but it’s hard to deny that I want it more than anything right now. More. Than. Anything. “That’s me. All yours.”
He gazes down at me with those glowing blue eyes and then puts a hand between my thighs, right over my leaf-covered pussy. “K’thar Llo.”
I bite back a moan. Boy, this guy doesn’t play around. “That’s yours, too.”
The look he gives me is one of fierce pleasure.
Well, two can play that game. Maybe it’s time for me to be a little bolder, myself. I reach over and grab him in the same spot he has me, right on his cock. I’m not entirely surprised to see that he’s hard already. “And this is Lo’s K’thar.”
“Yes,” he says thickly, pressing against my hand.
Okay, I’m going to have to be bold more often, because his response to my caress is almost as exciting as when he touches me. These leaves don’t hide much, and I can feel something very big and hot underneath.
He leans in, groaning low under his breath, and then oh-so-casually rips my leaf skirt off of me. No pretending with this one—he’s declaring me as his and staking his territory. And god help me, I love it. A little cry escapes me and I don’t even protest when he tears off my top, either. I guess that’s the good thing about leaf clothing—easy access.
K’thar gazes down at me, his expression as hungry as I feel. Without breaking eye contact, he rips off his own loincloth and tosses it aside.
Oh boy, now we are both really, really naked. I shiver at the realization. There’s nothing stopping us from going all the way with this mating stuff. Am I ready? Does it matter?
I bite my lip, full of aching uncertainty as he stares down at me. He’s not moving to touch me, just watching. I wonder if I’m doing something wrong? Something that’s making him hesitate today, unlike yesterday.
He looks down at my breasts, then touches the curve of one, watching me.
The fuck? He’s staring rather hard at my face and not my boobs. I frown. “What was that about?”
“Hurt?” he asks, using one of the words he’s managed to teach me over the last few days.
“No,” I say slowly. Why would they hurt?
He must see my confusion, because he chuckles and rubs his chin, looking a bit sheepish. He gestures at my breasts and indicates that they’re big, and then points at himself and shakes his head.
Does that mean females of his kind don’t have boobs like I do? Or he thinks mine are enormous? I put a hand over my breasts to cover them, feeling a little uncomfortable.
K’thar snags my hand and pulls it down with a shake of his head, then lightly runs his fingers over my nipple. “K’thar Llo.”
Oooh, so we’re back to that sexy game. I approve. I get all breathless, especially when he continues to trace my breast with his fingertips. “Yes.”
My cootie’s rumbling fiercely, so strong it feels like it’s shaking the trees. Down below, Kki lets out a raucous squawk, and I realize that it’s not just my cootie that’s shaking—it’s the entire tree.
I jump to my feet, terrified. “K’thar—another earthquake!”
“Llo,” he says calmly, getting to his feet as well. “No.”
“Don’t tell me no! I know what I heard! I…” I pause, because I realize it’s already stopped. It was just a tremor, nothing more, but it’s the second one today. Each one is terrifying because I wonder when the volcano is going to blow its top. We’re right in the danger zone, perched on the edge of the caldera.
He grabs my waist and pulls me back against him, and then all of a sudden I’m standing flush against a big, warm, sexy barbarian and my naked skin is pressed against his naked skin.
And for a moment, I forget all
about earthquakes.
K’thar holds me tightly against him, and I can feel his cock pressing into my back. My body prickles with awareness and my nipples are hard, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if he releases me.
He doesn’t, though. Instead, one big hand goes to my pussy and he strokes my curls there. “K’thar Llo,” he murmurs against my hair.
I shudder with need, leaning back against him, giving myself up to him. He wants me to be his? I’m all his to do with as he wants. “Yes.”
He groans low in his throat, and I can feel the deeper rumble of his khui in his chest. As he calmly slides one finger between the folds of my pussy, he reaches up with another hand and caresses one of my breasts again.
I suck in a breath, because the dual sensations are maddening. Did I think a guy with four arms was weird? I take it back, because he’s got so many more ways to touch me that I’m getting wet just thinking about it.
“Llo,” he says again in a deliciously husky voice, and drags that big, thick finger along the wet seam of my pussy. He moves it back and forth, then begins to lightly rub against my clit. Oh fuck, he remembers that from yesterday. Of course he does.
I cling to his arm, writhing against him and panting as he rubs my nipple at the same time he pets my clit. This is so unfair. It’s too much for me to take in. It’s overwhelming, and amazing, and oh my god, I’m going to come so hard if he keeps touching me like this. The breath wheezes in and out of my throat and I whimper, trapped in the cage of his arms as he holds me tight against him and strokes my body like it’s been his for hundreds of years and he knows just how to touch me. So unfair.
So good.
I come a moment later, crying out as a swift orgasm overtakes me. I’ve never come quickly before, but it seems that every time he touches me, I just light up and explode. I sag against him as he continues to pet me, murmuring my name.
His hand lifts from my pussy and in a daze, I watch as he raises his wet fingers to his mouth and tastes them.