by Ruby Dixon
The band she wears around her teats? “Do you wish me to stop?”
“No,” she says breathlessly. “I just…wanted to let you know that if you reach up, you’re going to find boob.”
“I welcome this,” I tell her.
“Me too,” she says, and there is such shyness in her voice it makes me ache. I want her to enjoy my touch, because I want her to crave it as much as I crave touching her. I cannot imagine that a human male would not find her attractive, just because she is taller than them. If she towered over me, I would still find her lovely. I would still put my mouth all over her legs and caress her body and woo her to my furs. There is nothing about her that I do not like.
I pull at her belt, undoing the knots with my fingers. “Tell me if you wish for me to stop.”
“I don’t want to stop,” she murmurs, kissing me again. “I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me.” She skims her fingers along the band of my loincloth, teasing at the flesh there.
I fling her belt aside, and she sucks in a breath. I press my forehead to hers as I slide my hand up her soft belly. It is gently rounded, and she feels incredible. Hunger rushes through me, and I nearly lose control when I feel her hand move lower, cupping my cock.
“Oh wow, that…feels impressive. I knew you were big, but, um, gosh.”
I groan. “My size pleases you?”
“Oh yeah. And you’ve got ridges,” she breathes as her fingers outline my shape through the leather. “That’s gonna be…interesting.”
“You will like it,” I promise her. I will make sure she is wet and flushed with pleasure before my cock ever gets near her. “I will make you feel good.”
“I know,” she says, and her lips brush over mine. “You always do.”
I move my hand up and brush it over the curve of one teat. She gasps, and a little moan escapes her. “Oh.”
She is so soft here. I explore her with my fingers, tracing the shape of her teat under the fur tunic. They are round, plump little mounds, unlike the flat, muscular teats of the sa-khui women. Atop it is a ruched little tip, and it is erect but still soft and pleasant to the touch. She makes a little cry when I brush over it, and I realize she is far more sensitive here, just like she said. I am fascinated by this, and I rub gently back and forth, watching her reactions.
Kate squirms, her breath coming in sharp pants as I rub at the tip of her teat. She arches against my hand, and her fingers clench around my cock, and she gives me a ragged stroke. “I…I should be touching you, shouldn’t I?” she says between panting breaths. “Instead you’re making it all about me.”
“That is because there is nothing that gives me more pleasure than touching you,” I murmur, pressing another light kiss to her mouth. “I would touch you everywhere, taste you everywhere. I want to put my mouth where my hand is.” And I stroke my thumb over her teat again.
She gives me a shaky little nod, and I realize she is giving me permission. I was not asking for this—just telling her how I wished to touch her—but I will give this to her. I want her to feel the same need I feel. Gently, I push aside the leather of her tunic, exposing her rounded teat to the open air. It looks as soft and lovely as it feels, the pink tip tight. I growl low in my throat at the enticing sight and lean down to taste her.
Kate moans the moment my lips touch her skin, and her hands go to my horns. Encouraged, I hold her tight with one hand on her hip as she squirms underneath me, dragging my tongue over that delicious little tip that she loves to have touched. The taste of her skin is perfect, the feel of her underneath me maddening, and I am lost to the pleasure of touching her. Over and over, I lap at her nipple, learning which touches make her sigh happily and which ones make her entire body jerk and come to life.
Hungry to give her more, I rub my hand up and down her hip, digging my fingers into her full, rounded bottom. “Do you like it when I touch you?” I rasp between licks at her nipple.
She makes a soft little noise in her throat and arches underneath me, pushing her teat toward my mouth once more.
“I want to touch you more,” I tell her, and give her a little nip. “I want to put my hand on your cunt and feel your heat.”
Kate moans loudly at this, and I can feel her entire body shiver. “You-you do?”
“More than anything.” I press fervent kisses to her soft skin. “Will it frighten you?”
“W-what about touching you? Shouldn’t I be touching you?” Her hands stroke at my horns, then my mane, then flutter over my shoulders, as if she is uncertain what to do.
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than putting my hand between your thighs,” I promise her.
The little sigh she gives tells me everything, as does the way she relaxes her knees, letting her legs fall open. It is a silent invitation, but the kiss she bestows on me is hot and full of need and encouragement. I slant my mouth over hers, my tongue stroking deep into her mouth, and she clings to my shoulders, rubbing up against me with impatience. She is just as eager as I am, her moans of encouragement making my body shudder with need.
I push my hand past the waistband of her leggings and cup her mound. She gives a squeak of surprise, going still underneath me, and I pause to let her get used to my touch. I am fascinated by the way she feels, the tangle of curls underneath my hand and the heat pouring from between her thighs. I want to push deeper, to explore her with my fingers, but I must go slower, as she has said before. I must take my time to make sure she is enjoying herself.
“Do you wish for me to stop?” I nudge my nose against hers and then brush my lips over her mouth. “Would you prefer just mouth-matings?”
“No, I want this.” Her fingers curl against my shoulders. “It’s just…startling. That’s all. It feels intense.” Then she shyly leans in and gives my lower lip a gentle bite, then swipes it with her tongue.
The banked hunger inside me roars to a blazing fire. I kiss her hungrily again, devouring her soft mouth, even as I press my fingers against her cunt. Immediately, I encounter slickness. She is wet with need from our touches, and I groan as I drag my fingers up and down her soft heat, exploring her folds while she whimpers into my mouth.
So sweet. So good.
She is impossibly soft here, and I gently touch her, learning her body. I have seen naked females before, but I have never touched one. Her folds are swollen and slick, and she rocks her hips as I move my hand, encouraging me. She pants against my mouth, no longer kissing me—she is too distracted. That is all right; I am, too. All of my focus is on the hot, wet cunt in my hand.
I drag my forefinger along her folds and discover a little bump at the top of the valley. The moment I touch it, she jerks in my arms, the breath exploding from her, and she clutches at my forearm tightly. “Oh god!”
I pause. “What is it?” This must be her third nipple, as the others have mentioned. Humans have this, but sa-khui females do not, and supposedly they like for it to be touched. Perhaps my Kate does not?
“I just…” She bites her lip and rubs her hips up against my hand. “That was…a lot to take in at once.”
“It was bad?”
“God, no.” She presses her forehead against me. “Really, really good,” she whispers. “So good it scared me a little.”
“I will go slower, as you say.”
She gives a little nod, and I pet her cunt, stroking it with careful, easy motions. I do not wish to startle her or make her frightened. I kiss her mouth again, my tongue dancing along the seam of her lips as my fingers do along the seam of her cunt. When she moans, I go a little deeper, stroking up and down the valley of her sex. I circle a fingertip around her core, my hand coated with her juices. I am dying to taste her, but I am going slow, I remind myself. Licking my hand like a ravenous beast is not slow.
But I am eager to touch her third nipple again. I kiss down her neck then nuzzle at her throat. “Put your hands on my horns and feed your pretty teats to my mouth,” I demand, sliding my fingers up and down her wet folds.
Kate’s breathless moan of response makes my cock twitch.
She clutches at my horns, bringing her body up slightly, and then her nipples are in my face. I nip at one and then take it into my mouth, licking and sucking at the sensitive tip. She cries out, rubbing up against me, and I slide my fingers along the wet seam of her cunt again. I want to push a finger deep inside her and watch her ride it.
I want to push my tongue inside her and let her ride it as well.
I nuzzle at her teat, lavishing attention on it as she moans and writhes against me. Her movements become more frantic, the noises she makes more urgent, and I decide to move things along. I stroke my fingers deeper along the seam of her cunt until I am rubbing along her slick valley, and still she whimpers for more. I ache to claim her, to take my own pleasure, but I want this to be about her. I want to make her addicted to my touch.
Slowly, gently, I push a finger to the entrance of her core and then begin to press it inside.
“Oh god,” she pants. “Oh god, oh god.”
“Shall I stop?” I lick the tip of one teat teasingly while she rubs up against me. “Or shall I keep going?”
My Kate gives the most startling snarl and grabs at my mane with both hands. “Don’t stop,” she demands, breathless. “Don’t stop.”
Her excitement fuels mine. I drag my teeth over her teat with increased enthusiasm and push my finger deeper into the well of her cunt. She is impossibly tight, but so slick with juices that my mouth waters. Her little cries tell me that she enjoys this, and she continues to squirm against me until my finger is seated deep inside her. I wish it were my cock.
Next time, I tell myself. Next time it will be my cock sheathed in her cunt, coated with her juices. Next time it will be my spur dragging along her wet folds. This time, we go slow.
Slow is both wonderful and maddening, I decide.
I pump my finger into her slowly, pressing kisses and licking at her little nipple. She moans low in her throat and pushes her hips against me, meeting my thrusts, and my cock aches with increased need. I rock my hips in time with the thrusts, rubbing against her thigh. Her little whimpers come faster, and so I increase the speed of my hand, thrusting desperately into her body.
“I need,” she pants against me, her hands pulling tight on my hair. “Need…more. Harrec, please.”
“What is it? Tell me and I will give it to you.” I am as desperate as she is, my body aching with the need for release. I grind my cock against her thigh, close to the edge. But I will not come without her pleasure first.
But she just rocks on my fingers, faster and harder, making soft noises of frustration.
“Tell me,” I pant, watching her face. “Show me.”
She whimpers and then puts her hand over mine, between her thighs. “My clit,” she breathes. “Need you to touch it to come.”
Is this what she needs? I will give it to her. I shift my thumb, sliding it between her folds, and locate the little nub that she has called a “clit.” This must be what she referred to. I rub my thumb back and forth, and she gives a choked cry, her body shuddering and contracting against me, as if she is trying to pull her legs and arms up to protect herself.
I immediately stop, worried I am doing it wrong. “Kate—”
“Keep going,” she snarls, so forceful it takes me by surprise. I do not need to be told twice, though. I rub her third nipple, even though it makes thrusting into her with my fingers difficult, and she jerks against me, panting my name over and over again. A moment later, she gives a little cry and crushes me against her teats, her hips working in time with my fingers. I can feel her entire body shudder and quake, and my hand is flooded with her wet release. She has come, and come hard.
It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I continue to pump inside her, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible. As I do, I grind my cock against her thigh. I am close to my own release, and I rub my face against her teats, wanting to drown in her warmth and her scent.
She gives a low moan of satisfaction, and her thighs squeeze around my hand. “Oh, Harrec.”
The way she says my name sends a jolt through my entire body. I cannot help myself. I come hard, erupting in my loincloth with an explosion of breath and a frantic release that has been building for days.
Who needs resonance? Not me or my sweet Kate.
I collapse in the furs next to her, sated. She clings to me, pressing her teats against my face even as she struggles to catch her breath. I do not mind this; my hand is still wedged between her thighs, and I can think of no greater place for it to be. I press a kiss to her teat and cannot help but ask, “Was that slow enough for you, my Kate?”
She gives a choked laugh and plants a hand on my face.
10
KATE
“How do you like this?” I ask, holding up the tunic I just finished. Well, to call it a tunic might be insulting to tunics everywhere. It’s more like it’s a poncho with the sides sewn shut. My sewing skills aren’t the best, and we don’t have a ton of furs to work with in this cave, so I ended up sewing several smaller furs together to form the body of the tunic. The result is…not pretty, but it’s warm. And since Harrec doesn’t have much, clothing-wise, and we’re going to be leaving soon, we both need to stock up.
On the other side of the fire, across from me, Harrec is whittling bones into spear-tips. His lap is covered by a length of leather, white flecks of bone shavings all over the place. I’m in charge of clothing while he makes weapons, since we lost those, too. It’s not because it’s sexist, either—I honestly don’t know how to make a spear, but I can sew a few furs together.
Harrec eyes my creation and then gives a sad shake of his head. “I do not like it.”
“You don’t?” I drop my arms, disappointed. “Why not?”
“It covers up your pretty teats.”
I snort-giggle. “It’s not for me, goofball. It’s for you.”
“To cover up my teats?” He gives me a playful look. “Because you do not wish to share me with others?”
I erupt with laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Only to make you smile.”
I continue chuckling, shaking my head as I smooth the tunic out in my lap. “Even if this tunic wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t go around topless.”
“Disappointing,” he says, and makes a tsking noise.
And I get the giggles again. Crazy man. “I’m going to assume this is fine and work on another.” Harrec’s fine going shirtless in warmer weather, but a sudden storm would mean that both of us would need additional layers, and so I want us to be prepared since it’ll take a few days to catch up to the others. I fold the tunic up and set it aside.
“Do not make your next a complicated project,” he warns me. “We will leave in the morning, I think.”
“Oh?” I’m surprised—and a little disappointed—to hear that, even though I knew it was coming. “Your leg is better?” He’s able to walk on it, but we’ve been taking it slow, and he’s been staying close to the cave so as not to overtire himself. I was hoping we’d stay for a few more days, but I suppose we eventually have to catch up with the others.
The last few days have been…exciting ones. Well, not exciting in a lot of ways, I suppose. The day-to-day chores remain the same—collect fuel, check traps, collect snow, cook, sew, tend the fire, scrape skins, blah blah. But between Harrec and me, things have been…heated. I can feel myself blushing even as I pull out a few of the thicker hides from storage. Being here alone with Harrec means when we pass by, we can grab and caress the other. It means me running my hand along his flicking tail if I want to be kissed, or him putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against him to caress me. It means long nights of heavy petting by the fire.
I’ve had so many orgasms in the last two days. So many. Harrec’s figured out just how to touch me to get me going, and it doesn’t take long before I’m practically crawling all over him, begging for him to make me come. Of
course, I give as good as I get, and I’ve learned that he likes to have his spur stroked almost as much as his cock.
It’s been two days since he first made me come, and we haven’t really done much more than petting. It’s been hands and mouths, but I haven’t gone down on him and he hasn’t gone down on me. I’m waiting for that moment, because he talks about it all the damn time and how he can’t wait to taste my pussy. Sometimes I want to shout at him and ask him what he’s waiting for, but I know exactly what he’s waiting for—he’s “going slow” for me. I suspect that if I asked him to eat me out, he would.
I’m just not brave enough to ask yet. I’m still working on getting there. But oh, I want to get there soon. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought. Taking it slow is fun, but I’m also hungry for more.
It’s a little crazy to think about. In the space of a week, we’ve gone from bickering constantly to me rescuing him to making out like bunnies at every opportunity. I wonder what another week will bring. And…I wonder if we can spend it here.
Thoughtful, I put my furs down and sidle over to where he’s working by the fire. I move behind him and put my hands on his shoulders, rubbing the knots out of them.
He groans and tilts his head back, eyes closed. “How did you know I needed this?”
“Lucky guess,” I tell him. “That and you’ve been working hard on weapons all day.” I rub at his muscles, letting my fingers play over the blue velvet of his skin. I love touching him, love exploring all of this delicious hardness that I get to crawl all over in the furs every night. Is it possible to become addicted to another person? Because I might be.
“There is much to be done before we leave tomorrow,” he murmurs, eyes still closed with pleasure.
I stroke my hands over his shoulders, rubbing hard. “That’s kind of what I’m wondering. Do we have to leave tomorrow?”
“I am afraid we must.” He sounds disappointed. “I promised Bek I would not stay away long with you, and I worry if we wait too long, it will continue to get warmer.”