Part Two
RAAHOSH
It’s late at night when I hear noises outside of the cave, off in the distance. I head out to investigate, spear in hand, ready to protect my human as she slumbers. Being on your own in the hunting lands is always dangerous and a good hunter is always at the ready. It was a herd of dvisti passing nearby. I watch them for a bit, studying the mares. A few do not have young, and it might be a good idea to hunt one when the suns return so that I might fill my small cave with ample food for my mate. The thought is a pleasing one, and I return to the cave in high spirits despite the late hour… Only to find it filled with the musk of sex and my mate touching her strange third nipple between her legs as she moans my name.
The sight fills me with elation, and my cock grows hard with need. My khui sings in my breast. She’s
ready to mate. She…she… I must remember her name.
I stride forward, watching as she pulls her hands from under her skirt with a small cry. She shuffles backwards on the furs, but the evidence of what she has been doing scents the air. It calls to me so strongly I can practically taste it with my tongue, and my cock surges and throbs in response.
Her khui resonates in her chest, and I watch as one of her hands goes to her breasts, as if trying to silence it. My own khui sings a response. It feels good. Right. I don’t even care that she is small and fragile and not sa-khui. I don’t care that her face is flat and smooth. I don’t care that she doesn’t even like me.
She’s mine. My body and hers both know it.
“No,” she hisses the moment I step forward, and she puts her hand up and gives a shake of her head.
“You don’t get to touch me. You can’t have this.”
Again she refuses me? I snort, incredulous. This human is not to be believed. But I stop in my tracks, watching her. Waiting to see what she does. She is unpredictable.
I…am amused by that.
Her fingers stroke over her sex again, and the smell of arousal fills the air. “I hate this,” she says as she strokes that strange nipple between her legs and shudders at the touch. “No woman in her right mind would be turned on in this situation. But can I stop touching myself? No! Because the thought of sex makes me ache in ways I can’t imagine.” Her fingers glide through her juices, rubbing them up and down.
I groan at the delicious sight, and my hands flex. The need to touch her is a palpable thing…but so is the scowl on her face. So I clench my fists and hold back, waiting to see what she does. Surely Georgie did not fight Vektal when he claimed her?
But…she’s clearly thinking of me. She moans my name as she touches herself. The memory of my name on her lips appeases my frustration and I narrow my eyes, watching.
The breath hisses from her lungs again and she continues to touch herself. “I’m not doing this because I want to,” she says. “I’m doing this because I have to. Because this thing humming in my chest won’t let me stop.” She touches herself again, stroking over that nipple, and then gives me a look so frustrated and angry that I feel a twinge of pity for her. Vektal said the human customs about mating are different. She must feel powerless.
Her head lolls and she bites her small, pink lip. Her fingers work on her cunt and the nipple there even faster. It’s clear she’s heading towards release, and she has no intention of letting me touch her.
Anger flares in me. Does she think this is fun for me? That I enjoy a mate that rejects my touch? Does she think I do not suffer from the same khui-madness she does? That I don’t burn for her touch? To bury my cock in her wet warmth? Does she think she is alone in this?
Or do I not matter to her?
If she insists on taking her own pleasure before my eyes and holding me at length, then I shall do the same thing. I undo the fastenings of my leggings and free my aching cock. It juts out from my leathers, proud and long.
She gasps at the sight, momentarily pausing in her frantic rubbing. “Oh my fucking God.”
Her words are nonsense. Something about coitus and spirits, but her expression tells me everything I need to know, as do her parted lips.
In this, I know I am blessed. My cock is the largest in my tribe. I have seen the other males bathing and they do not come near my girth or length. I take my cock in hand, pleased that she likes the size and I give it a stroke, dragging my hand up and down slowly, letting her watch.
“That is the biggest dick I’ve ever seen,” she breathes. “No freaking way.”
I only catch about half of what she says, but she licks her lips, and her fingers slide over her cunt once more. My own breath hitches at the sight. She is going to touch herself at the sight of me touching myself?
A groan escapes me, and my hand strokes over my cock again. I dare her to look. To watch every movement of my hand as I grip my length and flick my wrist. As I move over the crown, then back down to the thick base again. Watch me, I silently command her. Watch me touch myself at the sight of you.
And all the while, my khui thrums and resonates in my chest, so loud that my blood thunders in my ears.
I hear her khui responding to mine, increasing in volume, and she moans. “Oh God, I feel it buzzing all through me.” Her hand quickens, and she rubs the little nipple between her legs with speedy motions. Her gaze fixes on my cock again, and she licks her lips.
I groan at the sight of that. Is she anticipating what I would taste like in her mouth? The thought is a titillating one. I imagine feeding her my cock, the head of it brushing over those soft, plump human lips….and her saying my name as she takes it into her mouth. The very image is obscene.
I close my eyes, because it takes everything I have to retain control. To not spurt seed all over the floor of the cave instantly at the thought. I want to see her come first.
She’s still speaking, even though she thinks I can’t understand her. This human is a talker. I open my eyes to watch her, and see that she’s still got her gaze on my cock. “Can’t believe you have ridges on your goddamn dick,” she says, her hand working her cunt furiously. Her other reaches up under her tunic and cups her breast, and she hisses with satisfaction. “And I don’t know what that horn thing is above it, but it’s making me fucking crazy.” Her fingers slide into her cunt with a wet sound, and then she moans louder.
“Fuck, I’m coming.”
My nostrils flare as I watch her quiver and throw her head back with the force of her orgasm. The cords in her neck stand out and her entire body stiffens, as the scent of sex grows even thicker in the small cave. Her fingers work her cunt harder, and she gasps and makes soft sounds as she brings herself release.
She did that from watching me. Seeing my cock turned her on.
I feel an intense surge of pride and lust at the thought. The need to possess her grows greater than ever, but I remember Vektal’s words. Humans have different mating rituals. Perhaps this is one of them. Perhaps I’ve been reading my human’s signals all wrong. Perhaps she’s not pushing me away – this is just how she lets me know she’s interested. A step in the courting ritual.
I stroke my cock again, harder, as her eyes flutter open and her wet, gleaming fingers leave her sex. In a daze, she watches me pump my cock with my hand, and again, I imagine her closer, so close that I can feel her breath on my skin. She’s watching me still, and I want to pull her into this moment, to let her know that this is for her. My cock, my khui, my resonance – it all belongs to her now.
Her.
She said her name earlier, and it reverberates on the tip of my tongue. I remember it now. “Liz.”
And I make sure to say it as I come.
LIZ
Well…that was filthy.
I hadn’t expected him to catch me touching myself. Moaning his name? Just double the humiliation. It had angered me, and I’d started to masturbate as a deliberate show of independence. To show him that he didn’t own my body like he thought. That the cootie wasn’t the boss of me.
And what had he done? Whipped out his enormous dick and came along for the ride.
Worst of all? It had been incredibly sexy. The sight of that enormous hand deftly stroking up and down his length, showing me just how he likes to be touched? It had made me wetter than ever before.
I blame the cootie. I should be appalled. I should have stopped touching myself the moment he caught me. Instead, we mutually diddled ourselves into a frenzy. Now, I lie back, panting and exhausted. His seed is splattered all over the floor of the cave, and he is staring at me, a challenge in those glowing blue eyes.
I curl up on the blankets, tucking my legs closed. “If you think I’m cleaning that up, you have another thing coming to you.” But it reminds me that my hand is wet with my own juices, and I don’t want to wipe it on my nice clean clothes — not after weeks of rolling in my own filth. I stare down at my hand, frustrated.
To my surprise, he approaches, buck naked. I gasp and back up against the cave wall. “Don’t touch me!
Don’t—“ He grabs my hand and bends down, sniffing it. Then, with his gaze on me, he licks my palm and my fingers.
“Oh my God,” I moan. “You are straight up nasty kinky, aren’t you?” I try to pull my hand away, but it’s locked tight in his grip and he tongues every inch of my palm and fingers. All the while, his enormous alien dick is inches away from my face, and it’s hard all over again. He is so not getting round two. I squirm out of his grip, hating that his tongue on my flesh makes the cootie start up again. He eventually releases me and I jerk away from him. “Pervert!” This is a man who undressed me while I was unconscious and isn’t shy about making claims on my body. It’s freaking me out…and it’s freaking me out that I’m also getting aroused by it.
Still blaming the cootie.
I push at his stomach, trying to get him to take a few steps back. “Go away. Ever heard of personal space?”
He stares at me, and his dick is seriously right at eye level. It gives me a good look at the ‘extras’ in his anatomy. I mean, he’s an alien so I don’t expect him to be like the guys at the clubs back at home, but I’m a little pissy that Georgie never mentioned anything like this when she mentioned these guys were looking for wives. He’s got a fricking horn of some kind above his dick. It’s not pointed like the horns on his head, but it looks almost like another thumb sticking out above his junk, and I have no idea what the hell that’s for.
Worse than that, his dick – not that I’m scrutinizing, mind you – has the same ridges along the top of it that
his arms and chest have.
It’s so weird.
I am so not turned on by it.
Not at all. Nope.
The cootie in my chest thrums, and I smack it to silence it. Fucking cootie. I grab at the furs under Raahosh’s feet. “Can I have these please?” To my relief, he steps aside and I grab the blankets and tuck them close around my body, grumbling as I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep. The cootie in my breast just keeps purring away like an asshole, and I’m cranky and not at all feeling an afterglow.
It’s like the masturbating made things worse rather than better. Which…really sucks.
I’m still utterly exhausted, though. My body’s telling me it needs more sleep. Well, actually, it’s telling me it needs sex and then sleep. But I can give it sleep. I close my eyes and try to ignore Raahosh moving around at the far end of the cave. I don’t think he’ll try anything; if he wanted to, he could have already. So even
though I’m alone in a cave with a crazy alien and we just mutually had an angry masturbation fest, I drift off to sleep.
• • •
When I wake up in the morning, I’m not entirely surprised to feel a big warm body pressing up against mine. Raahosh isn’t exactly Mr. Boundaries, but if all he’s doing is sleeping, I can live with that. I yawn and sit up, scooting away from him.
His big arm automatically goes around my waist. He grunts and pulls me back against him, then nestles further down in the blankets.
Typical man. I pry his arm off of me. “Some of us have to pee.” I slide out of his grip and wobble to my feet. My legs feel shaky, but I feel strong. I wiggle my toes, and they’re dandy, too. Huh. Maybe the cootie isn’t the world’s worst. Then again, it has terrible taste in men.
The floor of the cave has been swept clean, and the fire has low, warm coals on it, which tells me that Raahosh hasn’t been sleeping for long. I yawn and look around for shoes, but the only thing I see are his boots. I shrug and stick my feet in them, then clomp out into the snow to do my business.
I don’t go far, because I’m not stupid. This place is alien and completely foreign and could be full of all kinds of dangerous things. I don’t stray far from the mouth of the cave, and I’m not surprised when I turn around to see Raahosh there, a sleepy look on his face, spear in his hands, ready to protect me.
Or, you know, hunt me down.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him. “Not unless there’s a Starbucks around the corner.” He gestures at the cave mouth and I roll my eyes, heading back inside. “Seriously, where do you think I’m going to go? I have no idea where I am and no clue what direction everyone else is in. Do you think I’m just going to pick a direction and decide to wing it? After all I’ve been through?”
When he just stares, I sigh. “Never mind. I’m clearly talking to a brick wall here. Thanks for kidnapping me, by the way. Props for making a shitty situation even worse. I sincerely appreciate that.”
He glares and gestures at the cave mouth again.
“Right. I was heading in that direction.”
I move inside the cave and plop down near the fire. It takes me a moment before I realize that I’m not… shivering anymore? Either I’m completely numb to the cold in this place or the cootie is doing its magic. I mean, it’s brisk and I could use a nice warm jacket, but it no longer feels as if my feet are going to turn into blocks of ice. I sit down on the furs and pull his boots off, offering them to him again.
He takes them with a narrow-eyed look. Then, he examines them carefully, as if I’ve somehow booby- trapped them in the three seconds that have passed as I removed them from my feet. I snort. “Make me some shoes and I won’t steal yours.” I push a lock of hair out of the way. It’s still clean and shiny and smells good, but it’s also a wavy mess from drying in tangles. I need to braid it and get it out of the way. I try to sit cross-legged and my long leather skirt hinders my legs. Pants, too. I need pants. Pants, shoes and something to pull my hair back. “I don’t suppose there’s any coffee in this joint?” I ask him, knowing very well he can’t answer. “If you plan on keeping me captive, I’m going to be the most demanding, bitch-ass captive you have ever dealt with, so just be ready, barbarian dickhead.”
Raahosh moves into the cave and crouches near the fire, oblivious to my insults. He takes one of his bone knives and drags the point through the coals, stirring up the fire and making it higher, the flames flickering to life. Then, he moves to the back of the cave and grabs a few bricks of what I hope is peat and not poop. He adds them to the fire and stirs it again with his knife. All the while I watch him. I’m trying not to notice that when he walks, he’s got this graceful sort of movement, almost like a dancer. Or that his leggings are made out of some weird leather rigged together as if it’s attached to to a loin cloth, and it delineates some rather interesting equipment that I saw up close and personal yesterday. His leg muscles flex with inhuman beauty
as he squats near the fire again, and his tail thumps on the ground, flicking like an annoyed cat. Is he annoyed with me? Or does that mean something else?
“You are kind of like a cat, now that I think about it,” I tell him. “You’ve got a pissy tail, and I bet if I pet you, you purr. Ha. Now if I could only get you to go chase a mousie and leave me alone.”
His eyes narrow at me again.
“I’m talking about food,” I lie, keeping my expression bright. I pantomime eating. “How about some yum yums for my tum tum, Whiskers?”
He grunts and stands, and I swear I’m not creeping on him or those big, rock-hard thighs. I’m not. I’m not. He moves to the far side of the cave again, where he has a small pack of his belongings stored, and pulls out a waterskin. I’ve seen the type before. My dad used to love to go old school when he went hunting, and he had one very similar to this one. I reach out for it.
Raahosh gives it a little shake, letting the water slosh around the bottom. Then, he lifts it toward his mouth.
“You dick!” I say, outraged. “Are you fucking with me?”
Just before he’s about to take a swig, he looks down at me, and a devilish grin crosses his face.
I immediately start to purr, and my pulse begins to pound between my legs. Dammit, cootie, now is not the time.
“You are totally fucking with me,” I grumble, but he hands me the skin and then caresses my cheek, indicating that it’s all mine. I’m not amused by his playful side. I’m not. So not. I’m totally not smiling, either.
My lips are jerks because they’re not listening very well, though.
I drink down the water, a little disappointed that it’s not coffee, and save him some because I’m not a jerk. He sips it, then returns to the mouth of the cave, packs the now empty skin with snow and ties it shut, then hangs it off of a small ledge on the wall.
As I watch, he puts his boots on.
“Oooh, are we going hunting?” I say, excited. I straighten my clothing and get to my feet. “I used to help my dad with the hunting. I’m a great shot with a bow. Of course, I don’t have a bow right now but I’ve got good aim. If you can lead me to some wood, I can probably make one. I made one in shop class in high school you know.”
He says nothing, simply pulls on one boot, tightens the laces right under the knee so his entire lower leg is covered, and then repeats the motion. He grabs his spear, and then without a look back to me, heads outside.
I gape. That dick. He just totally ignored me and went hunting without me. Furious, I storm after him, barefoot….for about three feet. Then I give up because even the cootie can’t keep my toes warm. I shiver and head back into the cave, irritated with my captor.
If he thinks this is the way to woo me, his head is as broken as this so-called relationship.
I stomp my way back into the cave to sit by the fire and wait for my jerk of a captor to come back.
RAAHOSH
She’s a talker, my Liz. Even when she thinks I don’t understand her, she rambles and speaks, carrying on a one-sided conversation. It’s strange to me, as I’ve always been a silent one. Even my tribe jokes that I like
silence the best.
But…I don’t know that I do.
She mentioned hunting as I left the cave and seemed disappointed when I didn’t take her with me. Does my woman hunt? The thought is unusual to me. It’s not that our women are not capable, but they are so few and precious that we dare not risk them on a dangerous hunting trip. Perhaps when she has given in to the khui-bond between us, we will go on hunting trips together. We will track kills together, and bunk down in caves and make love during the long winter nights…
And Liz will yammer the entire time and scare off all the game.
The idea still fills me with joy. To think I can have a companion after so long. I have my tribe, but I have always felt…alone. On the outside. Perhaps it was because I never had a mate, or a lover. I assumed no one wanted me.
Then my spirits sink. No one wants me still. Liz does not. Angry with myself, I stab the butt of my spear into the snow and use it as a walking stick. She will change her mind. She must. I…don’t know what I will do if my own mate spurns me despite the khui in her breast.
The thought makes my very soul ache with loneliness.
The game is scarce near the sheet of ice, and it takes me a little time to find a meal that will be large enough for both of us. I sneak up on my prey and stab it in the throat before it can run. Then, I bleed the carcass and slit it from rump to throat because I don’t want the blood to clot before I can make it back to my mate. I take out the offal and use it as bait for a snare trap that I will check tomorrow. The rest of the tasty organs, I snack on as I jog back to the cave, since Vektal said the humans are picky and won’t eat the best parts of the kill.
When I return to the cave, the human’s hair is wet as if she’s bathed herself again. The waterskin is full of snow once more, and she’s sitting on the furs without her skirt on. I pause at the sight of one delicate bare flank, the curve of her buttock making my khui thrum mercilessly in my chest.
She shifts and delicately pulls the furs over her loins, hiding them from my view, and her face turns an
interesting shade of pink.
“So nice of you to return,” she says.
My heart thumps. Does she mean that? My cock is stiff and aching with the need to claim her, but her expression doesn’t say she is happy to see me. It’s confusing. Is this more of the human mating rituals I don’t understand?
Why did Vektal not tell us more about human courting? I’m at a loss.
I watch as my female uses a bone knife to punch a hole in her skirt. Actually, it’s not a skirt any longer – it looks as if she’s making leggings. That’s clever. Her hair is woven into a crown atop her head and I’m impressed at her ingenuity.
I’m also a little worried – I’m deliberately keeping her without shoes because I suspect she’ll leave the moment she has them. I’ll have to watch her closely.
A growl fills the cave, and for a moment I think it’s her khui…then I realize it’s her stomach. She’s hungry.
I move toward the fire and use a few twigs to create a spit. The humans like their meat burned, so I’ll do this for Liz. I skin the creature and notice that Liz is watching with interest. She’s not revolted like I thought she would be.
“Is that a porcupine?” She asks as I toss aside the skin of the quillbeast. “It looks like it mated with a cat and a platypus.”
I don’t know most of those words. I work on cutting long strips of the juiciest flesh off of the creature’s flanks and spear them on twigs so they can cook in the fire. She watches with interest, commenting occasionally.
“I can’t smell the food as much as I thought I’d be able to,” she says. “It’s weird. It’s like my nose is stuffed up but it’s not. I just can’t seem to smell things like I used to.” She lifts one arm and sniffs under it.
“Even my own BO is practically non-existent. Is it the cootie? Or a physiological sort of thing? Does a girl in the forest stink if there’s no one around to smell her?”
Her incoherent talk continues and I eventually take one of the strips off the fire, sniffing it. It looks awful…which probably means that it’s done. I hold it out to her, wanting to feed my mate.
She reaches for it, and before she can take it, I pull it away.
Liz frowns at me. “Really? Are we playing this game again?” She gives me a disgruntled look and puts her hand out.
Fine. I can just as easily examine my mate when her hands are full. I give it to her, and when she takes it, her hands are occupied. I lean in and put my fingers on her face, examining the blue of her eyes. Even though she tries to bat me away, I’m pleased with what I see – there’s a strong blue shining from her eyes, which tells me her khui is healthy. The resonance that starts in her chest at my touch tells me our bond is
bothering her as much as it is me.
Good.
I sit back on my heels and watch her nibble a piece of meat. She has a look of frustration on her face as she chews. “It doesn’t taste like anything.”
I eat another piece of raw meat and watch her. Her small, flat features screw up and she grabs another piece from one of the skewers, and takes it. “Why can’t I taste it?” She watches me as I take a raw piece of meat and pop it into my mouth. She licks her lips, and my cock responds as if she were licking it. My khui resonates fiercely, and hers responds. She ignores it and focuses on my food. “Can I try some of yours?”
She points at the raw meat I’ve been cutting off the kill. I’m surprised. Didn’t Vektal say his mate was squeamish about raw food? But Liz’s eyes are wide and curious, and she’s watching my mouth in a way that makes me imagine the two of us mating, my mouth pressed against her soft, pale skin.
I will give her anything she asks for. Anything. Everything.
I cut a thick, meaty chunk of flesh from the quillbeast for her. When she reaches for it, I brush her hand aside. If my mate wants my food, I will feed it to her. She gives me an irritated look when I try, but I’m used to that by now. After a moment, she dutifully opens her mouth, waiting for me to feed her.
A low groan of need escapes me.
She doesn’t open her eyes. “You are such a pervert,” she says in a husky voice and her mouth opens a little wider.
I delicately place the bit of meat between her lips. The thoughts I’m having about my mate are carnal and wrong, because I’m picturing her pink mouth moving over my skin, caressing the ridges along my arms and stomach…and then moving lower.
I’m not entirely sure if that’s done, but now that the image is in my mind, I can’t get rid of it. My cock strains behind my breechcloth, desperate to claim my mate.
She takes the meat and chews slowly, considering. Then she nods and opens her eyes. “Better. Much better. Now I see why you guys eat the raw stuff.” Her hand goes to my knee and she gives me a wide-eyed, innocent look I have seen on young kits trying to coax a parent. “Can I eat yours?” She points at the meat I’ve laid aside for my own meal.
And then to emphasize her point, her thumb strokes my knee.
I am being coerced by wide eyes and a simple touch. I know it’s all to manipulate me, but I find I don’t care. If she keeps her hand there, I will feed her every scrap of meat in the cave. I cut her another chunk and feed her again, fascinated by her small mouth working, the pleased expression on her face.
The hand on my knee. I’d give anything for it to be under my breechcloth, stroking my cock.
I feed her bit after bit, and she takes it from my hand, her own khui thrumming. I’ve forgotten all about food. My mate’s nearness has taken over all my senses.
Eventually she sighs and pats her stomach, and waves me away when I try to offer her another bite. I get up, though, to find the waterskin and offer it to her, so I can be close to her for a few minutes more. She drinks, her mouth wet and glistening, and I’m fascinated by it.
When I first saw the humans, I thought they were ugly, their faces strange, and their skin too soft. They have no hard ridges along their arms and chest like we do to protect muscle and organs. They have no horns or tail. They are utterly defenseless. Even her small face is different than my own people’s, with its flat forehead and pale hair unlike any color I have ever seen.
But it is burned into my dreams. Now, when I imagine happiness, I imagine her face. It doesn’t matter that she is different – she is mine and I am hers.
“You’re staring at me,” she says as she puts the waterskin down. “Always staring, dude.” She sighs a moment later, before I can look away. “I wish you spoke English so I could tell you how weird I find all of this.”
I feign ignorance and reach out to touch her face again.
“Newwwp,” she says, and I don’t recognize the word. It’s obviously a dismissal, though. She raises her hands and shakes her head. “Enough with the kissy-kissy stuff for now. We need to talk. Language lesson time.” She puts a hand to my chest. “Raahosh.”
I put a hand to her chest in the same spot. “Liz.”
Her face goes crimson and she slaps my hand away. “Not the boobs!”
What did I just do wrong? I reach for her again, and she slaps my hand away once more. Her khui is thrumming, and I see her nipples hardening under the thin leather of the tunic. Ah. This arouses her? Unable to help myself, I brush my fingers over one of her nipples.
She emits a shriek and slaps me across the face. “No means no, dickface!” Then she gets up and storms away.
I reel, touching my cheek. Her little smack on my jaw didn’t hurt, but I’m more stunned that she struck
me than anything.
She’s fierce, my Liz. I like that.
And if she thinks she’s going to scare me away with a slap on the cheek, she is very wrong. I grin to myself as she grabs the blankets and huffs away, deliberately turning her back to me. I can still hear her khui thrumming. It gives away how much she liked my touch — as does the scent of arousal on the air.
My mate’s arousal.
This must be more of the curious human mating rituals. Maybe that’s what newwwp means. I mentally repeat the word to myself so I can tell her the same thing at the appropriate time.
LIZ
Dumb, dumb Liz. Your communication skills need some serious work, I tell myself. I put my hand flat on his chest and said his name. He knew my name, though. He gritted it out between those big fangs when he stroked himself off.
I’m not getting hot thinking about that. I’m not. I’m not. I slap my chest to make sure my khui is listening.
So of course he put his hand on my tits. It’s the same spot, just on me. Except I forgot how sensitive my body is thanks to the cootie, and I nearly leapt out of my skin at his touch. I might have freaked a bit. Just a bit. Because one more touch after that nipple grab? I’d have been shucking my barbarian version of panties– Oh wait, that’s right. I don’t have any.
I’m pantsless under the blankets, my half-finished skirt-now-pants still needing more stitches. My hand is desperate to press between my legs and relieve my need…except I know it won’t. And I don’t know what I’ll do if he grabs himself and starts stroking his ginormous cock again. I don’t trust my cootie-crazy self to not just, like, shimmy on up to him and start tonguing him everywhere and anywhere. Oh, is that your ear? My bad, it’s so sexy. That elbow, too. And dig those eyebrows. They’re just begging to be licked.
Actually I’m so horny that even the thought of a good eyebrow licking is making me wet. Then the word ‘horny’ makes it worse, because now I’m picturing his big horns and what it’d feel like if I licked those. Or, you know, straddled one and rubbed my girl parts on it for a bit.
Stop it, Liz! You suck!
I do suck. I sigh. I need a game plan. The longer I’m in this cave with no one but Raahosh and my cootie, the harder it is to deny the urgings my body is singing with. I need a plan of escape. I’m not sure where to go, but I know I can’t stay here. I mentally catalog the things I’ll need for survival. Food. Drink. Weapons.
Shoes. Warm clothing. Shelter.
My dad and I used to go on hunting trips back in Oklahoma, back before he died. I know how to build a fire. I know not to drink the yellow snow. I’ve got clothing and these blankets will do just fine as wraps to keep the coldest winds out. I know how to hunt, so food can be had if I have a weapon. Shelter might be tricky but I can’t plan for that, really. I just have to hope for the best.
I’m really down to shoes and weapons. I can make shoes with leather from my pants and one of the blankets here – I just need to do it when Raahosh is out hunting so he won’t notice.
As for weapons…I could steal Raahosh’s spear, I suppose, but it’s huge and heavy, and my muscles are wimpy. I don’t know that I’d be effective with it. What I really need is a bow. If I had a bow, I’d be able to rock this survival shit. I’ve got mad skills with a bow and arrow.
So. Shoes first, then I can look for stuff to make a bow. Once I have a bow, I can get away out into the wild white yonder.
And do what? Not entirely sure, but it’s a plan. Sometimes all you can do is run with what you’ve got.
RAAHOSH
My mate’s too quiet.
Liz, who talks endlessly even though she knows I can’t understand her, Liz, who would talk to a stone if it had ears, Liz, who even talks in her sleep — is silent. She awoke from her nap with a cunning look in her glowing blue eyes, and watches me as I prepare to go hunting again.
I’m out for most of the day, getting food for my mate, and when I return, she’s still silent, but her mood is pleasant. She lets me feed her raw bits of food and doesn’t even push me away when I caress her cheek.
I sense a trap.
But she yawns sweetly and smiles at me when she crawls back to the furs for sleep, and I’m drawn to her anyhow, my khui thrumming with need and want. Is this…part of the human mating ritual? Do I tell her newwwwp now? Will she fall into my arms and part her legs for me so we can mate and become one?
I have no experience in this. I lay down in the bed with her, unable to stop from caressing the shoulder and back turned in my direction.
She flicks my hand away, and oddly enough, that makes me feel better. That is familiar. I wait until she goes to sleep, and then I drift off as well.
Sometime just before dawn, I feel her small form tense next to mine.
I keep my breathing even so I don’t alert her to the fact that I’m awake. I’m curious to see what she’s going to do. Run? Try to kill me? This isn’t like before when she rolled out of bed and smacked her lips noisily before heading out to relieve herself. This time, she’s trying to be sneaky. She slowly, carefully removes my hand from her waist and lays it flat on the furs. Then she carefully peels the furs back and wiggles her way out, trying not to disturb me as I ‘sleep’. When she’s out of the furs, she looks over at me, but I’m still feigning, my eyes closed, breathing peaceful. Satisfied, I hear her take a few steps away and I open my eyes a slit, peering at her through my lashes.
She’s moving to the corner of the cave, and as I watch, she takes my boots and slides them onto her smaller legs. I watch as she rolls the leather up to her thigh and then secures it with the ties, and the picture is breathtaking in its eroticism…despite my curiosity as to what she’s doing. My cock’s hard as stone by the time she puts my other boot on. My khui hasn’t stopped thrumming all night due to her nearness, and the ache in my body is becoming a palpable thing. I need to possess my mate.
She looks at my spear, considers it, and then glances back at me to see if I’m still asleep.
I remain still, waiting to see what she does.
Liz turns away and pads out of the cave on quiet feet, my spear in her hand.
Well, now I have to see what is going through her mind. I roll from the bed and decide to follow a safe distance behind. The snow’s cold on my feet, but I ignore it. My skin’s used to the harsh conditions and I can stand a little ice, unlike her fragile human flesh. I notice she’s also finished her leggings while I was gone. I
admire the curve of her bottom as she moves through the snow, clearly struggling in my larger shoes. The snow near the ice wall is up to my knee, and goes to her hips. She mutters unhappy words in her human language as she struggles forward, every footfall sinking into the powder. Perhaps she’ll get tired and turn around.
But my human is made of sterner stuff, and I suppress a smirk as she struggles onward, muttering human words under her breath that I can’t quite catch.
To my surprise, she heads for the distant trees. Is she hungry? The leaves are inedible, and the bark is only medicinal, good when steeped in hot water for long hours and left to soak overnight. Curious, I follow a safe distance behind. What is she up to?
I wish the khui let me read her thoughts, because my human mate is impossible to understand.
LIZ
There are trees not too far from our hidey hole. I make a beeline for them, slugging through the heavy snow. I have to be fast, because if Raahosh discovers that I’m gone, he’s going to lose it. I’m not trying to escape — not yet. I’m looking for materials for a bow. I need some elastic sort of material for the string, but rawhide will do if I can twist it into a tough, flexible cord. Raahosh has been saving the pelts from our kills, and I have plans for them. I can even make a string from fibers or even my own goddamn braided hair if I have to – I’ll figure something out.
But I haven’t seen a lot of material that would make a good bow itself. It has to be a long length of something wood-like. It needs to flex a bit, and bend, but not too much.
I spent a lot of time studying Raahosh’s spear, because it’s nearly seven feet long and has a bit of flex to it, but it’s too heavy for what I need. I need lighter, stronger.
So I trudge through the snow, heading for the trees. They don’t look like any sort of regular tree that I know of. For one, they look more like eyelashes or feathers than actual trees. They whip back and forth in the bitter winter winds, and the leaves look like pinkish, fluttering floss. Still, they’re the closest thing I can think of to wood, so I head toward them.
I make it to the trees and the snow shallows out a bit, which is nice. It makes it easier to trudge along, and I head for the first tree, running my hand along the bark. At least, I think it’s bark. But it feels spongy and slightly sticky, which squicks me out. The trunk itself is maybe as thick as a can of soda, and as another breeze rises, it flaps and flutters in the wind. Damn it. This probably won’t work. I use the big stone spearhead on Raahosh’s spear to cut into the side of the bark. Maybe if I get past the bark, the core itself is solid and usable?
But as I saw into the wood (and really, calling it that might be a joke), it just seems to get more gelatinous and mushy, and begins to ooze pink stuff that smells terrible and sticks to my fingers. I wipe my
hands on the snow and wrinkle my nose.
That is not going to work for a bow.
I sigh and stare around me, miserable. There has to be something on this damn ice planet that will function as a bow. Seriously. I know that Raahosh and Vektal’s people are super low-tech due to being as stranded here as we are, but come on. Bows are basic.
Then again, I haven’t seen anyone here with a bow, either. They all had slings, spears, and knives.
Dammit.
I haven’t been gone that long, so I trudge onward in a straight line. I’m not sure where I’m heading off to but fuck it. There’s a big giant glacier of ice behind me that I know the cave is at the base of. I’ll just follow it home if I get lost. I crest a hill or two when I see…something. I trudge through the snow a bit more – while it’s nippy, it’s not bone-chilling cold like it was before, and I know my cootie’s probably the one to thank for that. It’s adjusting my body to the environment, adapting me.
I’m still a little bitter about that shit, no matter the benefits. I can’t smell like I used to, I can’t taste things like I used to, and it’s matchmaking me with the surliest alien imaginable.
With the biggest junk. Not that I’m thinking about that. Dammit. Or his hand slowly stroking down the length of it, taunting me.
My cootie immediately starts purring, jiggling my breasts with the force of its intensity. “God, cootie, you are such an asshole!” I tell it, thumping my chest again to try and make it calm down. Not that it works, but I do it anyhow.
Then I pause, because in the distance I see a dark, threading line in the snow. Curious, I step toward it, and as I get closer, I realize that it’s a stream of some kind. There are some pole-type bamboo looking things sticking out of the water. They look lightweight and stiff. I wonder if I could use them? Encouraged, I slog forward. I can check it out, haul one out of the water, and then head home before Raahosh wakes up. I’ll hide my prize in the snow at the mouth of the cave and he’ll never know that I’m secretly constructing myself a nice, handy weapon so I can escape his ass.
The suns are coming up on the far side of the sky, leaking a milky-pale color into the world that will never be bright enough to melt the snow. Even though there’s two of them, they’re such small lights in the sky I imagine that Not-Hoth (as I’ve taken to calling the planet) is a lot further out in its solar system than Earth is from the sun. Maybe that’s why it’s always so cold here. When I get to the stream, I can smell a faint hint of rotten eggs in the air – sulfur. It’s a hot spring, which explains why it’s running water and not a block of ice.
Georgie mentioned seeing others when she was traveling with Vektal. I should be glad that it’s warm enough, because otherwise this planet would be that much more inhospitable.
The banks of the stream are muddy but smooth, and I slide down to the edge of the water. The scent of sulfur is thicker here, but the water is blue and pretty. I wonder if I should swim. The bamboo shoots are at least ten feet tall and push out of the water like random toothpicks and I lean over the blue water, reaching for the closest one. I’ll pull it out and see just how sturdy the material is. If it’s lightweight like I think it will be, it might just work— “LIZ!” A familiar voice bellows, and I slide forward on the bank, almost into the water.
Raahosh. And he almost made me do a face plant into the stream, that jerk. “Can you not fucking yell at me when I’m standing over the water? I—“ I gasp, my angry words dying in my throat. There’s a horrible face with bulging eyes and big, jagged teeth on the other end of my stick. It looks like one of those monstrous creatures from the deep, dark parts of the ocean—except it’s about a foot away from my face.
A scream rips from my throat and I stagger backward, clutching my bamboo.
The creature comes along with the end of the bamboo, to my shock. It sticks to the end of it, thrashing and splashing wildly.
I scream again, and fling it onto the snow. It hisses and starts moving toward me, and I glance around, looking for Raahosh’s spear. It’s a few feet away, where I must have flung it. Meanwhile, the thing thrashes and hisses on the far end of the bamboo, it’s mouth snapping angrily in my direction.
Something big appears out of the corner of my eye, and I watch as Raahosh stalks toward the thing I’ve pulled out of the water, blade in hand. He looks extremely pissed off as he grabs the thing by one of its flinging flipper-things and slams it to the ground. Then, with an ease that astonishes me, he slams his knife into its eye.
The thing’s flippers flail, blood spurts onto the white snow, and then it stops moving. As I stare, wide- eyed, he glances over at me and flings his blade to the ground, then stalks toward me.
I crab-walk backward a few feet. “I didn’t know! Like I was supposed to know one of those things was attached to the end of the bamboo? All I wanted were some supplies!” My babbling doesn’t make him pause an inch. Of course not. He can’t understand me. My fast talking is futile.
The big alien stalks toward me as if I’m his prey. I scoot backward again, terrified — and a little aroused by the hard look in his eyes. My cootie immediately starts thrumming as he looms over me, to my horror and
chagrin, and my nipples get hard.
Fucking cootie.
His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow as he gazes down at me.
“I’m not turned on,” I say in a shaky voice, even though I can feel my blood pulsing and thrumming in my veins, my cootie purring in my chest. I’m a shitty, shitty liar. I want nothing more than to reach between my legs and stroke my clit again. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Maybe it’s the way he’s gazing down at me as if he can’t decide if he wants to rip my clothing off or turn me over and spank me. Both mental images make me a little crazy.
Whatever it is, my body is acutely aware of him, and the cootie is going wild. I’m panting as I sit in the snow, and I realize a moment later that my legs are sprawled open.
I watch as his nostrils flare. A low moan escapes my throat. Why is that so fucking hot? God, I hate this cootie.
“Liz,” he growls, the word feral in his throat.
“I totally don’t want you,” I pant, my cootie purring so loud it practically drowns me out. “My cootie is full of lies.”
He reaches a big hand down to me, to help me up.
I slap it away, annoyed at both him and myself for being all aroused after nearly getting my face eaten by a stream-Cthulhu-on-a-stick. “Go away.”
Angry, he bends down and grabs at the front of my shirt. I know he’s about to haul me upright since I won’t take his help, but the moment his face nears mine?
I lose all sensibility. I grab him by the one horn jutting from his brow, my fingers curling around the broken stump of the other, and I drag his face toward me for a kiss. I’m sure I’ll regret it later, but right now, my hormones are singing and my body desperately wants his mouth on mine. I barely hear his small gasp as I take his lower lip between my teeth and gently bite down.
Raahosh makes a low, rasping groan in his throat, and then he mashes his mouth against mine.
It’s clear the guy doesn’t know how to kiss. That’s okay – my cootie’s purring so hard I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to. A soft whimper escapes my throat, and then I begin to show him how a kiss works. My lips caress his, slow and sensual. He freezes against me, his big hands down along my sides, his body looming over mine, and he’s stiff and unyielding. So I continue to coax him with my mouth. “This is how you kiss, big guy,” I murmur between pecks of my mouth against his, letting my lips caress the hard line of his mouth.
For a long moment, he’s tense above me, and then his lips part, letting me in. I slick my tongue over the seam of his mouth, and it brushes against his fangs, a reminder that he’s an alien. I shiver, and start to pull away.
That’s when Raahosh kisses me back. At first hesitant, his movements grow bolder when my tongue meets his, and I make needy little noises in the back of my throat. His tongue has bumps on it, much like the ridges that cover his body. It drags over my own tongue, sending unique sensations skyrocketing through my body. Oh…wow. Georgie didn’t mention this. She didn’t mention anything even remotely close to this. I wonder if he’s got the amazing bumps in other fun locations.
He’s taking to kissing well, his lips caressing mine and then his tongue dragging against my own, until my cootie is rumbling so loud that I can barely think, and it feels as if my entire torso is vibrating with need. My pussy aches with a similar need, and I feel, for a moment, as if I might die if he doesn’t touch me soon. I break away from him, panting.
He immediately captures my mouth with his again. His tongue flicks against mine, a silent question.
“I don’t want this,” I breathe, even as I grab his horns and drag his mouth against mine once more. My moans of pure delight are swallowed against his tongue, and I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling him stiffen against me in surprise. “I totally don’t want you tonguing me,” I hiss at him, and then proceed to tongue his mouth all over, like a wild woman.
Raahosh breaks away from my kiss and stares down at me, eyes as feral as I feel. He leans in and captures my mouth in another breathtaking kiss, and I nearly lose my mind when he sucks on my upper lip. This man is a fast learner. Maybe too fast. I feel as if I’m losing control of the situation.
Of course, I’m assuming I ever had control of the situation.
I pull my mouth away from his again, and I drag one of his hands from the snow to my breast. “I don’t want you to touch this,” I tell him, fierce and just a little bit angry. Truth is, I am angry as much as I’m aroused. I’m not sure if this is me or the cootie, but I know I can’t stop. And when he squeezes my breast through the thick fabric of the borrowed tunic, I fling my head back and moan again, my hips undulating against the snow.
I need him so bad. It’s like my body has been half asleep and now that we’re touching, I’m alive. My senses are awakened, and my body is singing— And I need sex like I need air.
He rubs his thumb over my nipple through the leather, and my breath hisses from my throat. That should not feel that good. It should not. And yet, I want more than just that. He bares his teeth in a snarl, and I gasp at the sight of those sharp fangs. I must be sick in the head, because they’re arousing to me, too, and I give his head a little push.
“I don’t want you to lick my pussy,” I tell him, nudging him lower to emphasize just what it is I want despite my words. It’s okay, anyhow, because I’m babbling like a crazy person. “I don’t want your mouth on me at all,” I tell him, even when I lift my hips and use one hand to start to pull my newly-made pants down.
Even though he can’t understand me, he gets the idea, and his hands go to my pants, pulling them down to my knees. He gives me a hot look that makes me melt, and my nipples feel like hard, aching points of agony under the leather. They’re dying to be touched, so I reach up and toy with them myself. My cootie’s humming so hard my entire body feels as if it’s vibrating, and I’m hurting with need.
My pants get caught up around my knees and he jerks at them for a moment, frustrated. Then, he grabs the fabric and hauls my legs forward, pressing them against my chest. My ass sticks out into the snow and
I’m bare from my waist to my knees.
And trapped.
I suck in a breath and wait.
Raahosh stares down at me, at the pink part of my flesh that I imagine is slick with moisture and feels as if it’s throbbing with aching need. He looks up at me, his glowing blue eyes slitted, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Then, I feel him touch me. His fingers trace over my sensitive folds, exploring me.
I nearly weep with how intense it feels. Breath shudders from my throat, and I make a low, keening sound. I want more than just that exploratory touch. I want — no, crave the feel of his mouth on me. “I don’t want your mouth on me,” I grit out, even as I tug my legs forward so he can get a better look at what I’m presenting. “Not at all.”
Raahosh ignores the lies I’m spewing and studies me for a long moment. I watch his nostrils flare, and he runs his finger up and down my folds again. I cry out and buck against him, and when he pulls his big hand back, it’s gleaming with my juices. He studies his wet thumb and fingers, and then brings them to his mouth for a taste.
“Oh goddamn, that was dirty. You are so dirty,” I tell him, hotter and more turned on than ever.
He licks his fingers with an almost reverent expression on his face, as if the taste of me is better than the finest chocolate. And that just makes me quiver with lust, seeing his delicious, big, bumpy tongue scraping over those fingers, licking them clean. It’s driving me crazy, just watching him lick his hand. It should be me he’s licking.
Wait, no it shouldn’t. “I totally don’t want any of this,” I spit out at him, furious with myself and him for my body’s fierce need. “I don’t want you. I don’t want your mouth on my pussy, licking me until I come.” The very thought makes me shudder with how intense the visual image is.
And because I don’t want it so bad, I reach between my legs and spread my pussy lips for him to see.
I watch as his eyes flare with need, and then his head pushes between my legs. I feel his big hands bracing my thighs, separating them, and I feel the jagged, homemade seams on my pants give under the stress of my spreading legs. Don’t care. Raahosh pushes my thighs apart and gazes down at my spread, slick pussy. I feel scorching hot, aching and swollen. I’m about to touch myself when he bats my hand aside and
then drags his tongue over my flesh.
A scream bursts from my lips.
Oh my God.
I grab his horn and the stem of the other one and push his face against my heated skin. I’m wild with urgency, and when his tongue – God bless that bumpy, bumpy tongue – swipes over my skin, I scream again. I drag my hips up and down even as he grunts and licks at me with his mouth, his own desire as intense as my own. His tongue is moving everywhere, licking and pushing against my softest parts, and I feel it flicking over my clit with every lapping taste. Then, he nuzzles my clit.
He nuzzles it.
And I come so hard I’m seeing stars. My cries echo in the snow, and I’m grinding my sex against his face, working every last bit of my orgasm out from under him. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that I’m using his horns like a steering wheel, driving his mouth this way and that, demanding more from him. He’s all too eager to comply and lick me into oblivion. I keep coming with every flick of that tongue over my sensitive parts, until I feel a second orgasm ripping through me, and I’m practically writhing on the ground, my juices covering his face.
When I come down, I collapse in the snow, wheezing. My cootie rattles a bit, and then settles into a softer thrum, temporarily content.
Raahosh’s cootie is grumbling so hard it sounds like a motor, though, and when he licks me again, I push his face away, because I’m too sensitive right now for another round. “Not yet,” I whimper. “I can’t.”
He looks up at me, his face feral, eyes glowing with an unholy light. His hard, sexy mouth is wet with the taste of me, and as I watch, he bares his fangs and gives me a look that makes my nipples perk all over again.
“Mine,” he growls, and buries his face between my legs again.
He begins to lick me again, and I squeal. I lie back, ready to be all his like he just said and— Wait a fucking moment. Was that English?
I sit up on my elbows and stare down at the alien licking me out. “What did you just say?”
