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.”