“Oh, but I’ve only got four of them,” I tell him with a soft protest. “That’s not a lot of hunting.”
“We have spears and knives as well. You can learn more ways to hunt,” he says, voice low and tender as he carefully puts my bow and arrows aside. “Come and undress for bed, my mate.”
I should have protested that I wasn’t his mate, but all that comes out is a yawn. “I can sleep in my clothes.”
“Not if we are sleeping as mates,” he murmurs. “This is what you have promised to me.”
So I did. I’m too sleep-drowsy to protest, and I don’t realize just how exhausted I am until he stands me up and my legs feel like Jell-O. When Raahosh leans me against him and begins to undo the laces at the neck of my tunic, I realize he’s warm and oddly soft, despite the hard protective ridges along his arms, chest, and other parts of his body.
My hand goes to his pectorals and I rub them under his vest. “You’re soft,” I murmur. Touching him is like touching…suede or doe-hide. There’s a fine layer of fur on his skin that I didn’t notice until now, but it’s soft and oh-so-warm and I can’t stop petting him. I actually don’t mind the thought of sleeping naked against him if he feels like this.
My cootie purrs an agreement, the little whore.
“Arms up.” His voice is a soft rasp, and I sleepily raise both of them before I can stop to think. In the next moment, my tunic whisks over my head and then I’m topless in front of him. My cootie’s humming in my breast, and my nipples harden, even as I yawn again. “Pants,” he says, and he’s not grabbing at me or making me feel weird, so I obediently step out of them and hand over the clothing. I watch with sleepy eyes as he turns away and carefully folds my things, setting them nearby. Then, with his back to me, he begins to undress.
That gets my attention. I watch his arms flex as he undoes the laces in the front of his chest and then removes his own tight-fitting tunic. Then he’s down to his tall boots and his breechcloth. I’m totally creeping on him at this point, watching his ass flex as he undoes the ties on his breechcloth and it slides to the ground. He steps out of it, lifting one leg with casual grace, and I see the sway of his balls from between his legs. Then his ass flexes again and his tail lashes, and I just stare.
Why is a tail sexy to me? Why does the sight of it flicking over that taut ass do terrible, nasty things to my girl parts? He glances over his shoulder at me, and the look is so heated, I get all aroused and squirmy. I’m not sure if us being naked together is a good idea, but I also don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.
And…I kinda don’t want to.
He turns to face me again and his cock juts forward from his body, long and obvious. He’s completely erect, and I try not to stare at his different anatomy. I’m no virgin, but Raahosh has a monstrously huge dick, and to top it off, it seems to have…ridges along the top, the bumpy, rough plated areas like his arms and chest have.
That will either feel really awesome or really awful.
I frown as I stare at the blunted horn a few inches above his cock. I remember it from last time, but the sight of it baffles me as much with a second viewing. “What’s that for?”
He steps forward and his hand caresses it in a way that makes me feel filthy with lust. “My spur?” He shrugs. “It is part of my body.”
“Yes, but does it have a purpose? I mean, other than to freak out Earth girls?”
Raahosh takes my hand and moves me toward the nest of furs. “Do your men not have such things?”
“Yeah, that’s a big no.”
“Do I frighten you? Is that why you turn me away?” He looks almost hopeful.
Weird. “I’m not scared of you.”
His expression blackens. “Then you turn me away for other reasons.”
“Reasons like, oh hey, it’s not my choice? That’s enough reason for me.” I thump to the blankets and slide into them, scooting to the far edge of the nest. The blankets make a nice, snuggly bed, but they don’t make a very large one.
He doesn’t get into bed next to me, and I hike the covers up to conceal my breasts, suddenly embarrassed. I’m the only one, because he squats next to the bed and studies me, and his cock sticks out like a third leg as he rubs his chin and muses. I try not to make eye contact with, ahem, his small head.
“Is it because I am ugly?” he asks after a long moment. “Is that why you hate being mated to me?” He rubs the scars on the side of his face thoughtfully.
I frown up at him. “You’re not ugly.”