I groan and pull her close, burying my face between her legs. I barely hear her little gasp as I hold her hips, my tongue seeking out the folds hidden by the tiny thatch of hair between her legs. Wetness blooms on my tongue and then I have the taste of her in my mouth - tart, musky, sweet.
This is what I have needed.
I swipe my tongue over her folds and she cries out, leaning heavily against me. I do not want her to harm her hands, so I tug on her legs, indicating she should join me on the floor, but my mouth never leaves her cunt. I want to remain here forever.
Through awkward motions and tangling of limbs, I manage to get her on the floor, on her back, and from here, I can taste her to my heart’s desire. I drag my tongue over the tender, wet folds, exploring her. She is soft here, so soft. The well of her cunt is scorching hot, and I dip my tongue there, unable to resist. She writhes against me, making soft whimpering noises and panting. I love the sounds, almost as much as I love her taste. I can feel her khui singing, all through her body.
I stroke my tongue over her folds again and then discover the third nipple that the other males have mentioned when discussing their human mates. She has a tiny nub, half-hidden in the slick petals of her cunt. When my tongue grazes it, she cries out. I do not know if it is a good cry or a bad cry, so I lick downward instead.
“Go back,” she begs, frantic need in her voice. “I’m so close!”
So it is a good cry. I return and begin to work the nipple once more. I roll it against the tip of my tongue and then lick it, trying to determine the way she likes the most. Her little cries grow more frantic as I circle it with my tongue, so I continue to do so, lost in the pleasure of giving her this. My breechcloth is stuck to my body, and I am positive that I have come already, but it does not matter. Nothing matters except this.
Her body arches and she cries out, and more wetness floods into my mouth. She’s coming. I groan and lap it up, my khui singing with fierce intensity. It will have to wait for another time. For now, my Jo-see is pleasured and I am content.
I continue to taste her and nuzzle against her folds as she rocks against my face, her movements slowing. Finally, she gives a gusty sigh and then all of the tension seems to leave her body. When I lick her again, she squirms. “You can stop now, Haeden. I came.”
Stop? I never want to stop. I could live with my face buried between her sweet thighs. But I lift my head, because pleasing her is more important than what I want. I sit up next to her and lick my lips. And then lick them again, because I can taste her on my skin and already I crave more.
She presses the back of a hand to her forehead and a small laugh bubbles up inside her. “I think we forgot about bathing.”
“We did not forget,” I say. “You were distracted.”
She kicks at me playfully.
I cannot help the grin that curves my mouth. She’s smiling, some of the tension that she carries vanished. Her naked body is a glorious sight to see, and I drink it in, still hungry for her.
Her gaze slides to me. “Thank you.”
Why is she thanking me? I gave her a mate’s due. But I don’t want to argue, so I simply nod.
“What…what about you?”
“I finished as well.” If we are being honest, there is no sense in hiding it. Oddly enough, I feel no shame this time. Is it because she clearly enjoyed my tasting her? And when she nods and dismisses it as if it is nothing, I realize there is no shame to be had, only pleasure between us.
I pick up my cloth and dip it into the water, determined to finish bathing my mate.
14
JOSIE
I curl up in the blankets near the fire and watch Haeden as he works. I’m sleepy, clean, and well pleasured, and my hands are tightly bound again with more numbing cream. Behind me, deep in the ship, there’s some old dead bodies and in the wall are two strangers who are waiting for their chance to be freed. These things are important, I’m sure, but I’m more interested in watching Haeden’s movements and contemplating our situation.
I might be obsessing - just a little - over the oral sex from earlier. And who can blame me? It was amazing. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in enthusiasm. I came so hard my toes curled. And maybe I’m sending mixed signals all over the place, but I couldn’t help it. The way he was looking at me made me want to push the boundaries.
So I’d pushed. And I’d gotten rewarded with the most intense orgasm ever.
I tuck the blankets closer around my body and watch him as he bends over the fire. He’s doing a myriad of things - smoking some meat for travel, sharpening his blades, and making sure the fire stays nice and hot. He’s got hot tea warming in the pouch, and off to one side there’s a freshly-scraped skin rolled up, waiting to be finished. I’ll say one thing for Haeden - he’s not lazy. Nor does he expect me to do anything. If it were up to him, I’d sit around and let him pamper me all day while he works.
It’s kind of nice. It’s also kind of messing with my head.
I don’t hate the guy anymore. I can’t. Not after hearing the reason why he’s been so standoffish. He’s been afraid. I can’t even blame him for that - he’s been living in a state of fear, worried that what happened to his last mate is going to happen to me. And haven’t I been doing the same thing? I’ve been worried sick about bringing a child into the world and forcing it to grow up unloved and miserable like I did.
I think now we’re starting to realize that both of us are wrong. Maybe, just maybe this thing between us can end up working out. I’m cautiously optimistic.
I’m also an utter horn-ball because as he leans over the fire, I think about him being a virgin. I think about him making sure I orgasm and taking nothing for himself. I want to turn the tables on him and do the same for him, actually. I want to see how he reacts if I touch him. If I lick him the way he licked me. The thought makes me give a little shiver and my cootie starts up again. I might not be ready to seal the deal on this resonance thing, but I’m down with exploring a little.
Of course, I can’t do anything right now with my hands like they are, but I can use my imagination.
He looks up and catches me staring. His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
He grunts a response, and when I don’t say anything, he looks over at me again. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to tell me what you are thinking?”
Oh. I don’t want to tell him I’m thinking about giving him a blow-job so I cast about for another topic. “Do you like children?”
Haeden looks at me like I’m asking the world’s stupidest question, and okay, I can’t blame him. I just asked a man who comes from a slowly dying tribe who had very few children prior to the arrival of humans. Of course children are prized.
“I just…I want a lot of kids,” I said. “When I settle down, I want a big family. I never had one, you know? So I always dreamed about having tons of babies and just filling my house with them. Like five or six or even eight kids. I’d be down with that. You?”
“That is a lot of mouths to feed.”
I feel weirdly crushed at his response. “I…guess it is.”
He scrapes at his knife, not looking me in the eye. “Then it is lucky for you that I am an excellent hunter.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “That is lucky.”
For the first time, I let myself picture Haeden as my mate. He’d come home after a long day of hunting and I’d have a baby – or two! – at my feet. He’d set down his spears, head in and give me a kiss, then scoop up a child in his arms. We’d talk about his day, I’d feed my family and we’d enjoy our time in our cozy cave. After the babies were put to bed, we’d spend the night snuggling and making more babies.
I imagine Haeden with a baby in his arms and feel curiously melty. He’d be a good dad, I decide. Firm but fair. And doting, I add as he picks up a tea cup and brings it to my lips so I can sip at it without hurting my hands. When I’m done drinking, I think about the mental image again. A kiss. We haven’t kissed yet. Before, I thought it was because he didn’t care, but I suspect it’s because he doesn’t know how.
I add it to my list of things to practice, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like I have something to look forward to.
* * *
We spend the rest of the day in pleasant idleness in the cave. Haeden stays busy with chores, but he also introduces me to a game called ‘story spinning’ that he says they play with the kits back home, when the snows get too high. The game works with someone being given a topic, and the story-spinner must come up with a storyline to go with whatever words are offered to him. It’s kind of like a verbal mad libs, and we spend a lot of time trying to trip each other up. To my surprise, Haeden’s got a sharp wit and even my goofiest stories manage to make him crack a few smiles. I teach him ‘I Spy’ and we play that long into the afternoon, until the suns set and the cold sucks all the fun out of the evening, and even the fire can’t keep me warm.
Then, Haeden crawls into the furs with me and pulls me against his chest, and I spend the rest of the evening cuddling with him. My cootie hums urgently, wanting more, but I do my best to ignore it. I won’t think of the bath, either. Tomorrow will be the day, I tell it. Be patient until tomorrow.