Page 18

Kala

There is a look on Iris’s face that despite what I’ve come to expect it to mean—that she is happy—there is a devious element to it.

Which makes me believe I am going to regret—in some way—whatever she has planned.

She presses her lips to my mouth slit. Having learned my lesson from the last time, I do nothing but let Iris give me whatever kiss this is.

I expect her to be done after several moments, but she is not.

There is caution in her touch, but she softly bites at me with her blunt human teeth.

I would never have believed being bitten—even as gently as she does—would bring me to the edge of control.

My cock aches with the need to bury itself between her tender thighs.

This must be her plan. To tempt and tease me until I give in. I cannot.

My head says this, but my body says something different, because I carefully part my mouth slit.

Just barely, but enough that it feels as though I too am participating and not just a passive recipient.

It is not quite the way Iris kisses, but it is most likely as close as I will be able to get.

It will have to be enough. I don’t dare risk hurting her again.

She does not give me her tongue like last time, but moves her kisses from my mouth slit—after a final nip with her teeth—to the small indentation beneath it, then to the base of each mouth claw.

She continues along my jaw, nibbling as she goes until she returns to my mouth slit.

With each bit of flesh she kisses, my cock grows harder and leaks seed.

My hands find their way to her hips. I grip her tighter and the tips of my claws press against her rear.

I measure how tightly I hold her so I do not puncture her tender skin.

Iris presses herself harder into me and the pebbled tips of the mounds on her chest dig into my own chest. She rubs herself against me and the heat of her cunt warms my thigh.

The scent of her arousal fills our tent and I already know sleep will elude me, because I will breathe it in the whole night.

My control hangs by a short tether and if I let Iris continue, I will forget all about our kit and skinning the dreri and, instead, throw her down into my furs and bury my cock so deep inside her, she will not know where she ends and where I begin. We will become one and I cannot let that happen.

“We must stop, Iris.” I nearly beg.

At first she does not respond, but continues her intoxicating kisses.

“Iris.” It takes all of my strength to draw away from her.

She stares up at me with hooded lids and shiny lips. She stumbles slightly as though she has been drinking the special brew made by the Tavikhi elders. I hold her until she has steadied herself and her eyes gain their focus. Her mouth is swollen as if she has been stung by a swarm of mushkanja.

“You are not sleeping on the ground outside.” Without another word, she exits the tent.

I remain where I am until my swollen cock softens enough that I am not entirely uncomfortable which takes far longer than I wish.

Finally, I adjust myself and step outside to breathe in fresh air that is not comprised of my almost mate’s arousal.

Except it lingers. I follow the scent until I come upon Iris seated next to Sorin who is showing her how to remove the innards of the dreri.

Her flesh is pale, but she studies our kit’s technique and listens intently to his instructions.

At my approach, she glances up at me, but immediately turns her gaze to what Sorin is doing.

Doing my best to ignore her, I pick up one of the kills and get to work.

Several of the elders have joined the warlords who brought back the prey and they talk amongst themselves.

While not a difficult task, it does require a little bit of concentration.

I keep glancing over at Iris who has been given her own blade and is hard at work skinning and prepping her own small dreri.

I pause my own task and observe her technique.

She impresses me with her ability to adapt her hold on things using her incomplete arm.

Her pace is slower, but I can tell it is not only because she is new at this and needs to make adjustments, but also because she works to be precise.

Even if she is not. There is no hastiness to her work.

Almost like she is striving for perfection.

Has that been her life previously? Constantly trying to be perfect to make up for what she lacks, even if she is the only one who thinks that way?

Then again, from what Iris has said about her former planet, the people did treat her as lacking.

I am grateful then that she is no longer there.

It is clear she was not appreciated or looked at the way Sorin or I look at her.

“You are distracted.” Moshi stands over me.

“If your beautiful almost-mate sat so near to you, would you not be as well?”

He lowers himself to sit at my side. “You have not made her your mate yet?”

“We decided to wait until Iris made her home here in the village before we had a mating ceremony. Although we will not be mates in any further ways beyond that aside from some small displays of human affection.”

Moshi stares at me. “You believe Krijese and humans cannot mate in all ways.”

“How many stolen females died? All of them and not only because they sacrificed themselves. The ones who did not and attempted to birth a Krijese kit died as well, along with the kit. No matter if it was right after birth or within a few turns. Not a single one survived and the only explanation is because our seed is not meant for humans.” It is exactly as I have tried to explain to both Sorin and Iris.

Why is it that no one else understands or accepts this?

“Did you ever think it was a mercy that the females and kits died? Our people were barely surviving already. King Armik would have worked them to their deaths anyway. Or perhaps it was the circumstances in which their breeding occurred?” Moshi cocks his head.

“The Krijese males who took the females did so cruelly. Krijese females were built to take our males. They are large and strong. Human females are soft and small. They need gentleness, and if there is any Krijese who could learn how to be gentle with his mate, it is you.”

He rises to his feet and walks away. I turn to Iris again and try to imagine being gentle with her.

Being tender. To my surprise, it is not difficult to think I could be that for her.

Are both she and Moshi right? Was it the cruel and vicious way in which the females were bred that caused their deaths?

Am I willing to risk Iris’s life because I am selfish enough to believe this is the case?

Not yet.

But I am more willing to agree to her terms of pleasuring each other than I had been before.

I am just selfish enough for that. Although I am not sure how often we will be able to pleasure each other with our kit nearby.

He is a heavy sleeper, unlike me who was forced to sleep lightly for fear of being killed by another tribe brother during any challenges created by King Armik.

Perhaps some of the elders would be willing to let Sorin stay with them for a few nights once Iris and I become fully mated?

Already I am planning. With that settled, I return to my task as I have fallen behind.

By the time the last dreri has been butchered completely and all parts gathered that will be used, the first moon is fully risen and hangs high in the sky.

Sorin’s eyes have drifted shut many times and all of the elders have taken their leave and retired for the evening so all that remains are the younger male warlords.

Iris has done well, even if she has skinned and cut apart far less number of dreri than the others.

But for these being her first, she should be proud of what she accomplished.

I stand and approach my mate and our kit.

“It is time for sleep.” I first pick up Sorin whose head collapses onto my shoulder and then reach a hand out for Iris, who takes it after only a short hesitation.

Together, we return to our tent. I carefully lay our kit down and wet a cloth besides the water basin to clean his chest and hands.

I get a new pair of leg coverings and change him out of the dirty pair.

He remains asleep through all my caring.

I can feel Iris observing our routine from the other side of our dwelling.

One turn I hope she will become a part of it and together we will care for our kit. Like a family.

Once Sorin is as clean as he is going to get without submerging himself into the water to bathe, I rinse out the cloth in the basin and turn to Iris.

“Come, it is our turn to wash.”

Slowly, she approaches and tilts her head. “Are you going to clean and dress me like you did our son?”

I pause a beat. “Is that what you wish?”

“Maybe, but only if you’re not going to run away when you’re done.”

This mate of mine will be the death of me. “I will not run.”

“Good. That’s what I wish, then.”

Are all human females as bold with their mates as Iris appears to be? From what I know of them, I suspect, in most cases—except perhaps Maeve—they are. Within the privacy of their dwelling, perhaps Maeve is as well.

“What are you thinking about?” Iris asks.

I do not believe she would like to know that my thoughts have drifted to other females even if only to compare her to them. “That I like your boldness with me.”

Her cheek darkens in the dim interior of our tent. “It doesn’t turn you off? Some men don’t want a woman to ask for—or demand, really—what it is she wants.”

“I am not some male. I am your mate. Besides, I do not know your mind like you do so it is only right that you share your needs and wants just as I should share mine with you. How else will we know?”

Iris makes her sweet melodic sound. “There would be a lot more happy women in the universe if they had mates like you.”

I gently run the back of my finger over her dark-colored cheek. “The only female whose happiness I care about is yours.”

“You really are too good, you know that?”

“You make it easy to be so.” No one else besides Sorin could make me this way. “Let us wash.”

Iris nods, but makes no move to do so. Since she did say she wished for me to clean and dress her then it is up to me to move. I go to her bag that I placed beside her pallet and squat down.

“Do you have a preference for what you would like to wear?” I glance over at her.

“I have a pair of pajamas.” She laughs and joins me. “You probably have no idea what those are.”

I offer her the bag and she searches through it until she finds these…

pajamas and hands them to me. They are made of a soft material and consist of a top and bottom covering similar to all the other items she wears.

I guide her to the water basin and place her coverings beside it.

The cloth I used to clean Sorin is dirty, so I grab another one, wet it, and wring it out.

Then I gently wipe Iris’s face.