Page 8

"How long until it…until you calm down?" Her voice is slowing again, growing husky, and I know she's watching me. I know .

And it excites me.

"Can't…say." I'm not in any hurry to stop touching myself. I know we should be leaving, but I drag my hand up my shaft again and can't seem to care about anything more than pleasuring myself. "Any…assistance…appreciated. Very…distracting."

Aidy makes an outraged little noise. "I'm not giving you a hand job just because you ask!"

That makes me open my eyes to regard her. "What is a hand job? You said you didn't know anything about cocks."

Her expression grows flustered, and her hands flutter in that way I've come to recognize is her panicking. "It's just…me using my hands on you. To make you come. People do that kind of thing."

I put both hands on my cock, hating the tangle of material that's keeping me from touching skin. I cup my sac with one hand and use the other to squeeze and drag along my shaft. "Hand job…like this?"

She covers her eyes with her hands and then peeks out between her fingers. "You should know you shouldn't be doing that in front of me."

"Why not? You don't like it?"

That sweet, strange scent grows thicker in the air. Definitely coming from her, along with a good deal of humming. She continues to watch through her hands. "I didn't say that."

"Then why not do it in front of you? You can tell me if I'm doing it wrong."

"Most people do it without the clothing."

Thank kef for that. I push the offending fabric aside, freeing my cock, and love her startled intake of breath. I put my hands on my cock again, and she's right, it improves the situation. "Much better."

"Yeah?" There's a soft little hitch in her voice. She keeps staring, her gaze fascinated. She eyes my spur, then my cock. Spur, then cock, over and over. She's entranced with both. Her hand goes to her throat, fingers curling and stroking the base of it. "Can… can you take care of yourself?"

"To make my cock go down?" I am starting to think this impossible. If anything, it is harder than ever. Feels amazing, too. Its presence is distracting me almost as much as her avid, hungry stare.

Almost.

"Yes, I think so." Aidy's gaze flicks to me again, and she shifts in her seat, clearly unsettled. "Get yourself under control and then we'll be on our way."

As if I haven't been trying to control myself? " How ?"

She thinks for a moment, pursing her lips, and that movement of her mouth just makes me want to stroke myself again. "Think of unpleasant things," she says. "Things like…how cold it is here."

"But the cold means that we are under the furs together," I growl, and defiantly stroke my clenched hand up my length, to the tip. "And you pressed your naked body against me for warmth."

"I did," she whispers. "I rubbed all over you, didn't I?"

Her words tear through me like a bolt of energy. With a shuddering breath, I stroke my cock again. "Keep talking."

She hesitates, but only for a brief moment.

Then her hand moves down her front, lightly trailing.

"When I woke up in the morning, and my nipples were pressed against your chest, my legs twined with yours…

It was the only good thing about being here on this hellishly cold planet.

You were so warm, and I felt so protected and safe. "

Her words ignite my need. I love being her defender. Love that she's mine. No one else will ever harm her, not while I breathe. "You like that I protect you?" I grit out between my teeth, my hand ferociously stroking. "Like that I can keep you safe?"

"I do," Aidy breathes. "It makes me feel like I'm not alone in this."

"I'd never leave you alone," I promise her. "Never. If you were lost, I'd come find you. No matter how long it took."

Her breath hitches, and that sweet scent fills the air even more.

"Is that why you say I'm yours?" Her voice is soft, her gaze still on my cock as I stroke it. "Because you feel responsible for me?"

"Because you are mine." I claimed her. Now I'd destroy anyone who so much looks at her.

She's soft and lovely, sweet and fragrant, and when her eyes close and her hand brushes over one mounded breast, I want to mark her.

Claim her as mine. I drag my hand over my cock again and step closer, and then my release boils through me.

It splashes over her in thick white strands, over her makeshift clothing and on her bare skin.

I love the sight of my fluids on her skin. Love it.

Aidy gasps again, but she doesn't seem surprised at my need to mark her. She shivers and stares up at me, lips parted but makes no sound of protest. I pull in a ragged breath as the last of the release flares through me, and stagger.

"Feel better?" she asks, again, her voice so very soft and gentle.

Better?

I feel incredible. When I scent the air, her smell mingles with mine. The realization feels almost as good as my hand on my cock. Almost. But I nod and stare down at my hand, now coated with my release.

"I'll get something we can use as a towel," Aidy says. "Then we can go."