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Chapter Six

A liyah

Gods, my head hurts. It aches and throbs and pounds. And my leg is on fire.

My eyes fly open, but the dim light makes me wince, so I shutter my lids closed so fast they didn’t register anything.

I’m lying on thick furs. I smell meat cooking. And I hear… a male humming.

I peek out through one eye and realize I’m in the cave near the falls. Sirius is tending the fire, his back toward me.

He must have felt my gaze on him because he whirls around to look at me, then smiles. This isn’t his usual smile where his lips tip upward but he doesn’t show his teeth. No, this is a genuine smile that exposes his long, white, dangerous fangs. He looks handsome.

“You’re up! You’ve slept for an entire day. How are you?”

“My head aches,” I tell him in the People’s language, “the light’s too bright and my ribs hurt. You saved my life.” I reach up, weak as a warux kit. He’s kneeling at my side in an instant, looking at me like I’m the most valuable thing in the universe.

“You took a bad fall.” He smoothes my hair off my forehead and bends toward me, then pulls back and stands. “Hungry? I’ve had stew simmering, just waiting for you to wake.”

Something’s off. He’s avoiding my gaze and already back at the firepit dishing up a gourd full of food.

“Hungry. Very.”

Moments later, he’s sitting near me on a stump, watching me eat. The wide smile and relieved eyes are gone. A flat expression has taken their place.

“Big gourd!” I bark, pointing to the large, open vessel lying against the side wall moments before every bite I’ve eaten hurtles up my throat and out of my mouth. I had just enough time to miss the furs and aim at the dirt floor.

Groaning as I lean away from our pallet, I rest all my weight on one arm. I’m panting and my mouth tastes awful. My head is spinning and I’m so tired all I want to do is lie back down.

Sirius gives me a tiny sip of water from a gourd, washes my face and hands with a doram leaf, and eases me back into my furs. He does his best to clean the mess I made, but it still smells bitter and foul in here.

I must have fallen asleep, because it’s dark, the fire is banked, and Sirius’s front is pressed to my back, his arm around my waist. I haven’t felt this bad since I had the ternu fever when I was a child, but the safety of his warm embrace makes everything better.

He was asleep, but he wakes instantly. “You’re up. I’ve been worried,” he rumbles in my ear. “Your fall was over a day ago. How long were you gone from your village? Will they come looking for you?”

“Aliyah should be back. Yes, worry.”

“I should get you back to your people. I’ll carry you as soon as you’re able. You have a Momma? Aunts? People who can care for you better than me? I’ll take you home and leave you with your People.”

I nestle into him and breathe deeply to settle my thoughts, but I’m still worried. I know I should go home, but he’s made it clear he’ll leave the moment I’m safe.

Even if I convince Sirius to stay here with me, if Poppa comes to find me, he’ll think the worst when he sees Sirius. I won’t have time to tell Poppa not to shoot. I squeeze my eyes shut to obliterate the picture of an arrow through Sirius’s heart.

He’s right, he should take me to my village. When we get close, I’ll make him go away. I have to learn enough words to explain things.

“Food?” I ask.

“You sure you want to try? One bite.” He lifts one finger. “We’ll see.”

No wonder Poppa babied me after Momma died. He knew I’d never have this with a male. I’d never have anyone to love me or hold me tight or care whether I lived or died. The love he had with Momma was so extraordinary, it must have broken his heart to deny such intimacy, such bliss to me.

Sirius will get me home in one or two days. Then I’ll be alone forever, only now it will be bitter medicine because I know what I’m missing.

I don’t care that I’m still nauseous, or that my head is pounding behind my eyes. I want what my friends have, what my Momma and Poppa had. I want one night in the furs with Sirius before I make him go away forever and I become an untouchable again.

Sirius

She tolerated a few bites of food before shaking her head when I put another spoonful to her lips. Her face is pinched, her eyes are closed, and she’s clearly in pain.

“Sirius hold Aliyah,” she says as she drops her head on the bundle of furs I made as a pillow.

I hold her from behind like I’ve been doing for days, but she turns in my arms so we’re face to face.

“Aliyah, Sirius friends,” she says. It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

She spears me with a molten gaze, keeping the contact for long moments even though she’s squinting in the dim firelight. Her head must still hurt.

“Head hurt?” I ask.

“Yes, head. Heart hurt.” She grasps my hand and nestles it between her breasts. “Don’t want Sirius to go.”

“I know, but Sirius is no good for Aliyah.”

She slides my hand from the valley between her breasts to place my palm on her nipple. I inhale sharply as my head snaps back. But I’m not a good male—I don’t pull my hand away.

She smiles.

“Sirius touch Aliyah?

“Sirius broken, Sirius bad. Bad for Aliyah.”

“No. No bad.” To prove her point she breaches the gap between us and gives me the sweetest kiss ever bestowed upon a male by a female. She rests her bent thigh on my hip and presses even closer. Her core is riding my flaccid cock.

I am bad. Perhaps a good male would give this innocent what she’s asking for. He would give her physical ecstasy and fill her completely. But this geneslave can’t even do that. She’s so virginal she doesn’t know how lacking I am. She’s still slickly sliding up and down on my limp ridge. I disgust myself.

“Sirius.”

Her hands skim from my shoulders to my ass, then press me against her hard and tight.

“Sirius and Aliyah anck ,” she says breathlessly.

I don’t need to know thirty-eight languages to intuit what anck means. She reaches between us to grab my cock. My fingers surround her wrist and bring her hand to my face. I suck one finger and then two inside my mouth. I bob up and down, suckling and swirling her slim fingers with my tongue. Her harsh intake of breath is all the affirmation I need to know she enjoys this.

I smell her arousal. It perfumes the cave. Drack the Feds! Drack the scientists who somehow removed my ability to engage in intercourse.

Haven’t the Feds taken enough away from me? Do I have to allow them to steal this from me, too? She wants to feel good. Just because I can’t receive the same pleasure, I don’t need to deny her this. I can give her physical delights all night long without robbing her of the one thing I have no right to take.

I roll her onto her back and straddle her, then lean down and kiss this beautiful, alluring female with all the passion and longing and desire I’ve felt since I’ve met her.

I kiss her hard as I bring her hands above her head and hold them at the wrists. Nipping and nibbling isn’t enough, I penetrate her with my tongue. Memorizing her taste, her smell, her wet slickness.

“Is this what you want? This Aliyah?” I ask, my tone so deep and husky it sounds foreign. I shift my knee, pressing at the apex of her thighs and she settles against it, rubbing in the rhythm of desire.

She pulls my head closer and bites my lips hard enough to hurt. Her tongue presses into me, finding my sharp canines, not shying away from my obvious inadequacies. Her hands lodge in my hair, then grab the base of my ears—my aberrant animal ears.

“Pretty,” her tone is loud, almost harsh, as if she knows my deepest deficiencies and wants to shout them away. Her finger finds the notch, where a fellow geneslave took a bite out of me when we were forced to spar as younglings. “Pretty!” It’s an order. She wants me to believe it.

She stops kissing me long enough to pull away, sliding her fingers in the short fur on my back, then the brindle markings on my pectorals. “Sirius pretty.” She pushes me up to a sitting position, then joins me. I don’t miss her grimace—changing positions hurt her head—but she doesn’t stop.

“Sirius pretty. Sirius soft.” She pets my fur. My loathsome fur. The fur that separates me from normal humanoids and highlights my animal DNA. When she does this, I don’t feel weird at all. I feel… desired. There’s no repulsion in her face, only attraction.

“Sirius…” She searches for a word. “Sirius perfect… for Aliyah.”

She’s straddling me now, her knees at my hips, both of us sitting. She’s strong and athletic and knows what she wants. She’s riding my cock, her hands on my shoulders, her head thrown back in obvious pleasure.

I press her down into the furs and suck her nipple into my mouth. My canines don’t get in the way. I use my blunt front teeth to tease, then scrape the tip.

She lets loose a string of words in her language. I don’t need to know what she means. Her body is speaking eloquently enough. The only word I need to know is my own name, and she keeps repeating it as if it’s the most important sound in the universe.

I kiss my way down from her breast to her belly and farther, despite the fact she’s pulling me up. She wants my mouth on her nipples—she doesn’t know what’s in store for her down below.

“I’ll please you, Aliyah.”

I split her wide and sneak a swift glance. I don’t want her to worry she’s on display. I’d prefer she tune in only to pleasure. But I want this mental picture to always remember—to keep in the private stash in the back of my mind when I’m alone.

I nip her mons, then lick her there, giving her time to get accustomed to my presence. Her muscles are stiff. She’s not comfortable with me here. Perhaps it’s prohibited in her tribe.

My canine-enhanced DNA is a blessing. I inhale her rich aroma, memorizing the details of her sweet, musky scent, the pleasing tang of her cream. I create a secret storage place in the back of my mind to remember the exact taste and smell and sound and feel of this delicious, intimate moment.

Lifting my mouth away from her, I hover there as I reach up and pluck the luscious tips of her breasts. She relaxes immediately, moaning in pleasure and splitting her legs wider.

After a moment of this, I rub my chin on her fur-covered mound. This catches her attention and she releases one soft, surprised pant through her open mouth.

My hands press her knees apart, my thumbs drifting along the tender insides of her thighs even as my chin dips lower to press against her little bud.

Her fingers lodge in my hair as if she wants to direct me to the exact spot that’s on fire, then she releases her grip.

I grab her wrists and place them back on my head. “That’s right, show me what you want.”

She urges me closer, with more pressure. Deep noises escape her throat as I rub rhythmically against her. I slide down, substituting my tongue for the hard bone of my chin. The timbre of her response lowers as she presses up to meet me.

I lap at her bud, then suck it into my mouth. She says my name with equal parts shock and enjoyment.

She’s wild, abandoned, pressing me closer to her, desperate. Mindful of hurting her, not wanting to defile her, I press one knuckle into her entrance. It’s drenched, dripping wet for me. Between my mouth and tongue and suction and pressure and the fraction of penetration I provide, she tumbles into her orgasm.

Her muscles clench around my knuckle, her bottom lifts toward me and her knees open wider in invitation. She moans in loud, uninhibited appreciation as every muscle in her body spasms in release.

“Sirius.” She pulls me up her body to lie next to her. “Sorry.” She shows me blood on the tips of her nails and I realize she scratched my shoulders in the heat of passion. Grabbing her hand, I kiss her palm; the fact she drew blood is high praise indeed.

My chest is tight. I clamp my jaw shut against the emotions hurtling toward me at lightning speed. Nothing in my life has prepared me for this. To believe I have no emotions for thirty-one annums , then discover such a deep well of passion—it’s overwhelming.

I can’t understand how this happened. It’s taken me by surprise. I want to think of nothing other than this moment, not the abuses of my past or the loneliness in store for me in the future. Just this perfect moment right now.

Aliyah’s too innocent to know of my inadequacies. She doesn’t know my cock should be hard as stone right now. Or that I should be demanding to breach her threshold with it. Her virginal naivete is the first and probably last lucky thing that’s ever happened to me. She can enjoy this moment fully.

“Sirius.” Her eyes are luminous. The muscles in her face are loose and happy. She snuggles against me, her head on my bicep, her lips at my pectoral, and kisses me until she falls asleep.