Page 5 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER FIVE

Gregar

W e travel fast, not stopping until the light drops.

I take first watch with Anghar, him facing one way, me the other, keeping our eyes on the trees.

Not many predators would take their chances on a group of raskarran males, but you can never be too cautious, especially when travelling outside your territory.

I do not know where the merka beasts lair round here, whether there are any herds of ensouka nearby.

I do not know which tribes have territory out here, whether they are friend or foe.

Years ago, when there were females, exchanges between the tribes were commonplace and we were all friendly.

It was hard to maintain rivalries and feuds when any of your brothers might find their linasha in your rivals’ tribe.

When the females died, that all fell apart.

Tribes like mine keep to themselves, trying to live as best we can.

Others took to travelling, ever in search of females and a better future.

Some, like Sarkry’s tribe, have taken to marauding.

If we encounter another tribe out here, we will have to hope Lina smiles on us, that they are not one of the marauding variety.

I am selfish to take the first watch. It is not with thoughts of my tribe brothers that I choose it, but my linasha and her soft, sweet body.

I could be asleep and in her arms now, but that would mean being woken by one of the others for my watch.

I want my sleep uninterrupted, my time with her uninterrupted.

This time, I want to taste her. When the elders taught us of the dreamspace and how a good raskarran male uses his time there with his linasha to drive her wild with pleasure, I thought it was a cruel torment.

With no females left in our tribe, it was something I believed I would never experience.

A piece of history I would have preferred not to know.

Now, I am glad. I will enter the dreamspace and show my linasha that I can be worthy of her. That she will know endless pleasure at my hands.

When it comes time for Shemza and Vantos to take their watch, I am eager to bed down. Anghar chuckles.

“If that little run has exhausted you so, you need to do more hunting, brother,” he says.

Some chiefs would not tolerate this sort of talk. Some chiefs are fools.

“I am merely eager to greet the new dawn,” I say, “and to start the running again.”

I expect my eagerness to hinder me, but my eyes grow impossibly heavy as I settle myself down on the floor.

Just as they did before I fell asleep in the hammock back at the village.

I wonder if it is the call of my linasha’s spirit, drawing me into the dreamspace.

The thought of her waiting for me makes me smile as I close my eyes.

And then I am gone, out of my waking body and into the dreamspace.

It has taken the form of one of our travel tents - the kind we have brought with us but not bothered to assemble.

They are for the return journey, when I have my linasha’s comfort to consider.

For now, speed is my primary goal, and sleeping on the rough ground encourages a male not to sleep in.

So does the thought of a soft body in my arms, and the body lying on the pelts in front of me is soft.

She is wearing a robe that looks neither warm nor practical, the material so thin I can see through it to her skin beneath.

The hollow at the centre of her stomach, the shadowed patch between her thighs.

Like before, her hands are bound above her head, tied to one of the tent poles.

She is at my mercy, and the thought makes my cock strain against my clothes.

“There you are,” she says, voice sultry and low as she looks over at me through half-lidded eyes.

Lina have mercy. What did I do to deserve such perfection in a mate?

I grin as I approach, my heartspace pounding at her nearness.

She shifts on the pelts, the material of her strange dress slipping from her legs.

Her skin is smooth and creamy, so different to my own.

I know it is my duty, my honour, to give her pleasure, but when I kneel down on the pelts beside her, I just run my hand over her leg, cupping the lower part of her limb in my hand, brushing a thumb over the curve of her muscle.

The difference between us is striking and strange, but not unpleasant.

She is not raskarran, but that is okay. If there are any raskarran females left, they belong to tribes far from mine.

And after seeing my Linasha, I would not want a raskarran female, anyway.

She is every bit as soft to touch as she looks. Our shapes are similar. Two legs, two arms. Her tail must be very short, for I cannot see it. No matter. She is my linasha. I will tend to her every need. If she has not the tail for climbing, then I will climb for her.

She is much smaller than me, with tiny little feet and toes. I wonder what she likes, what will make those little toes curl.

I stroke my fingers down the inside of her thigh. She lets out a soft sigh.

“Finally,” she says.

I grin. My impatient linasha. She knows what I owe her, and she wants it. I am happy to oblige.

I push the fabric from her legs, then spread her wide. The scent of her teases at me, and I breathe deep. I will take her in with all my senses. Touch her soft skin, scent her perfume, taste her with my tongue. Hear her sounds of pleasure as I bring her to climax.

And slowly. I intend to savour this moment.

I stroke my fingers down her legs again, teasing my way closer to her core.

My linasha tips her head back, closing her eyes, a look of satisfaction on her face.

Her hands may be bound, but she still considers herself in charge.

Lina has blessed me with a confident, fierce mate.

It is fitting and right for a chief such as I.

My linasha will have to lead my tribe beside me.

She cannot be meek. Lina chose for me well, and I am humbled to be able to call such a fine female mine.

The thought makes my cock twitch, but I ignore it. Tonight is all about my linasha. Just as it should be.

I follow my fingers with my lips, tasting her skin with my tongue.

When my linasha moans encouragement, I waste no time in heading for her cunt, sliding my fingers through her folds.

I watch her as I do. She keeps her eyes closed, but there is a satisfied smile on her face as I explore her.

As my fingers graze past the nub at the peak of her cleft, her lips part, a soft gasp escaping them.

I grin. This is where she likes to be touched, then.

I circle the nub, moving closer, then further away, paying careful attention to her responses.

She does not shy from expressing her pleasure or displeasure, and soon I know just how to please her with my touches.

As I repeat her favourite combinations, she grows slicker, her breath coming faster as she writhes against my hand, looking for release.

“Patience, my linasha,” I tell her. “I will get you there, but only when I am ready.”

“I’m not a very patient woman,” she responds, a little bite in her voice.

I grin. “Some things are sweeter when we have to wait to receive them.”

“You know what’s sweeter than one orgasm? Two. Get me there quickly, and maybe you’ll have time to get me there again.” There’s a flash of challenge in her eyes.

I grin. Yes, Lina has chosen well for me.

I am about to give my best efforts to her pleasure when she lies back, muttering under her breath.

“May as well get a few last kicks in before we all die...”

Her words make my heartspace freeze, any thoughts of pleasure scattering. I move over her so I can look her in her eyes, my hand moving to cup her face.

“You are in danger?” I demand, a snarl curling round my words.

I will kill any who threaten her. I will tear them limb from limb. She is mine. I will not lose her, not now.

Her eyes are dark with desire as she stares up at me, a little smile curling the edges of her lips.

“Mmm, are you going to save me, my big protector?” she says, arching her hips upward so her body presses against mine.

I stifle a groan. I can feel her heat, even through our clothes, and my cock strains against my trousers.

The need to be inside her grows urgent and overwhelming.

But not here, not this time. There are things that I wish to save for the waking world, and my linasha is in danger. I cannot be distracted.

“Who do you need saving from, linasha?” I ask, brushing her hair back from her face. “I will find them and tear out their throats.”

She does not look overjoyed by this promise. Does she think me incapable? I am one of the fiercest warriors in my tribe. With my tribe brothers at my back, I can take down any enemy. For her, I would fight to my death to take them down alone.

“Tell me,” I insist.

She raises one of her dark brows. “You’re killing my lady boner, here. I don’t need a trip into that part of my subconscious, thanks. No point dwelling on things that can’t be changed. I just want to play. You’ve got me here, at your mercy…”

She tugs against the rope restraining her hands. Her wrists are so delicate, so fragile looking. The sight of her bound for me has my cock harder than I have ever known it to be, but how am I supposed to give myself over to her pleasure when fear has frozen my blood.

“What danger do you face that makes you think this male could not help you?” I ask, trying to ask it softly, though I want to rage and rail against the very idea that she could be in such danger.

She shoves at me, hard. Surprise more than her meagre strength makes me tumble away from her. Her hands are free, the rope that bound them vanished. She gestures at me, a fiery rage in her spirit.

“You going to tear the throat out of starvation, huh? You going to overpower infection and dehydration with your muscles?”

She grabs at my arm, and I am a bad male, for though her eyes blaze and her mouth presses closed with anger, the bite of her small fingers against my skin makes me groan low in my throat.

“I will feed you until you can no longer bear the thought of more,” I promise, taking her face in my hand. “I will bring you water to drink and a healer for your ills.”

Her eyes close and she leans in to me, even as she gives a sharp shake of her head.

“Don’t,” she says, voice low with command. “Don’t torture me with promises of a rescue that won’t come. Mercenia won’t come.”

Who is this Mercenia and why would he abandon such a female?

“Forget Mercenia, I will come for you. I am coming for you.”

“Stop! This is my dream. I control it.” She speaks as if to another person in the room, and I actually look round, expecting to find someone. But we are still alone.

“There is only one kind of ‘coming’ I want from you,” she says, softer now, leaning closer until her breath fans over the skin of my neck.

I am ready with more words to console her, to ease her fears and assure her that no harm will come to her. That I will not allow it to come to her.

But then she brushes the heel of her palm along my cock and all my thoughts scatter.

“Make me come,” my linasha demands.

And I am a helpless male. Powerless to refuse.

I push her back on the bed, descending on her with all the desire I have been trying to hold back.

I rip her dress aside and spread her legs, dropping my face between them and taking a long taste.

My linasha moans, her hands sinking into my hair as her hips rise up to meet my mouth, urging me onwards.

“Yes,” she says, “just like that.”

I taste her again, running my tongue from her opening, through her slick folds and up to the nub at her peak.

Possessiveness roars through me as her taste coats my tongue, musky and sweet, her scent filling my nose and driving me wild.

I explore her with my tongue, lapping up her juices as I probe at her entrance and run my tongue through her folds.

The nub is her most sensitive part, and her whole body jolts when I lap at it.

I use these touches sparingly. I am not ready for her to climax just yet.

“You are mine,” I tell her between long licks. “Only mine.”

“Only yours,” she moans in response. “Fuck, yes. Keep going. I’m so close.”

My greedy linasha. She thrills me.

“No other male will taste this cunt,” I say, then thrust my tongue into her entrance.

She cries out, back arching off the bed, and I cannot help grinning at the pleasure she takes in my attentions.

“More,” she moans, “give me more.”

I press a finger inside her as I suckle at her nub. I feel her inner walls fluttering against my fingers - know this to be a sign she is near her release.

“Say it,” I growl, “say that you are mine.”

“I’m yours.”

I press another finger inside her. She’s panting now, making high little keening noises as her body tightens with pleasure.

“Only mine.”

“Only yours. Oh, fuuuck.”

I swirl my tongue around her nub, revelling in the trembles that shudder through her body.

“This pleasure is only mine to give you.”

“Yes. Only you. Only ever you. Give it to me. Please.”

How can a male deny such sweet demands?

I curl my fingers inside her and suck on her nub. Her fingers tighten in my hair as she cries out her pleasure, hips bucking and jolting as she rides her climax to its completion. All through it, I keep nuzzling her, stroking her inner walls, coaxing out every last pleasure I can give her.

When her fingers loosen, I know she is done. I slide my fingers out of her and suck her juices from them. She lounges back on the pelts, one arm across her forehead as she catches her breath.

“That,” she says, “is more like it.”

I grin, then move to lie beside her. I trail my fingers along her body, circling the pink tips of her breast.

“When I find you,” I say, “I’m going to fill you with food, then fill you with my cock.”

She drops her arm, looking at me with dark eyes.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she says, and the dreamspace shatters around us.