Page 9

Chapter

Seven

W ater ran off Agrel as he waded to the shore where Delilah waited.

Gehj watched and waited for all but a heartbeat before he, too, began to make his way toward her.

He could feel every feather on his body, down to the very quill, vibrating with need.

While they were bathing, they had discussed how to best approach her, given that their time was nearly at an end in the village, and instead, she had come to them.

She had approached them for the consummation.

Her entire body was soft and welcoming, the pupils of her eyes blown out with desire even as a musk of need rose from her flesh.

It was truly happening. Never had he dared to imagine a female approaching them, much less Delilah.

Agrel had been right. By keeping close to her and slowly accustoming her to their presence, she had begun to unconsciously bond with them, relating the sense of safety and affection with their devoted attentiveness.

She responded like an Atlavan female, except far bolder.

A female of their species would still wait until the ahaku pair made an official declaration to her.

Keenly aware of the momentous occasion upon them, Gehj arrived at Delilah’s side just moments after Agrel and extended his hand in welcome to their female.

He expanded his feathers, his crest rising and tailing fanning wide gloriously to convey his interest, but barely dared to breathe until her hand slid into his ahaku’s hand.

Nearly trembling with the enormity of the moment, Agrel took her other hand so that they were able to draw her with them into the soft grass beside the pond, fragrant with small yellow flowers.

It was not a nest worthy of a mate, but their circumstances were not typical of an Atlavan mating.

They would owe her all formal rituals and oaths at their nest once they were settled among their people, where they would be protected and provided for while they went into seclusion.

Such a thing was not possible now. Even the courting flight would be too risky.

It was not how he imagined his mating would go, but he did not think of it.

Instead, working cooperatively with Agrel, he focused on the task of wooing her with the tender brush of his wings over her body, stroking leisurely over every bit of exposed skin with gentle sweeps.

He admired the hue of their feathers against her and her incredible responsiveness.

Many females barely tolerated wing-grazing only for the levels of arousal that it brought them, but not Delilah.

She shivered at their touch, her breath catching in small, telling gasps, her skin pinkening with her heightening desire.

She took great pleasure in their wing-grazing, her body softening and leaning into them as the signs of her arousal deepened further.

It was only then when her body was rubbing against theirs and her body arching into the touch of their wings that they knew that she was ready.

Only then did they slowly begin undressing her.

Exchanging a look with his ahaku, Gehj gripped a long feather and singed it free from his crest with a curl of flame that rose from it.

He held the long red feather between them for Delilah to see, the radiant blue of its tip catching the firelight so that it shimmered.

He brushed it against along her jaw before lovingly setting it on the bed of grass where Agrel’s green-tipped feather quickly joined it.

The two feathers weren’t enough for one’s mating and the wrongness of it shook him.

He was tempted to singe several more feathers free, but Agrel cooed softly, bringing his gaze to him.

Gehj swallowed and nodded his thanks for the reminder.

They had discussed this and had agreed that waiting was the best course of action.

“Just two feathers for now,” he rasped, and Delilah glanced at him curiously. He knew that she did not understand the enormity of the feathers, or how much it cost him to wait to feather their bed properly. He would explain it to her later.

“This is honestly beautiful just as it is,” she whispered, and a small quiver ran through her that he knew was just as much from nerves as it was from her own rising desire. “It’s really been a while since I’ve done this. I’m not sure?—”

“Then let us lead,” Agrel cooed, its resonating purr growing in strength as the sound thickened on his tongue. “We have never done this before, but when we were young, we were taught by an elder about the ways of mating and pleasure. I would be happy to show you.”

“As would I,” Gehj echoed in agreement, his eyes opening as he trailed a claw along the hem of the fabric laying against her collarbone. “I am an eager student and would be delighted to show you what I have learned.”

She shivered in response, her teeth sinking into her lip to stifle her moan as she jerkily nodded in agreement.

He smiled as he trailed his hand lower to stroke over the fullness of her breast. Exchanging a look with his ahaku, they lifted her together and set her on the bed between them.

Gehj carefully undid a button with his claws.

Atlavan did not often use such things on their clothing, preferring ties for even their cloaks worn in the winter, but they used them occasionally enough that he understood how to release its hold on the material.

He opened one button after another, revealing more and more soft flesh.

They took their time removing every article of clothing.

Atlavan females wore the split wrap tied at their hips like males did, and nothing else except layers of beads and chains over their breasts.

Much of Delilah’s clothing was a puzzle to him, but one that he enjoyed while uncovering each new discovery as he slid his fingers and his tongue over every bit of exposed skin as Agrel did likewise at her other side as they held her between them.

The heat of their magic snapping along their tongues to dance over her flesh and make her gasp with pleasure.

Delilah arched between them, her hands sliding to their chests, finding her anchorage in the storm of desire that rose between the three of them, the heat and weight of her hand sending a current through him.

Her touch seared deeply into his flesh, as if imprinting herself upon him, and from Agrel’s sharp intake of breath, he knew that his ahaku was sharing the same experience and feeling.

He shivered as her fingers fluttered against him, caressing the very small and very fine down covering his chest—their chests, for Agrel’s low hiss betrayed his own pleasure—her fingertips teasing the longer feathers along his collar.

Gehj growled softly with the pleasure of it and his achingly erect cock suddenly did something it never did.

It twisted in the air as if trying to grasp something and he gasped as a strong tugging sensation in its root tripped a string pleasure through him with its movement. He was ready to breed already.

Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her ripe scent as his right hand, which had been resting against her belly while he helped support her weight with his left, slid down.

Mindful of his claws, he followed the blessed path of unbelievably soft skin until he reached a small pelt of fur soaked heavily her in sweetness.

He could taste it sharply within his mouth the moment his fingers stirred the curls.

Agrel stroked her thigh as he watched, and a shiver noticeably rocked his ahaku.

“You are so very soft, swiya ,” the male hissed.

The word used for one’s beloved mate fell sweetly from his tongue and it sparked something with Gehj, his hunger climbing for the claim.

Swiya —heart’s fire—he understood now why that was the love name given to females.

He felt as if he was about to be set ablaze, burning within the rising mating flames that bathed him low in his belly.

Gehj’s fingers combed through her curls only briefly before sinking deeper to where her warmth beckoned him. Wet heat bathed his fingers, and his need twisted frantically within him as he felt the first sparks of his mating fire climb higher through him.

Not too soon , he reminded himself. She needed to be well prepared, and her body filled with his seed before he could give into his fires or else he risked injuring her. Even at Atlavan could be injured by the fire of another, he did not wish to think of what it could do to a soft human.

So he petted her sex, enjoying the way her belly quivered, and her hips began to rock in response, or the way her breath caught in a little hiss and her hips jerked when he discovered the sensitive pleasure center at the top of her sex.

The little bud of flesh was a delight to play with.

He rubbed his first and middle finger on either side of it, enjoying the way she panted and the choked little sounds she made when he squeezed and tugged on it.

Atlavan females did not have such a thing on the outside of their bodies, which made their pleasure harder to rouse.

But his little human seemed made for pleasure from her mates.

Her sex gushed its sweet rewards as his fingers plucked the bud like a string or when he flicked it with the side of his claw.

Agrel groaned and his lowered from her other side, his long tongue snaking out from between his lips to dive into her sex as Gehj rolled her bud between his fingers.

Delilah’s hips shot up with a sharp cry that she immediately smothered with her fist as she quickly brought it to her mouth.

He purred, delighted by her responsiveness.