Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
As the day wears on, the scenery changes. Corvak deliberately picks the most inhospitable-seeming paths, looking for a way to climb higher and ever higher. We don't see anyone else, so his plan seems to be working.
I begin to feel more and more defeated as the hours drag by. The furs that are tightly wrapped around our feet are soaked from the snow, and the sharp rocks stab at the soles of my feet, because fur isn't a great protector. It grows colder, and the environment looks increasingly awful. There's no break in the landscape, either. Very few trees, very few animals, just more snow, more rocks, and more misery.
As it grows dark, the overcast sky turns from a muddy gray into a deep, thundery near-black that looks like storm clouds. "Should we find shelter soon?" I ask, chewing on a piece of jerky as we walk. We've eaten a few bites as we've traveled, but Corvak hasn't paused to take a break, and I don't want to be the wimp that demands one. My feet throb, my back aches, and my face feels wind burned. I mention none of this, because I don't want to be a weenie.
Whatever is going on in my chest is still distracting me, too. Its hum grows louder as the time passes until my ears are filled with the noise.
To make matters worse, my thoughts have been…indecent. All day. I keep thinking about this morning and Corvak touching himself. His appealing confusion on what to do. For some reason, even though he says silly things like "you belong to me" and "you're my prize", I'm not scared of him assaulting me. They sound like bluster, especially when he touches himself and comments that he's never done it before. I don't think most guys would admit that so freely, but he doesn't know to be ashamed of it. And because it's all new to him, my brain pounces on that like a cat on catnip, and I turn over filthy scenarios in my head all day. Me showing Corvak where his cock actually goes. Me licking his cock and watching his expression as he experiences it for the first time. Me seeing what that enticingly strange protrusion above his cock can do.
It feels like exactly the wrong time to be thinking horny thoughts about my companion, but I can't seem to help myself. My thoughts continually circle back to earlier, to his cock, to his awe at how aroused he was.
What would he have done if I'd stripped down and touched myself along with him?
"This looks like a suitable place." Corvak is climbing a heavy ledge ahead of me, his strong arms and legs making the task seem easy. His ass is eye-level with me, and I can't help but stare at it. Even covered in piecemeal furs, I can still see the outline of the bubble underneath. He had a great ass in that loincloth, I recall. Stump tail or no tail, there was no hiding that fantastic muscular outline, like the ass of a male figure skater or ballet dancer. An ass you can bounce quarters off. An ass you can sink your face into and just lose yourself. An ass—
Wait, did he say he'd found a suitable place? I force myself to pay attention, giving my head a little shake to clear it from thoughts of me with my nose buried in his yummy backside. "I'm sorry, what?"
He finishes hauling himself up to the ledge and then leans over to hold a hand down to me. "A good place to sleep for the night. Come see."
"Am I a party pooper if I point out that we're still outside?" I ask as I put my hand in his. I don't climb so much as Corvak just hauls me bodily up to his side, and for some reason, that turns me on again. So strong. So fit. Such a good butt.
"You are not a pooper. And I do not see any caves," Corvak says with a shrug, then points behind him. "But underneath these rocks, the wind will not touch you, and we will have our backs to stone. It is a good spot and defensible for the night. We'll continue going higher in the morning."
Sleeping outdoors. Yippee. If this is anything like the movie Pitch Black, we'll be dead the moment it gets dark. If this was Predator, we'd be found by the aliens in a flash. If this was a zombie flick, we'd be sitting ducks. I bite back my whiny response, because it's not like he can make a cave appear out of thin air. He's doing the best he can. I eye the rocky overhang. The rocks themselves are coated with ice and snow and some tendril-like vines, but underneath the rock, a bit like a half-open clam, there's bare rock, just enough for us to wedge ourselves inside and cuddle for the night.