Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
This should not be sexy, I tell myself. This should not be sexy. This should not be sexy.
But I'm completely aroused and breathless at the view of him pumping into his hand. I catch sight of some sort of pattern that disappears under his hand. I move the candle closer, determined to see. They look like flushed pink circles of some kind, and they are spaced out in even patterns all along the length of his shaft. "What are those from?"
"Don't...know..." he grits out, still jerking.
"Are they tattoos?" My fingers itch to touch, to stroke, but I clench my free hand into a fist. This should not be sexy. This should not be sexy.
"Don't know," he repeats, impatient. One hand grips the door frame, and he aims the head of his cock toward it.
But this is bothering me. If I had freckles all over my kitty, I'd for sure know about that. "How can you not know?"
"The same reason Natalie doesn't know her own name?" He snarls, glaring at me even as he frantically works his cock. "Do you have all of your memories?"
I wince. "Good point."
"Now, quit talking." He scowls at me as if I'm the problem, hand moving faster. His khui is singing at an urgent rate, mine matching it.
I hate that I'm turned on even as he's rude to me. I hate that I want him to keep going. I hate that I want to invite him in, because I can't stand the guy. But my khui doesn't care, and it's doing its best to override all rational thought. I need to shut this down.
And because I have a mean streak, I lean in and gently blow on his cock.
With a bitten curse, Valmir's release explodes out of him. "Kef." Hot seed sprays all over the side of the hut, rope after rope of it steaming in the bitterly cold air. He paints it all over the side of the hut, and there's more cum than I'd expected. He milks his cock, determined to squeeze every drop of his load onto the stonework, and I remain there, so close I can smell his semen, and yet untouched by all of it. He gives the head of his cock one final squeeze, and I could swear he starts purring.
I am so turned on right now that I can't think straight. Squeezing my thighs tightly together to muffle the throbbing between them, I give him a patronizing smile. "All better now, pussycat?"
"Getting there," he says with a grunt, stuffing himself back into his pants. His bruised hand is covered with his load, and he eyes it and then wipes it on the other side of the door. "Don't wash this off."
"So bossy. You don't get to tell me what to do."
"Yes, I do. You're mine. This thing decided." He taps his chest.
I scoff. "You think punching Chalath once earns you the right into my pants? Dream on."
He goes still, triangular ears pricking. "More tasks?"
"Dozens of them," I lie. "Human courting rituals involve long task lists."
This seems to excite him. Valmir straightens, rolling his shoulders and neck as if settling in. "Perfect. Give me your tasks. I welcome your rules."
Not the answer I expected. It takes me a moment to think, and my brain function isn't helped by the fact that I'm desperately horny and ready to race to my bunk to rub one out myself. "I need the fur of...a creature. A complete, perfect white fur with all four paws on it. And the tail."
Normally I'd feel bad about requesting the skin of another animal, but everyone at camp will eat the meat, and the bones will be used for a variety of tools. Nothing is wasted.
But an intact fur is a big ask, especially from someone who normally hunts with a spear.
"And if I get that for you?" He eyes me coolly, unruffled.
"Then I'll let you have another favor. One that's mutually decided upon."
His eyes gleam, and I wonder if I've just backed myself into a corner. "I'll get you that skin."
"Good." I think. Either way, I've just bought myself some time while I get used to this whole "resonating to a person you didn't choose" situation.
Valmir's gaze flicks over my body, and it's almost like he's waiting for something.
I tilt my head at him. "What is it?"
"Are you going to touch yourself? I can smell your arousal." He lifts his head in a half-nod. "I want to watch like you did."
"You haven't earned that right yet," I say in a lofty voice, and let the flap fall closed.
I brace myself, waiting for him to bust his way in, to demand that I show him. Because I'm absolutely going to touch myself. I don't think I can last another ten minutes without getting off, and I'm not into edging. But I want to maintain a semblance of control, so I'm going to make ridiculous demands and just hope he honors his side of the bargain.