7
CASHOL
I take her small foot in my lap and carefully unwrap her boot, removing the leather laces and
unwinding them with great care, then tugging her foot free. Her toes wriggle the moment they are
exposed to air, and I laugh at the sight of them. “Look at how tiny this extra toe is.”
“It’s not extra!”
“It is! What do you need that for? There is no point to it.” I wiggle my toes, comparing to her five small ones. “I can almost understand why you have an extra finger, but all those extra toes? It is just wasteful. All you need is three strong ones.”
“Oh please. My feet aren’t weird. Yours are weird with only three toes.”
“You just told me you liked them, though. Does that mean you like weird?” I touch her tiny fifth toe, fascinated by the fat, stubby length of it. Just a pink little blob, that toe. It is adorable. When she doesn’t answer me, I take her other foot into my hands and strip her other boot off. “So many toes,” I joke. “I could bite them off and then we would be even.” I lean down and mockingly pretend as if I am going to take a bite out of
her foot.
Meh-gan sucks in a breath.
I hesitate for just a moment, because the look on her face has gone from laughing to intense. Her pupils look huge in the blue sea of her eyes, and her khui seems louder than ever. Fascinated, I pull her foot to her mouth and suck on one of her small toes. I capture it in my mouth and run my tongue over it, watching her reaction.
Meh-gan moans, a little shudder moving over her body.
I groan, lowering her foot. Now I am the one that is panting, because her reaction is not a reaction I should encourage. Her feet are sensitive, and here I am licking them after I promised my chief I would go slow. This is not slow.
This is a mistake, and yet I immediately want to lick her again.
The scent of her arousal hangs in the air, rich and thick, and I groan, leaning back against the cave wall and closing my eyes. “I should not have done that.”
“W-why not?” Meh-gan’s voice is husky, soft. “I liked it.”
Her khui is so loud that it is distracting me. So is her scent. I want nothing more than to grab her and bury my face between her thighs. “I wanted to go slow,” I grit out. “That was not very slow of me.”
“Oh.” She gently pulls her foot out of my grip, and I reluctantly let her go. I expect her to move away, but instead, she sits on her knees, moving closer to me. She shifts her weight, then reaches up and tucks a lock of my mane behind my ear, her fingers grazing the curve of my ear and then touching my earlobe. “Why do you want to go so slow? Are you nervous?”
What can I possibly tell her? I nod, swallowing hard. This part is true; I am a little nervous, but mostly because I wish to make it good for her. I do not want her thinking about all that she has lost, or having regrets that she has mated to silly, foolish Cashol who is not nearly as handsome as his cousin Vektal or as clever with a spear as his friend Haeden. “Nervous. Yes.”
“I understand,” she whispers, and slides her arm around my shoulders. Our faces are but a handspan apart, and she studies me, her gaze flicking to my mouth before she looks me in the eye once more. “We don’t have to move too fast, but I liked it when you touched me.”
I close my eyes, breathing hard, because I am in danger of spilling my seed all over my leathers. “I liked touching you, too. Far too much.”
Meh-gan chuckles. “I don’t think there’s such a thing.” Her hand goes to my chest, and she strokes her fingers over my collarbone, pausing at the plating over my heart. “Your skin is so soft. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
It is as if her hand is directly on my cock, it feels so good. I groan again, my hand flexing at my side as I try desperately not to grab at her. “I am…glad…you like it,” I manage to choke out. “I wore….my favorite skin….for you.”
She giggles, then leans in and brushes her lips over my jaw. “You’re so weird sometimes.”
I let out a hard breath, gazing at her as she moves ever closer. Her hand rests on my chest, her arm around my shoulders, and I can feel her breath on my skin, warm and sweet. Her teats push up against my chest as she moves even closer, and then she leans in, her lips a whisper away from mine.
“Want to try kissing again?”
As if I could ever refuse such a request. “I would.” I cannot stop staring at her lovely, pink mouth. At her soft lips, her inviting smile. Truly, of all the humans, she is the prettiest. How did she end up with me? “Or I can just lick your feet again,” I offer. “Whatever you like.”
Meh-gan just smiles, all confidence, and puts a finger on my chin. She turns my face toward hers, and then brushes her mouth to mine.
I let out a shuddering breath. It is the briefest of kisses, scarcely more than a nudge. “Am I greedy if I say I hoped that would last longer?”
Her smile widens. “It’s called a warm-up. We’ll do more.”
“I am definitely warm.”
She presses her lips to mine again, this time more than just a nudge. This time, she nips at my lower lip, then kisses my upper one. She peppers my mouth with more soft, gentle kisses, and I remain completely still, not wanting to break the spell of this. It is the most perfect thing I have ever experienced.
She is the most perfect thing.
Meh-gan’s lashes flutter, and then she slants her mouth fully over mine. Her lips are parted, and her tongue teases out against the seam of my mouth.
I cannot stop the groan that escapes me. I clench her against my chest, pulling her back to me when she pulls away. “More,” I demand, and love when she chuckles and complies. Her arms twine around my neck even as she puts her lips on mine again. Then, her tongue strokes ever so softly into my mouth. It is smooth and warm, her tongue, and it is as if she is licking my cock when she licks at my mouth.
I hiss and drop a hand to my cock, pressing hard against it so I do not spill.
“Feels good?” Meh-gan whispers, a question on her face. She tilts her head, watching me, then leans in and kisses me again, her tongue playing against mine even as her hand slides low. She covers my hand— where I still grip my cock—and then gently nudges my hand aside.
Her fingers stroke me through my leather, outlining my length and teasing the sides of my shaft.
I groan against her mouth, even as the kiss takes on a hungrier pace. I try to remember all the things my cousin said about kissing his mate, about what she liked, but all I can think about is Meh-gan’s flirty little tongue flicking against mine, Meh-gan’s hand rubbing up and down my length, Meh-gan’s teats pressing against my chest—
I cannot contain myself. The release bubbles up through me, and I grab her hand and drag it roughly up and down my cock, working myself to a quick, hard release. I shudder as I come, my seed boiling over, and truly, I am surprised I lasted as long as I did.
So much for slow.
Meh-gan nips at my lower lip again, then slides her tongue over the place she bit. “That was…fast.”
“Embarrassingly so.”
Her smile widens. “No need to be embarrassed. You said this is your first time. As long as you feel good, it doesn’t matter.” Her hand strokes up and down my twitching length, now sticky underneath my leathers. “Do you want to clean up? We can talk more if you like.” She’s breathless and soft like this, her expression achingly sweet.
I do not like what she is suggesting, though. Clean up and talk? Not when she has not yet experienced the same pleasure. “I want to make you come first.” I lean in, rubbing my nose against hers as I try to capture her
mouth in a kiss. “Can I touch you?”
“Where?”
Slow, I chant to myself. Slow. Slow. I want to bury my face between her thighs, but that is not slow. “Your… feet?”
She takes my hand and guides it to her waistband. “You can touch me here, instead.”
“Your stomach?” I tease, but I am breathless and foolish and trying to make a joke even when I want nothing more than to touch her there.
Meh-gan shakes her head and guides my hand lower, into her leggings. “But you have to kiss me,” she whispers, lifting her mouth to mine. “Please.”
“Do you want me?” I have to ask, because I am dying to hear her say such things.
She hesitates, then brushes her lips against mine. “I want release, Cashol. Please.”
It should be enough. She is being honest. We are still strangers to each other. Even so, I am oddly hurt. I hide this with a cocky grin, and press my mouth to hers. “Say my name again,” I demand. If I cannot have a declaration of lust from her, I will take my name whispered on her lips.”
“Cashol,” she says, and whimpers when my fingers stroke over the mound of curls between her thighs.
Touching her is fascinating, and I forget all about any fleeting hurt I might have felt. This is my mate under my hand, I realize with awe. My mate whose khui is thrumming a sharp, needy song in her chest as I caress her. My mate, who has strange curls between her thighs, and a slit that is so, so wet that it makes my cock stir all over again.
I mate my mouth with hers, ravenous for more of Meh-gan, of her soft sighs and the way she clings to me as my fingers explore up and down her sweet cunt. She squirms against my hand, as if trying to silently nudge me one way or another. I kiss her again, and then murmur, “Where do you want my fingers, Meh-gan? Show me where on your cunt.”
She whimpers, biting at my lower lip even as she guides my hand. She steers me with a touch, and when my stroking fingers brush over a small nub hidden at the apex of her cunt, she gasps. Aha. I remember Vektal telling us of a third nipple. This must be it. Hungrily, I stare down at her covered teats, wondering what it would be like to touch them as I brush my fingers over that spot again.
“Small…circles…” she pants, grabbing my jaw and kissing me again. “Circles.”
I grin. “You are very bossy—”
“Shush,” she tells me, and moans again, her fingers curling against the protective plating on my arms when I hit the right spot. “Oh fuck, just like that.”
My smile turns into a groan as she grows slicker around my fingers. Her legs twitch, opening wider for my hand, and I devour her mouth, stroking my tongue against hers. “Meh-gan,” I demand, my hunger for her ramping up again already. “Say my name as I touch you.” My other hand moves to her silky, pale mane, and I grab a handful of it as she practically crawls into my lap with her need. “Say it.”
“Cashol,” she gasps, her mouth hungry for mine. “Oh, keep doing that, Cashol.”
“I will not stop,” I promise her, and even if my hand should fall off, I will keep touching her, just like this. I watch her, entranced, as she bucks against my hand, my fingers so wet her cunt is slippery against my skin, and every time her flesh meets mine, it makes a slick sound that hardens my cock. “Ride my hand,” I tell her, then bite at her neck. “Ride me. Use me.”
She moans, her hips jerking against my hand. There is a fresh round of wetness and her entire body quivers against me. She goes stiff, gasping, and then sags against me, boneless. Meh-gan buries her face against my neck and I hold her close, stroking her mane as she comes to herself again.
“Thank you,” she eventually whispers to me.
I fight back a frown. Why is she thanking me? I am her mate. It is my duty to ensure that she receives pleasure when we touch. This is not a chore for me. This is a great joy…but she acts as if she is asking for favors. I do not understand it. I slide my fingers over her cunt again, because my cock is hard and I am ready to touch her more, but she makes a noise of distress. I remove my hand and kiss her smooth brow instead.
“Next time, I want to use my mouth instead of my hand.”
She chuckles. “Next time, I’ll let you.”
I try to pull her close, to hold her against me as we relax, but she slides out of my grasp and retreats to the far side of the blankets.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask her. “Or are you hungry?”
“I’m okay,” Meh-gan tells me with a faint smile. I sense that she is lost in her thoughts. Even though we are here together, in our cave, it feels as if I am alone.
I am a foolish hunter to be hurt over such things. I rub my chest, listening to the frantic song of my unsatisfied khui, and try not to worry. This is all new for Meh-gan. I am to go slow. I am to give her time. She must come to terms with her sadness before she can embrace another with joy.
But oh, it is hard, to want her adoration and receive only polite smiles instead. I get to my feet, wincing at the squish of my leathers as I move. I get a bowl of water and use tongs to put a hot rock from the fire into it, then turn my back to her and clean my cock off, switching to a fresh loincloth. She says nothing as I change
clothes, and I feel even more alone.
I remind myself that she kissed me.
I remind myself that she reached for my cock. I did not force her. She wanted me.
It must be enough for now. I take the bowl of warm water and sit down next to her on the furs. “May I wash you, my mate?”
“I can do it,” she says quickly, and takes the bowl from me.
Even this small pleasure, I am denied. I bite back a sigh.
Slow. I must move slow.
