She is fragile, my Har-loh. I must make sure I take good care of her. The thrumming in my chest demands it.
I feel strange around her. Possessive. I’ve seen the bad ones and have never felt about them the way I do about this strange, flat-faced female. There’s something about her that gnaws at me, that makes me want to spend every moment with her in the cave, watching her. To feed her from my hand and to go out and collect all the dung I can find so she can have the fire she so desperately needs.
I killed a creature for her earlier and brought the meat back to her. She ate it, but it was clear she was not pleased. I need to find what pleases her.
She yawns, and the motion is delicate and feminine, her small hand going to her mouth. “Tmrrohweneedhabigkilltewskinfrblankits.” She rambles sounds when she needs to communicate, and I watch her small mouth work around the noises. I want to desperately know what she is saying, but I am ignorant.
It frustrates me.
Har-loh gives me a sleepy smile. “Wishewhaddapilloh.”
Even though her face is flat and her brow is not ridged in the slightest, she is utterly beautiful in that moment. I feel the urge to touch her, and I reach out and take her hand in mine. She has one more finger than I do, and they’re cold against mine. I can feel her startle but a moment later she relaxes and grips my hand back.
“Har-loh,” I say in a low voice. Her skin is so soft. I want to explore all of it, to see what lies underneath the heavy furs she insists on wearing. Her scent emanates in the cave and it makes my cock stir.
A shiver moves through her and she bites her lip. For a moment I think she’s cold, but then her chest vibrates hard, singing like mine is, and I realize she is feeling the same things I am.
Encouraged, my hand goes to my cock.
“No!” she says quickly. She looks embarrassed and gives a small shake of her head. “Dondoodat.”
I frown. Being around her – smelling her incredible scent, touching her skin, hearing her song – all of it makes me want to touch my cock. But she has used the ‘no’ word and I want to please her. Aching with need, I force myself to let go of her hand and I back away.
She settles in the corner of the cave, pulling her clothes tight around her, and goes to sleep.
? ? ?
Night. It’s dark, and the inside of the cave is bitter with cool air. Something is clattering and has awoken me. I immediately reach for my weapons, then realize that the sound is coming from Har-loh.
Her small, blunt teeth are chattering together with cold.
I go to the fire but it is out, the scent of smoke replaced by nothing but ashes. There is no way for me to make her warm. I growl in frustration.
“R-R-Rukh?” she says between chattering teeth. “Thaty-y-yew?”
“Har-loh. Fire?”
“Toodarkh,” she says between clacks of her jaw. When she doesn’t get up to fix it, I realize she is telling me she can’t, for whatever reason. I am hit with a sense of worry – what if I can’t take care of her? I brought her to this place; what if it kills her?
I move to her side and touch her face.
She leans in to my caress. “Sowarhm.” She reaches out to me with her shaking arms. “Cmere.”
I don’t understand her words but it’s clear she wants me to move closer, and I’ll take any opportunity to touch her. I slide my body down next to hers, curious. To my surprise, she immediately pulls her clothing off her body and piles it on top of me. Then, she flings herself against me and clings to my chest like a baby metlak.
I’m stunned at this. She’s baring her flesh and pressing it against me?
Her ice-cold fingers grip my sides, and she moans. Her cold feet press against my legs, and she burrows down against me. Ah. I understand now. She is seeking my heat, my warmth. It’s almost too warm for me under the pile of thick leather clothing she has thrown on top of us, but she seems pleased, so I do not move. Instead, I wrap my arms around Har-loh, pulling her closer.
The sound of pleasure she makes sends a jolt through me. My hands slide over her skin. She’s so incredibly soft. I can’t stop touching her. I don’t want to stop touching her. I touch her arm, her back, her soft buttocks. There’s no tail, which is bizarre, but my cock responds just the same. I can feel the hardness of it pressing against her belly as I hold her. It’s leaking from the tip, and I have to fight against the urge to rub up and down against her stomach.
Har-loh inhales softly and wraps her arms around me. She’s not pushing away, even though my cock is stabbing her in the stomach and leaking fluid onto her. She nestles her head under my chin and rubs her nose against my skin.