Eventually, we run out of things to name in the cave and proceed to bodies. She pats her curly, disheveled locks.
“Hair,” I say automatically, amused that she immediately starts finger-combing her tresses. I will make her a bone comb when we return to my home cave.
“Hair,” she grumbles, giving up on the tangles. Then she leans toward me and pats my mane. “Hair?”
“Hair,” I agree.
Her fingers move to my horns, and she lightly skims one. “Whazzis?”
“Horns,” I tell her. I scarcely dare to breathe as she traces along it. Though my horns do not have much feeling, her breasts are close to my face and the scent of her arouses me, as does her fascinated touch. I long to grab her and pull her against me. Instead, I clench my fists and force myself to remain unmoving.
“Whazzis?” she asks again, and her fingers brush over my forehead, the bony ridges there, and then my nose.
“Face?” I don’t understand what she’s asking. I touch her cheek. “Face, like yours.”
But she gives a small head shake and rubs one of the ridges with a small fingertip. It makes my cock leap to attention, and now I’m fully erect and aching, my pulse pounding directly in my groin. Her fingers touch the ridges along my nose, and then over my brows, and then brush over my heart. “Slikeharmr?”
“It’s just skin,” I tell her. Hers is smooth all over, while mine has texture in certain places. Her funny, flat brow and tiny nose look odd to me, and her comment makes me think that perhaps I look strange to her.
Her fingers trail down my chest a bit more, and she keeps touching me with soft, ticklish brushes of her fingertips. My khui vibrates with need, and I have to close my eyes to brace myself. I’m going to burst across her hand if she reaches any lower, so I grab her hand before she can keep exploring.
Georgie is in control, but I cannot take much more of this gentle exploration. If she touches me again, I’m going to throw her down on the furs and fuck her until she screams with pleasure.
GEORGIE
Vektal takes my hand in his as I run my fingers down one big shoulder. It has that ridged, gnarled armor-like plate over one bicep and the back of a hand.
“No,” he tells me in his language.
I’m confused. I thought he liked me and wanted me to touch him. His soft leather leggings can’t hide the erection straining against them. I’m a little frightened by the sheer size of it, but I know Vektal would never hurt me. He’s been fussing over me all afternoon, making sure my wrist was all right, checking my bruises, and shoving small bits of cooked food into my mouth the moment they were ready. All the while, he was touching me with possessive little touches that let me know that he was right there with me, that he was aware of me.
So to be pushed away now? When we’re learning about each other? It hurts my feelings. “No?”
He sees the hurt on my face, and I hear his chest thrumming even harder. “Georgie,” he says in that soft, unique way of his. He gestures at himself, then glances heavenward and mutters something I can’t make out.
“Are we done playing our game, then?” I ask. I was just getting to the interesting parts. And, okay, I might be flirting a bit. Because touching him and feeling that suede-like skin against mine and watching him react? It’s like catnip to a cat. He’s just so warm and has such soft skin over those rock hard muscles, and he looks at me like I hung the moon, and . . . it’s intoxicating.
I wonder if he’s attractive for his people. He’s attractive to me, now that I’ve gotten past my initial shock of the horns-and-blue-skin-and-glowing-eyes thing. His features are strong and well-defined, his nose straight and regal, even if it is ridged. His cheekbones are high, and he’s got a beautifully sculpted mouth.
And he has the most amazing shoulders and biceps. I want to fan myself just thinking about them. Fact is, he’s just pure pleasure to touch. I’ve been enjoying running my hands over him quite a bit, and I can’t get our little interlude in the stream a few hours ago out of my mind. About his hand, dragging down to my pussy and claiming it with a touch. Letting me know that he wants me if he’s going to take me up the mountain.
I’d touched him back. Gripped that big, delicious cock in my hand and gave it a squeeze to let him know I was willing to play his game.
“Georgie,” he says again. He gives me another shake of his proud head and then rubs a hand down his face in a very human-looking gesture of frustration that makes me smile.
“Yes?” I purr, sidling up to him again. Now that the cave is warm, I’ve stripped off most of the furs I was cocooned in and am down to my jumpsuit. I’m so close I can practically rub my breasts on his arm.