“Okay, this is getting just a bit freaky. If you’re gonna jerk me off at least use your hand.” That coil of hair slipped beneath his pants, popping open the button and circling his hard dick.
Oh, God. He was about to go off like a rocket. He knew he was. He drew his legs up in protest, although it was half-hearted most.
She stilled and said something that sounded like a question. Was she asking him if he wanted to continue? Or was she telling him that he had a choice, let her fuck him or end up in the pot? Fucked if he knew.
The coils of hair disappeared from around his wrists and cock, and she slid her hand out from under his shirt. Disappointment filled him, hard and sharp, as she turned him, so his back was to her. She pulled him against her, swinging her arm and leg over him, spooning him from behind.
His cock throbbed insistently. The feel of her behind him only made matters worse, and Rich knew he’d be getting very little sleep tonight.
Shit.
***
Laylla lay there confused and uncertain. She knew the male ached. That he needed release. And yet, when she had offered he had refused her. Or at least, that is what she had gathered from the way he had pulled his legs up close to his chest.
She didn’t understand at all. She’d felt the hardness of his shaft. Everyone knew that males did not sleep well while they were in need. It was why they were often serviced each evening, and for the most virulent among them in the mornings as well. Although, there were not many males who needed servicing twice a day anymore. Most of their male population was aging. They needed new males. Younger, healthier males like this one.
He'd seemed almost shocked that she would serve him food and drink first. But all males took that as their right, didn’t they? To be served before a female. To have their needs—all of their needs—taken care of.
This male was most confusing. Did his females not care for him properly where he came from? Is that why he found himself alone and traveling around the skies unprotected and uncared for?
Perhaps it was up to her to show him how a male should truly be cared for.
There was no denying she was attracted to him. The folds between her legs were slick with dew, and her insides throbbed with the desire to take him deep inside her. She had never felt this way towards any of the males in their village.
He was strong for a male. And attractive. He would create tough, strong female babies.
Hmm, perhaps it was something to think about. If she could find the time to train him, he might make a good match.
Chapter Three
Finally, the female fell asleep, her hold on him lessening. Rich slowly counted to two hundred to ensure she was in a deeper sleep before slipping from beneath her hold. He held his breath as she mumbled something. When she didn’t move, he made his way to the front of the shelter and peered out. Where were those damn guards? The fire was still burning, but the moon had drifted behind a cloud so he couldn’t see much.
Well, if he couldn’t see, then neither could they, he reasoned.
Still, to be safe he’d head for the shadows and….he let out a yell as something curled around his ankle just as he was about to make his move.
Fuck.
He glanced back to find Laylla sitting up. She barked something at him.
“Um, I had to take a piss.”
She moved closer to him, and he pointed out at the trees then pointed down at his crotch. Fuck, was this the most embarrassing moment of his life or what?
Nope, a few minutes later as they stood in a small clearing, he discovered that things could get more embarrassing as pointed down at his crotch demandingly. Did she seriously expect him to pee while she watched?
And while he might have been using it as an excuse to explain why he was sneaking out, he now really needed to go.
He turned around then glanced at her over his shoulder as he went about his business. But she didn’t appear to be watching him. Instead her gaze roamed the shrubbery around them. What was she looking for? There was nothing else out here but the two of them. The moon drifted out from behind a cloud, flooding them with light. Suddenly, the forest around them seemed all too menacing. Everything went silent, as though waiting.
As he finished up and stepped away, he heard a low, menacing growl. Laylla moved towards him and pushed him behind her back. She backed up slowly, holding her sword out in front of her.
Rich wisely backed up as well. Suddenly, something darted out at them. A black blur. It slammed against Laylla, pushing her to the ground and looming over her with a snarl. She brought up the hand that held the wicked knife and stabbed at the animal. It roared in anger and snapped its hideous teeth at her, barely missing her face as she dived to one side. It reminded Rich of a wolf, vicious and deadly. But this had to be at least twice the size of an ordinary wolf, and it was quick. Really quick.
Rich looked around for something to help Laylla and spotted a large stick. It wouldn’t be much of a weapon, but maybe he could distract the beast while she got in another stab. She let out a loud cry, and his heart stopped beating as he saw the beast dig its claws into her chest. He grabbed the stick and raced over, smacking the heavy branch against the beast’s head.
The beast shook its head, almost as though shaking off a buzzing bee. What was its skull made of? Concrete?
Then it turned towards Rich, eyes shining bright red, saliva dripping from its teeth. It leaped towards him. Shit, this was it.
Run!
He stumbled backwards, tripping and falling onto his ass. He threw his arm up across his face to protect himself, cringing.
Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. Then he heard a shout. He dropped his arm, blinking as he saw the beast lying on the ground. Its eyes stared up at him, blank and full of death. Two arrows protruded from its side.
He panted heavily, drawing air into his tight lungs. Laylla let out a low moan, and he turned towards her. She was hurt. He took a few steps towards her when two women ran into the clearing and crouched over her. One of them raced off, while the other one tore at Laylla’s suit.
Was she okay? Was she alive?
Another female rushed over, holding a cloth which she pressed against Laylla’s chest. Suddenly, Rich realized that this would be the perfect time to slip away. But could he leave, knowing she was injured?
What do you care? She means nothing to you.
He moved slowly backward. But no one was paying him any attention. They were too busy taking care of Laylla’s injury. He turned and nearly plowed right into the female with the limp. He noticed that she held a bow in her right hand. Had she been the one who had shot the beast?
“Markug,” she told him.
He held his hands out with a smile. “Sorry, I don’t understand. I was just going to head back towards the camp. See.” He stepped around her and slowly moved towards the camp, hoping she didn’t follow him. He glanced over his shoulder to see her watching him suspiciously. He smiled widely and pointed at the shelter he’d come from.
As soon as he was inside, he moved to the far side and pulled it up, crawling out. As he stood, something whipped around his wrist. What the hell? He glanced down to see dark hair circling his right wrist then his left. He looked up to see the female with the limp glaring at him from a few feet away.
Well, shit.
***
“Enough. Leave me,” Laylla barked at Sirya and Caria.
She breathed in deeply, trying not to wince at the pain in her chest. The narkle beast had swiped its claws across her chest, barely missing her right nipple. The pain was intense, and she had to work hard not to let the agony show on her face.