She makes a high-pitched, keening noise, her legs jerking against my shoulders, I can feel her hands tighten on my horns, and her breath puffs out rapidly. “Yes,” she pants. “Yes! My mate!”

I growl with pleasure at the sound of that. I know how to touch her, how to make her body sing like her khui does. I know everything she likes, and it feels as if I have been given a gift to be able to touch her once more. I do not care about the need throbbing in my cock. I do not care about myself. There is only my mate, Asha, who must be pleasured. I want to make her come, want to taste the juices that will flow when her body clenches up and she screams out her release. She is so wet right now, so full of need that I cannot stop pumping my tongue into her sweetness, lapping it up and pleasuring her at the same time. She whimpers, the sound sweet and agonizing all at once.

I grip the base of her tail tighter, and she squirms in my arms, wild. I cannot use my tongue fast enough, so I decide to use my hand, as well. I lick her folds as my fingers push into her sheath, and use my hand as I would my cock, thrusting into her with my fingers, until she is crying out my name once more and her juices flood onto my hand. I enjoy her shudders, leisurely licking her clean as she comes down from her pleasure, until she pushes my face away and collapses on the furs.

“I was not sure if I was dreaming,” Asha murmurs as I lick my way up her belly to her hard, perfect little teats. I cannot resist tasting the nipples, just once.

“Not a dream,” I tell her, my voice raspy with need. “Just your mate desperate for a taste of you.”

She gives a dreamy sigh and traces her fingers along the length of one of my horns. “Shall I do the same for you?”

I shake my head and drag my tongue over one of her hard nipples, then roll back onto the furs. “No.”

“No?” She sits up and rests on an elbow, looking at me in surprise. “You do not want my touch?”

I want her touch. I want it more than anything. But I want it freely given, not as thanks for my pleasuring her. “It is late, and you are tired. Rest.”

She is quiet in the dark, and then prods my arm with a finger. “I thought we were supposed to talk to each other.”

I chuckle, because Asha knows me better than anyone else. “Fair enough. I want your touch, but I want it too much. If you put a hand on me, I will throw you down on these furs and thrust into your cunt until dawn.”

She shivers. “And this is a bad thing?”

“I want it to be because you want it freely, not because I have licked you and made you feel good.” I pause and then look over at her. “I want it to be your idea. It does not mean the same if it is something I have convinced you to do.”

Asha nods slowly. “I understand, I think. And for me to touch you right now would not be the same, would it?”

It would be pleasurable, but it would not be what my spirit craves. I want my mate back at my side in every way. I want her heart and her body to be with me, not just her body. I swallow back my raging need and nod.

“Very well.” She curls up against my side again and pulls the blankets over us. A yawn escapes her, and she is quiet for a long time. I lie in the darkness, gazing at the embers of the fire and trying to ignore the pulsing throb of my cock. Asha is quiet for so long that I am convinced she has drifted off to sleep. But then, she speaks. “So I am to pounce you, it seems. A surprise pouncing.”

I chuckle. “I suppose so. But it has to be something you want.” I squeeze her shoulder, hugging her tight against me. “If you are not ready, I am content to wait.”

Most of me, anyhow.

OceanofPDF.com

16

ASHA

The metlaks have not come back, so there is no reason for us to stay in the cave much longer. Part of me is sad to see the root uneaten in the morning. It means that they will either feed themselves…or starve to death. Hemalo is right, though. I cannot care for a family of metlaks, not when food is so precious to the sa-khui in the brutal season. I miss the warm, fuzzy bundle of Shasak, though, and my heart aches at the thought of him going hungry. I will always worry, I suppose. Hemalo says there is nothing wrong with that, and I agree. It is just who I am. I want to take care of a kit, any kit, given to me.

I am not completely focused on metlaks this frosty morning, though. There is no snow falling this morning, but the skies look gloomy and dark, and we will stay put until it clears once more and then head back to the vee-lage. Hemalo, ever busy, finds things to do around the cave. He has already sharpened his weapons, packed his bag, and is now scraping the skin of a snowcat pulled from the nearby cache. I repaired a hole in one of my boots, but as the morning wears on, I find myself bored. I pick up a basket of dried leaves to sort into tea flavors, but my mind is not focused. It is quiet, and I find myself unable to sit still for long. It is not just the concern over Shasak and his family. It is my own unfulfilled resonance and my relationship with my mate that my mind keeps focusing on.

Last night, I was restless in my sleep, and he comforted me with his mouth. I had not realized how much the resonance was affecting me until he put his tongue on my skin, and then I was full of need. I loved every moment of it, and it felt so right to be together again. It felt…good. Perfect. But then he did not want me to touch him in return, and it hurt. I am glad he told me his reason, but I am still fretting about it this morning. His words were not unkind, but I still feel rejected.

And that is why I do not move to him right now and demand that he mate with me. Because deep down, I still worry he will reject me like he has in the past. That I will do something wrong and he will leave me once more. I know it is a silly fear, and he has reassured me, but I cannot help it. I need to be less afraid before I can move forward.

I gaze down at the basket between my legs, frowning.

“What troubles you?” Hemalo asks, not looking up from the skin he is scraping.

The words I want to say stick in my throat. “It is nothing.”

“A lie,” he says calmly. “Not even a good one.”

I hate that he is right. The truth will not budge from my mouth, though, so I cast about for something else to tell him, anything that will distract him. My gaze focuses on his mouth, the soft, fascinating line of it. “Mouth-mating,” I blurt out. “Kissing.”

That gets his attention. He stiffens and glances over at me, the look in his eyes full of heat. “What of it?”

“What made you decide to try it?”

He gazes at me for so long that I feel my khui begin to hum in response. “The hunters seem to enjoy it with their human mates.”

He speaks the truth. Every time I turn around, it seems that a human is putting her mouth on her mate. It is not a sa-khui custom, but that does not mean it is bad. It just seems very…intimate. I toss the idea around in my mind and then say, bravely, “I should like to try it again.”

“The mouth-mating?”

I nod. I feel very skittish. If he turns me down, I do not know what I will do. The humans always look so glad to be mouth-mating. But what if Hemalo is not feeling very ‘mouthy’ at the moment? What if—

“Let us try,” he says quickly, interrupting my worried thoughts. He puts aside the skin he is working on and rinses his hands in the small bowl of meltwater he keeps at his side. The flutter of excitement in my belly grows as he moves to sit next to me, and when I remain still, he reaches out and takes the basket gently out of my lap. “Shall we move this?”