Raven had no illusions. All the same, something in her was still shocked when Kane lowered himself over her, blocking out the entire sky with the vastness of his body. His legs pushed against hers, forcing her wider even through she was not resisting. She felt his engorgement pushing at her, and it was not just his cock but his whole body that was rigid and unyielding as stone.

‘He’s being careful,’ she realized, and some of the terror of the moment subsided. ‘He’s not going to break anything. He’s not going to kill me. He’s probably going to hurt me, but it won’t be on purpose.’

And just as she thought that, he thrust and was inside her.

She couldn’t catch the rusty cry that tore out of her or stop her hands from flying up and pushing at him, but he didn’t retaliate. He might not even have noticed. He kept thrusting, splitting her a little wider with each movement, but he didn’t hit her. He didn’t call her names or grab her neck. He wasn’t raping her. She wouldn’t let this be rape.

Raven burst into great, braying tears. She bit her fist to try and stifle them, but she couldn’t stop them. Kane turned his face to her and snarled, the sound chopping against her ears in time with his ragged breath, but she still couldn’t stop herself. She put her arm around his neck instead, trying to show him she was behaving, and he accepted the apology by surging even harder against her.

She felt a shudder pass through him, through both of them since they were so tightly joined, and the pain of sex eased. The first cumming slicked his passage, and Raven choked on her sobs and tried to relax. There were things she could be doing to help him. She wanted to help him. He wasn’t raping her.

He just wasn’t.

Raven brought her legs up and crossed them behind his jerking hips, bringing him even deeper home. It was like being punched repeatedly in the stomach, but she could rise above it. She squeezed him, grinding upwards to meet his thrusts, and heard his low groan as he came again and again.

‘Be rough,’ she thought, remembering how he’d pumped at her mouth the night before, how he’d made her pull and work at him. She slipped her foot down between his thighs and pressed her heel about where his balls would be if he had any. She had touched him there while trying to suck him off, and felt something blistering hot and churning in a hard lump beneath his skin. She didn’t need an alien anatomy lesson to know it was the place that was hurting him.

She rubbed there now, lightly digging in her heel, and Kane uttered a hoarse howl and came in explosive succession. She pushed a little harder, flexing her leg, moving with him from both directions, and he suddenly swung his head, his sharp teeth snapping shut right in front of her. Raven stopped moving entirely, but Kane was already looking at her dazedly. He bent, breathing hard, and nipped at her cheek, then howled again as another spasm shot through him.

Not an attack, she thought, her heart staggering inside her. Just a love bite. One he realized at the last second would probably tear her throat out. He was being careful. She reached back with her heel again, and cautiously renewed her movements

Kane reared up and punched his claws deep into the ground, one hand at a time, securing himself with a violence that made every muscle of his body stand out in sharp relief. He arched back, his throat working in silence, and finally let go. She felt a jet of his cum drumming up inside her and then pouring out of her around his thickness, hot and wet as blood. He thrust once more and Raven squeezed as hard as she could, milking one last shudder from him. Then he fell, knocking the breath from her as his weight dropped over her and filling her mouth and nose with the smell of him, of both of them.

Raven wiped at her eyes, struggling for calm and finally managed to achieve it.

Kane growled, but it wasn’t an angry sound at all. Slowly, he pushed off her and stood naked and sheened with sweat, looking every bit as tired as she felt. His eyes moved over her with clinical thoroughness. “Well?” he said at last.

Raven moved shaking fingers and smoothed down her skirt. “I’ve had better,” she said numbly.

Kane laughed, an exhausted sound, and began to dress.

Raven sat up slowly, testing the ache in her muscles, and slid herself back from the muddy mix of cum and dirt they had made. “I’ve had worse, too,” she added, reasoning that it wasn’t a good idea to insult him.

“Flatterer.” Kane caught her arm and helped her to her feet, assessing her with his eyes again. He grunted approval when she managed a step, and then let her arm drop. “It’ll get easier,” he said, and turned away, snapping his fingers for her to follow.

Raven started to hobble after him, one hand pressed for comfort’s sake to the throbbing bruise her pussy had become. It probably would get easier, too. In some ways, that was the worst part.

*

The sex was good. The human, being as small as she was, couldn’t help but close on him tighter than any fist, and even if she’d been wailing at him the whole time, at least she’d tried to move around a little. It got the job done, that was the thing; it emptied him of seed and sweat and mindless rage and let Kane think with clarity again, so the sex had to be judged good. It was nothing like sex with a normal female, but the worst sex in the world would still be pretty damned good under these conditions.

To be fair, all of Kane’s sexual experience could be summed up by his furloughs to the Flesh-halls of Jota and by Tari’i Sunorrok, the Yevoa Null’s navigator. As the only female aboard ship she had first choice of mates, and if her choice was not always Kane, it was often enough that Kane never felt the lack. Now that was some great sex. The last time he’d taken a roll with that fine female, she’d broken his collarbone in two places and he hadn’t even noticed until after. Ah, Tari’i. Gone now, like the rest of them. Probably in the Dan-tar Prison Port, where she could trade a lifetime in confinement for a mere fifty years, provided she agreed to breed ten or twelve offspring. And she should. The universe needed more like Tari’i.

Kane glanced around to see how his human was holding up. He didn’t like what he saw. She’d done nothing but slow down ever since the sun fell, but she was limping now as well. It was hard to judge her color by the light of the half-moon, but he thought her eyes looked smudgy and sunken all the same. Her mouth was open, and he could hear her breath rattling as she walked.

She needed to drink. She probably thought she needed to eat, too, but water was the critical thing. If she didn’t get some of that before sun-up, she’d probably die. Kane knew there was a river around here somewhere—the river where his yellow-haired first attempt had killed herself—but he’d lost track of it in the days before encountering Raven. Now it could be anywhere. The plants he passed were dried out and dying; he’d seen no real game.

Ah, but there was one hope left to him. In the dark, any lights cast by human camps would be more visible. Kane knew the woods were inhabited. It was just a matter of time before he stumbled into one. His human had only to survive until then.

No sooner had that comforting thought crossed Kane’s mind than he heard a low moan behind him. He turned just in time to see his human pick up her foot, put it down in front of her, and then just fold up and drop. Her body slammed into the ground hard enough to knock up a little cloud of dust and her breath came out of her in a retching cough. She began to make that gaspy wailing sound, but her eyes made no water.

Hell.

Kane walked back to her, reminding himself that she couldn’t help it, the nanozymes had half-parched her already and the dry heat had done the rest. She was human, she was fragile, and it wasn’t her fault.