Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I can check if you like.” My fingers itch to touch her, to card my fingers through her soft-looking yellow mane. To be near her for any reason, stiff cock or not. Logic says I should stay away so I do not frighten her, but if she will invite me close, logic can go swim in the sea for all I care.
I just need to touch her.
R’slind sits up, nodding at me. “Nothing hurts, but I would feel better if I knew there was a simple explanation.” She covers her arms over her teats, which are being strangled by her odd tunic. “Don’t get weird on me.”
“I will not be weird,” I promise her. “I will do nothing more than look at your scalp—”
And touch your mane.
And your skin.
And breathe in your scent.
“—and look for wounds.”
R’slind relaxes as I get to my feet. “Thank you.”
She has not noticed my stiff cock, thank all the ancestors. The furs must be hiding it, or her dead eyes must not be able to see well in the shadows.
With careful, calm motions, I move toward her. I do not wish to startle her again, so I make sure that I keep my tail still, even though it wants to lash back and forth with joy. I can do nothing about the constant needy hum of my khui, nor the ache in my sac and erect member, but I try to ignore those parts. R’slind needs me right now. She remains seated, but I can feel her tension rising as I approach. She does not trust me yet.
“I am going to touch your mane now,” I caution her when I stand close enough. The light, delicate scent of her envelops me, and I want to groan at how perfect she smells. There is a hard, strange, astringent note to her scent and the tang of the mushrooms, but underneath is nothing but sweetness. That is her true scent.
“Okay,” R’slind breathes, and straightens her shoulders. “Tell me if you see anything.”
I slowly lower a hand to her head. Her mane is just as silky as I imagined, and feels like the softest fur underneath my touch. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself, and then I hear a low, delicious moan.
And…it is not mine.
“Oh god, you’re so warm,” R’slind breathes. “Even your hands feel good.”
“Am I hurting you?” My throat is tight around the words.
“Not at all.” She sounds relaxed, pleased. “See anything?”
“I am checking.” I skim my fingertips over her scalp, trying not to pleasure myself with caresses because I know she has no khui. She is not feeling what I am feeling just yet. I am a stranger to her, not a mate. But this moment is so close to everything I have dreamed. It is difficult to keep focus.
But she might be injured, and that should be my primary concern. So I pay attention, looking for blood or sticky parts in her hair. I look for lumps or strange growths. “I feel nothing, and I smell no blood,” I tell R’slind. “As far as I can tell, your head is fine. Does it pain you?”
“The cold bothers me more than anything,” she admits, her teeth chattering again. “How are your hands so warm?”
“It is because I have a khui. It ensures that I remain warm even when the world around me is not.”
“A khui?”
“It is a part of me.” I think carefully as to how to explain this to her, because I remember well the terror of the human females at learning that the khui is a live creature inside one’s chest. I do not want to frighten her, but she must get one, and soon. “It brings me warmth and makes my eyes glow with the fire within.”
“Oh man, I wish I had one of those,” she says with a sigh, rubbing her bare arms again. “I’m so freaking cold.”
Now is my chance. “R’slind…would you let me warm you?”
She pauses and glances up at me. “This feels like a trap.”
“It is no trap. You are cold, and I wish to share my warmth with you because you cannot make your own.” I hunt through the thick folds of my kilt and flip the inside seam up. Sure enough, the small, finger-sized spearhead I have sewn into the edge of one flap remains. I pick at the seams, working it out. “I keep this with me at all times in case mine breaks. I will give it to you and you can jab me with it if you feel I am doing something wrong. I just wish to warm you. I am your”—I nearly choke on the word—“friend.”
I am so tired of being just a friend, but I must remain strong a bit longer for R’slind. If it is true and she has just fallen from the sky sheeps, she will be confused and scared.