“So, the women’s hut was interesting,” Molly murmured once she was seated beside him on the broad, cushiony leaves of the cantan tree which were placed on the ground around the large central crystal fire. “How did you like the male’s hut?” she asked.
Braxx had to hold back the growl that wanted to rise in his throat. How had he liked the male’s hut? Not very fucking much.
The problem had been that Drogor was there, talking about Molly, about how sweet her scent was and how he was certain she would taste just as good as she smelled. Braxx had nearly come to blows with the Deep Dweller, because he wouldn’t stop bragging about how he would claim her. Finally, he’d gotten right up in the big male’s face and informed him that he’d better stop.
“Molly is my female—mine,” he’d growled, glaring at the other male. He knew Drogor probably couldn’t see the expression on his face very well but he hoped he could smell his aggression. “You better fucking stop talking about her or we’re going to have trouble—understand?”
“You talk a good game, off-worlder,” Drogor taunted. “But your scent is nowhere to be found on her. Are you going to pledge to her tonight? Are you going to mark her with your scent?”
“I am already pledged to her,” Braxx snapped.
“A pledge is nothing without scent,” Drogor said dismissively. “We will speak no more of this, off-worlder. But Molly from the Stars, will be mine.”
The exchanged worried Braxx—scent-marking Molly was out of the question. Though they had admitted an attraction to each other, scent-marking—at least the way Kindred did it—was an extremely intimate activity. Molly barely knew him—he couldn’t ask her to open herself to him for something like that, as much as he would have fucking loved to do it.
For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine it—imagine spreading her legs and pressing his mouth and face to her sweet pussy, rubbing his cheeks against her outer pussy lips and them opening her to lick and taste her inner folds…
Stop it, he told himself. She’s too good for you and you know it. If she knew your past…if she could see your face…
But she couldn’t, which was what made her so damn attractive. Well, that and the fact that she was fucking gorgeous and smelled amazing. And she was intelligent and funny and had a warm, sweet, personable nature… Actually, Braxx couldn’t blame Drogor for falling instantly head-over-heels for the beautiful Anthropologist—that was exactly what he himself had done.
But it couldn’t be between them—not now and maybe not ever. Though she had been willing to talk about her own sad past with him, Braxx wasn’t nearly so eager to tell Molly of his own past tragedy. He was certain that if she could see his face and if she knew the details of the wreck that had maimed him and killed his brother, she would want nothing to do with him.
He had good reason to think that. Hadn’t Danella left after seeing his scarred and twisted face? And she hadn’t even known the whole story behind his scars.
Why would another female act differently? Braxx asked himself. The answer came back—she wouldn’t.
So he couldn’t tell Molly about his past in any more detail than he already had and couldn’t risk getting any closer to her. As for marking her—that was completely out of the question. It was much too intimate.
The problem was, without being able to mark her, he could only face Drogor off with words or fists and he was getting genuinely worried that the Deep Dweller might try something.
There was a long history among the Tal’ossi of males from one village stealing females from another and carrying them off to be their mates. Braxx wouldn’t put it past the big Deep Dweller to try something like that. Even now he was watching—or smelling them—across the fire, his face and body turned attentively towards where Braxx and Molly were sitting. Braxx wished he could go punch the other male in the face but he doubted that would be acceptable behavior among the Tal’ossi, especially during an important feast.
“Braxx? I said, how did you like the men’s hut? Hey—are you all right? You’re so quiet.” Molly put one hand lightly on his knee. “And wow—you feel really tense!” she remarked.
“I am fucking tense,” Braxx growled in frustration. Then, seeing the shocked look on her face, he added, “Forgive my language but no, I did not like the male’s hut because that Goddess-damned Drogor wouldn’t stop talking about how sweet your scent is and how he plans to claim you.”
“Really?” Molly looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Wow, he’s really fixated on me, huh? I never should have put on perfume today. Or maybe it’s my deodorant he’s smelling.”
Braxx thought it was more likely that the Deep Dweller was actually smelling Molly’s own sweet scent, not any perfume or deodorant, but he didn’t want to worry her.
“Whatever it is, I’m beginning to think I might have to fight him,” he said grimly. “Just to keep his filthy hands off you.”
“Oh my!” Molly exclaimed. “No, Braxx—I don’t want you to do that! This isn’t high school. I don’t need two guys fighting over me.”
“You might not have a choice. Unless you’d rather be claimed by that bastard of a Deep Dweller,” Braxx growled.
“But…but there must be another way!” Molly protested. “A way to make him believe that I’m yours.”
“Short of scent-marking you, I don’t know what we could do,” Braxx said, frowning.
“You said something like that before and Drogor keeps talking about how he doesn’t uh, smell you on me.” Molly’s voice was both curious and embarrassed. “So what exactly would be involved in scent-marking me?”
Braxx cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Well, the Tal’ossi method of scent-marking isn’t that different from the Kindred method, actually.”
“What? Scent-marking is a custom with the Kindred too?” She sounded intensely interested.
“It…can be,” Braxx admitted haltingly. “But usually only between a male and female who are mated or plan to be mated.”
“So how is it accomplished?” Molly asked. “Can you tell me, or is it taboo to speak of it in your culture?”
“It’s not taboo exactly but it might be embarrassing,” Braxx murmured. Most of the village was getting settled around the fire now and he had the sense that the feast was about to begin so he kept his voice low.
“Just tell me,” Molly said. “I’ve studied all kinds of customs from cultures all over the world—I won’t be embarrassed.”
“Very well.” Braxx shrugged though he knew she couldn’t see him. “In order to scent-mark you, I would need to rub my face and lips between your legs.”
“Between my…why?” Despite her promise not to be embarrassed, there was a breathless quality to Molly’s voice and her cheeks were glowing a soft pink. “I mean what would that accomplish?”
“It would cover your scent with my own,” Braxx explained. “You see, what Drogor is smelling when he speaks of your scent isn’t your perfume or your deodorant or any of the other artificial smells you Earth females use—it’s the sweet scent of your sex—your pussy,” he clarified.
“My…oh!” Molly drew her knees in tight, pressing her thighs together and her cheeks got even pinker.
“It’s a good scent,” Braxx hastened to assure her. “Goddess-damned intoxicating if you want to know the truth. I noticed your scent almost the first moment I met you. It’s bewitching.”
“Seriously? Intoxicating? Bewitching?” Molly gave a nervous little laugh. “Wow, I never imagined…I mean…” She cleared her throat. “But I still don’t see how…how you, uh rubbing your face against me there would help.”
“Kindred have scent glands on and around their mouths,” Braxx explained. “I would have to rub mine against the source of your sweet scent in order to cover it with my own. It’s the only way.”
“The only way,” Molly echoed and gave a nervous little laugh. “Really? I mean, couldn’t you just—you know—rub your cheeks against my inner thighs?”
“I doubt that would be enough to cover your natural scent.” Braxx looked at her intently. “In order to do that, I would have to spread your legs and press my mouth to your sex. I might even have to spread your pussy lips and rub against your inner folds to be on the safe side.”
“My…my inner folds?” Molly’s breath was coming quicker now and she put a hand to her chest, as though to stop her pounding heart. “Why…I don’t understand…”
“Because that’s where your juices come from—your pussy honey,” Braxx explained in a low voice. “In all probability I would have to use my tongue to spread my scent deep inside you. I’d have to press deep in your channel to cover the source of your own sweet scent.”
“You…I…” Molly cleared her throat. “Well, I mean, I’m sure it won’t come to that. You wouldn’t have to, uh…”
“Would have to?” Braxx repeated incredulously. “It would be my pleasure, Molly. Rubbing against you, covering your sweet scent with my own, tasting you…” Gods—just the thought of it had him rock hard beneath the grass kilt he wore. He could imagine himself between her thighs, spreading her wide to press his tongue deep inside her cleft, to taste her honey straight from the source…
He shifted uncomfortably. His arousal meant his shaft poked out from between the silky strands of the grass kilt he wore but he had observed in earlier visits that the Tal’ossi didn’t seem bothered by such displays so he made no move to cover himself.
“Braxx!” Molly was biting her lower lip but he could tell by the way her scent had intensified that she wasn’t put off by his detailed description of how he would scent-mark her if he could. In fact, if anything, his sensitive Kindred nose told him that her female desire had climbed a notch, making her smell better than ever. Hotter. Wetter.
Across the crystal fire, he could see Drogor’s nostrils flare in appreciation. Damn it, he was making this whole situation worse rather than better!
“Forgive me,” he said quietly, trying to take the situation down a notch. “I was simply answering your question—telling you what would be involved in scent-marking you.”
“That’s okay. Whew…” She fanned her flushed cheeks with one hand. “Is it hot out here? Because I’m feeling kind of overheated.”
“Your cheeks are very red,” Braxx remarked. “I’m sorry if what I said upset you. I did warn you it might be embarrassing.”
“Oh, I’m not embarrassed,” she said quickly, but he thought it was a lie. “I was just…I mean…”
But just then, Eldest, the chieftain of the clan, called for quiet.
“We come together this night for a feast of Pledging,” he proclaimed loudly, his voice ringing out around the gathered circle of people who immediately fell silent. “And to honor our two guests, Braxx from the Sky and Molly from the Stars who comes to know the People.”
The Tal’ossi made a strange popping-clicking sound with their mouths all at once and Braxx nodded at them.
“What are they doing?” Molly asked in a low voice. “What is that noise?”
“It’s their version of applause,” Braxx murmured. “Just nod and smile.”
Molly did so and Elder continued.
“So—first the feasting and then the Pledging,” he said. “I will ask She who Leads to step forward.”
“She who Leads is the chieftain’s sister,” Braxx explained to Molly softly. “She has the highest status of any female except for the Wise One. She’s going to supervise the distribution of the food.”
“I can’t see any of it but I can smell it coming,” Molly remarked. Her nose twitched appreciatively. “Smells good—is it safe to eat?”
“Tal’ossi metabolism is very close to both Earth and Kindred metabolism,” Braxx assured her. “It’s one of the reasons I came to Tal’os in the first place seeking possible trade partners. So the food should be safe to eat.”
“Good—I’m starving.” Molly’s nose twitched again. She appeared to have gotten over her embarrassment and her scent had died down again.
Good, Braxx thought, glaring again at Drogor. Anything to keep that bastard away from her.
He vowed to himself that he would keep his pledge to Molly and protect her—no matter how he had to do it.