GREN

I have exhausted my sweet Willa.

She curls up against me as I fall back and stare up at the ceiling of the cave, panting. Willa smacks her lips twice, twines her fingers in my chest fur, and then drops off into a steady slumber that I am loath to wake. My cock is slick with release, and it yet throbs as if ready to take her again, but she is tired.

I, too, need a moment to collect my thoughts. I press my hand to my brow, still stunned by what just happened. I did not mean for it to occur. One moment, Willa leans over me, and the next, I cannot control myself. I rip her clothing off her body, push her down to the furs, and sink deep between her thighs. I thrust and thrust until my release exploded through me, so hard that it felt as if my heart was trembling in my chest. When I realized what I'd done, my mind filled with memories of other gladiators claiming their “prizes,” crying females that they mounted in front of all who watched. I swore I would never do such a thing, and yet, here I have done so…to my Willa.

But she does not weep like the other females did. She wiggles against me and touches me, petting my fur, and her hands are all over my body, as if she wants more of my touch. Her smile is radiant, and she reassures me with our pitiful language that she liked my touch. And because I cannot help myself, I take her again.

It is only during the third round when she puts my hand on her teat that I realize she has not climaxed, either. Then, I make it my goal to see her come, and she goes wild when I rub the small, pinkish-brown bud atop her teat and I lick at her mouth. When she comes, her cunt tightens around my cock so fiercely that it spurs another fierce climax through me, more pleasurable than the ones before.

As she sleeps, I think about all this. I must remember these things for the next time that I claim her as my victory spoils. I have fought no arena battle, so this feels a bit like cheating an unseen opponent, but I do not care. Willa is mine.

I think about the touches she liked, because I will need to do them again. She liked her teats played with. She liked it when I licked her mouth, and she shivered when I ran my hands over her skin. I wonder if she is sensitive in other spots as well? Next time, I will explore all of her, I decide. I want to see her clench all over again, the startled expression on her face and the little cry she made.

I loved that little cry. Just thinking about it now makes my sac tighten, as if it is full of seed once more.

I rub my chest, my heart still racing and throbbing. I notice Willa's is making the same strange sound, a bit like a low, muffled drumbeat. I do not know what is causing it, but I wonder if that is why I lost control. Willa did not lose control, though. I continue to rub my chest, curious. I will ask her about it when she awakens, but right now, she needs to sleep. I do not like the hollows under her eyes.

I want to take care of her, and now that I am not dying, I will. Already I feel the strength flooding back into me, as if I have been pumped full of stims. Perhaps that is why my heart races…but that does not explain why Willa's does. It is curious and I have not experienced this before. I inhale sharply, and the scents of the others linger in the cave. I attune to the sounds in the cave, and beyond the drumming of my chest, Willa's chest, her breathing, and the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance…there are other sounds. Two people, also sleeping.

The healer and her mate. They are still here, across the cave from us.

They heard us mating, I think. Especially the male. Even in scattered memories, I remember him moving around the cave, helping Willa with the fire as I drifted back to sleep. He will have heard me claiming Willa.

I bare my teeth at the ceiling in feral pleasure. Good. Let him hear me claim her. Let my audience know that I have won my mate, and I will be keeping her.

Because Willa is my mate. I do not care what anyone else thinks, only that I will never let her go again. I hold her close, but I am unable to sleep, my mind alert. I listen to the sounds in the cave, picking through the myriad scents here. They seem stronger than before, and I suspect my senses were dulled by the fever when we arrived. The scent of leather is overwhelming. It was the scent I followed to bring Willa here, because I knew where there would be leather, there would be safety. The scent of food is here, too—supplies—and my mouth waters. Perhaps I will eat something while Willa sleeps.

I carefully detangle myself from my clinging, lovely female, and I feel a surge of pleasure in my chest when she makes a sleepy protest, reaching for me. I notice that her thighs gleam wet with my release, and a vision of her tenderly bathing me flashes through my mind.

I can tend to her like she has to me.

I skulk around the cave, avoiding the other male and his mate, and find a waterskin hanging from an outcropping on the cave wall. I take it and grab a bit of leather and wet it, returning to Willa's side. She sleeps peacefully, her cheek resting on one hand, and I hesitate to touch her. The last time I tried to touch her cunt with snow, she shrieked her unhappiness. I crouch next to her head, thinking, and then reach down to caress my mate's soft cheek.

She shivers but doesn't awaken, snuggling further down into the furs as if seeking their warmth.

Ah. Perhaps it is the cold that bothers her, then. I think for a moment, then hold the waterskin under one arm, using my body heat to warm the contents. As I wait for it to warm, I watch Willa sleep. I could watch her forever and not grow bored, I think. I imagine her waking up and smiling at me, her small, soft human hand reaching out for my claws, and the thrumming in my chest grows louder, as if pleased.

Is that coincidence or something else?

When the water is no longer ice cold, I wet the fur and gently push Willa's thighs apart. She sighs and rolls onto her back, looking up at me sleepily. "Gren?"

"Willa," I murmur, then show her the towel. I have no word for bath, so I reach down and gently stroke the wet cloth down one thigh to show her what I intend.

"Mmm. Danku," she mumbles, her eyes sliding shut again. She spreads her legs for me and it almost seems as if she is drowsing back to sleep, full of trust that I will take care of her. Humbled, I carefully tend to my mate, cleaning my seed from her slippery thighs. I freeze when I see a hint of blood. Did I hurt her with my enthusiasm? I panic at the thought…

And then I remember her smile and welcoming arms. Perhaps a spot of blood—and there is not much—is normal for human females. I will trust Willa’s reactions, though my spirit shrivels at the thought of harming her without realizing it. I clean her gently, carefully noting her female parts as I do. She has pink folds here, some large and some small, framing the opening of her cunt. I want to touch her there, because she still looks wet and inviting no matter how many times I towel her, but I do not. She must sleep, I remind my aching, stiff cock. Her folds are appealing, I decide, as are the dark curls that top them, and they have the most enticing scent of her musk. Tucked between her folds is a button of flesh, and I remember touching it. I want to see her reaction when I caress it like I did the nub on her teat.

Now I really want to wake her.

Scowling at my own impatience, I move away from her, wet the towel, and scrub my own aching cock with fierce, angry motions that somehow still feel good.

It will be a long wait until she awakens, but she is worth it. A noise comes from the far side of the cave, of furs rustling as if in sleep, and I consider the other male still in the cave. Should I chase him out? Declare this territory as mine? But his mate still slumbers, and I wonder if she made herself sick healing me.

I decide they can stay, as long as they do not stop me from touching my Willa.

I consider the waterskin and think of Willa trudging out of the lean-to over and over again to fill it with snow while I lay on the ground, sick with infected bites. I can fill this for her. I head to the front of the cave, intending to refill it with snow, and when I go outside, I pick up new scents on the air. Two other males wait below—mesakkah males—and I smell fire. They are camping below.

Is it because they intend on taking Willa from me? I growl low in my throat at the thought, crouching so I will not be seen in the shadows.

I will not let them take her. Not now, not ever.