Chapter Eight
Torg
I did that mouth brushing thing with Starr, and she melted against me, wrapping her slender arms around my neck. The sweet, exotic scent of her breath and taste stirred my desire. Before meeting her, I could not have imagined meshing mouths with another person, but I couldn’t seem to get enough of it with her. Kissing her caused my manhood to ache with a fierce longing.
She felt so small in my arms. Dakonian females were much bigger, huskier. Almost as tall and strong as males, their quick swing could blacken a man’s eye if he didn’t duck fast enough. Starr didn’t look big enough to hurt an insect. Her tiny stature, a concern at first, had become strangely appealing. I liked holding her, the way she fit in my arms.
I’d expected to desire coupling with my mate—that was part of the reason I’d wanted one—but the intensity surprised me. Flames of lust licked at my loins, set my blood to boiling.
Until the Terrans’ arrival, we had met no outsiders. If other clans had survived the apocalypse and lived on the opposite side of our world, we had no way to find out. The members of the fifteen clans were all the people we knew. Not all of us were friends, but none of us were strangers.
However, Starr and I were strangers, and I’d vowed to be patient.
One more kiss…
“I know it’s too soon,” I murmured against her lips. I’d awakened this morning alone. It seemed like a very long time ago to me. I wrenched my mouth away to bury my face against her neck, inhaling her alluring scent. Savoring it. Dakonians had a well-developed sense of smell, scent and taste merging into one. Would she think it strange that I sniffed her?
Do what’s right. Be strong. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.” My body protested, hating me.
“I’m ready.”
Muscles tautened. The scent of her honeyed arousal worsened my hunger. I could almost taste her desire.
“Be sure.” My voice was hoarse.
She lifted her hand and stroked one of my horns. A shaft of rapture shot through my body. Even my fingertips buzzed. “I’m sure of you, and this moment.” She rose up to do that kissing thing, but I was already there, plundering for more of her sweetness.
Starr clutched my shoulders with her tiny hands. When we broke apart for air, she went for the toggles of my tunic. She worked one loose in the same time it took me to undo the other four. I flung off my shirt, toed off my boots, and tore off my pants.
Starr’s eyes widened with shock. Had I acted out of turn? Undressed too soon? I recalled her resistance to changing out of her wet clothing. Had I violated a Terran mating custom? The men there weren’t that different from us, were they? Too late, I remembered her questions about my penis. I hadn’t seen a naked Terran man—didn’t care to—maybe all my assumptions were wrong.
A blush suffused Starr’s neck and face. “Wow. You are…um…proportionate.”
I dropped to my knees in front of her. “What does that mean, proportionate?”
Pink deepened to scarlet. “Well, you’re a, uh, very tall man.”
“I’m not so tall now. I’m sitting.”
“Oh, no, you’re still tall.” She clapped a hand over her mouth as laughter bubbled from her lips. I didn’t get the sense she laughed at me, but I didn’t understand her amusement, either. We had a lot of cultural differences to clear up—to be dealt with later. Eager to see her, I pinched the hem of the tunic she wore and tugged it upward.
Merriment ceased. Her eyes grew round as I peeled the garment off her.
I had no familiarity with the gods she often referred to, but their name sprang to my lips as I gazed upon her beauty for the very first time. Her smooth skin was free of blemish, unlike my own marked by scars incurred fighting beasts and hunting kel. Her bounteous breasts would fill my hands, the hard pink tips, my mouth. Her stomach pooched out with an alluring curve. And she was yellow all over. Well, not all over, but the nest of golden curls shielding the apex of her thighs was.
I hungered for her so much, I shook with the force of it. She was perfect. I don’t know why the harsh words spilled out of my mouth. “You’re too skinny.” What a horrible thing to say! I cringed and braced for a biting retort and a cuff to the head. I deserved no less. “I-I…I’m sorry.” An apology couldn’t undo the hurtful words. Due to my loose tongue, my first mating would end in disaster.
She gaped. “You think I’m skinny?”
How could I repair what thoughtlessness had ruined? Her thinness didn’t matter to me. Our women built up fat to protect them in our icy climate. Starr was skinny—by our standards. Some hearty kel stews and roasts would fatten her up, but if she never gained another pound, she would still be beautiful to me.
She flung herself at me, grabbing my neck and hugging hard. Her luscious breasts pressed against my chest; her curly mound brushed my manhood. She was so soft, so warm. I had to stay focused, try to fix the damage my impulsive words had caused.
She attacked my face with kisses. “That’s the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.”
Nice? The translator had malfunctioned again, because she’d misunderstood. By a fortuitous error, I’d gotten a pass. Starr was sliding her naked body against mine and smashing her mouth to my lips. My horns swelled under her touch, sending sizzling sensations through my body. I groaned.
I stroked her unusual-colored hair, entranced by the liquidity of the long strands, which slipped through my fingers like water. Slick as dog snot. There was so much to discover. Her shoulders rounded softly over delicate bones. The indenture in her throat invited my lips. Her breasts filled my hands to overflowing. There, she was not skinny at all. I rubbed my thumbs over her nipples, and they hardened like illuvian pebbles but tasted as sweet as the berries we picked during the growing season.
As I suckled, Starr moaned and arched, her response heightening the desire already coursing through me. I needed to plunge my cock into my mate’s body, but I needed to please her first.
I slid a hand to the yellow curls and toyed with them then delved between her legs. Conversations with other men who’d been mated had told me what to expect but hadn’t prepared me for the revelation of her desire. Her womanhood had readied for me, releasing its honey to slicken her folds. An intense satisfaction, pride almost, swelled within me, exciting my cock to the point of pain.
When I found her pleasure nub and caressed with slow circles, her wetness increased, coating my fingers. Anticipation tightened in my chest as I probed her entrance and slid my finger inside. Slick, muscled walls squeezed. I could only imagine how it would feel to have her body grip my manhood. Soon, very soon, I would find out.
She nearly undid me when she wrapped her hands around my member and stroked me from base to tip, where my essence pearled. My cock had known no one’s touch but my own. It preferred hers. My body shuddered, and I had to grit my teeth as lust burgeoned, surging so close to the surface I feared I would spill myself in her hands. I’d waited so long. I growled a warning, but instead of ceasing, she tightened her grasp around my manhood.
Before I shamed myself, I wrenched away. Later, when my control was not so tenuous, I could pleasure her slowly, multiple times. We had a lifetime of long nights ahead of us.
I flipped her onto her stomach and lifted her hips. She peered at me, her expression wry. “I should have guessed…”
“Guessed what?”
“Nothing.” She tossed her head, flinging that beautiful straw hair over her shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”
“Talk. Later. Good.”
Firelight danced on the moons of her bottom. Her womanhood glistened, desire scenting the air. I inhaled, filling my head and senses with her tantalizing essence. I guided my manhood to her entrance. The mere touch of wetness to my skin sent sharp excitement careening, but then an unexpected sudden doubt assailed me. My mate was so tiny. She’d been so tight around my finger.
I froze.
“Torg? What are you waiting for?” Starr lifted her hips higher and wiggled her bottom.
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Trust me.”
She believed what she said, but what if she was wrong? But when she wiggled again, hesitation caved. I grabbed her hips and thrust inside. Her womanhood hugged my cock, igniting a bliss so intense I saw stars. Saw my Starr. Currents of pleasure jolted every nerve ending.
Instinct took over my actions. Advance and retreat. A warrior’s dance, a lover’s entreaty. Sweat beaded on my forehead and stung my eyes. Muscles bunched. Rational thoughts did not exist anymore, save for one: pleasure my mate. I curled a hand over her hip to find her pleasure center. As I rocked, I stroked.
Starr moaned, and an answering growl rumbled up from my chest. We were meant for this, she and I. My yellow-haired petite alien mate. Together, we moved in perfect sync.
Around my cock, her channel pulsed, and sensations spiraled through my manhood. Pressure and tension built at the base.
“Oh gods, I’m going to come,” Starr gasped. “Oh fuck.”
I did not need the translator to understand her cries of rapture. Having brought bliss to my female, I surrendered to my own. Pleasure exploded within me, and my essence spewed forth.
My knees shook as did the rest of my body, and I feared I could collapse and crush her, but I couldn’t release her yet. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, I rolled to my side and tucked her into the curve of my body. Contentment and thankfulness filled me. For a moment, I couldn’t speak, I could only feel. Union consummated, nothing would ever separate us.