“There is a creek.”
“Okay,” I say, before thinking more on it.
“Tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I will bathe you, and you will take my spill tonight.”
The hunger returns to his face as he licks the rest of the blood off his lips. I watch as this large, serpentine male grabs his cock, squeezes the bulge in the middle, and pushes it back into the scales at his pelvic region. I blow out air in relief.
It doesn’t last long.
My pulse, which was beginning to slow, thrums back to life. “Isn’t it night right now?”
“Yes, female, it is.”
Great. Just great.
I turn around and dress, feeling the burn of his black eyes fucking me, unable to get the image of his tail penetrating me out of my head. I’ve gained a couple of hours with my lame excuse… How am I going to survive another night? I can’t sleep or pretend to sleep forever.
“And then I get to see the tech?” I say, far too absently for my liking. I press my palms to my eyes.
“Yesss.”
At least I’m getting out of this hole. I can run again if I must.
He’ll bring his spear...
“Okay,” I breathe, scurrying to the bunker’s exit when I finish putting on my boots.
His arm wraps around me and pulls me close, lifting me off the ground. I shriek, being pressed flush against his hard form.
He’s never going to give me the chance to run.
Thirteen
A Bath
Vruksha
My mate confounds me and is destroying everything I thought I knew about females—human females. The screens left much out.
The taste of her arousal is in my mouth and her warm, wet sheath wrapped around the tip of my member allows me to forgive the lies of the technology I’ve lived my life by. Perhaps every female is different, and that is why the screens didn’t tell me the difficulties of getting one to submit.
The tension within me is growing worse by the day, but I won’t let it rule me. I can’t. Gemma is easily hurt.
I can wait a little longer.
“Let me down, Vruksha,” she grumbles.
“The sun is setting. It is easier to carry you than allow you to stumble through the overgrowth now that it’s getting dark.”
“I can see well enough.”
“We are almost there.”
She startles. “Already? The creek is that close?”
I peer at her. Why does she sound surprised? She must be eager. I know she wants me. She let me touch her, let me explore her sex, even let my tongue taste it. Is she not ready for more?
Her sex had been tight, incredibly so. It worries me, and I can’t let that show. She needs a master, a male to nest her, care for her. If I am too big for her, how will she forgive me?
I do not want her to hurt, for her to feel pain with our union. It’s not going to be easy to sink inside her, but I will make it work. Three fingers may not be enough. Four, or all of them perhaps?
My tailtip will do the trick. If she can take my tail, she can take my member. But first, she needs a bath, or so she says. And the water will be a great way to make her extra slick for passage…
I scan my surroundings, listening to the quiet rustle of leaves in the evening’s breeze. The creek is not in the airfield, but it’s nearby and a place I have gone to daily since I first established my den.
But it’s the only creek near here, which means roaming predators use it as well.
Including Zhallaix.
He will steal Gemma if he sees her, or worse. I am certain the only naga who knows I have a female is Azsote, and I want to keep it that way. I can handle Zhallaix—because of his proximity to my den, I know him better than any other naga—but it will be deadly if the others find out.
I will risk it though, to make Gemma happy. She will get her bath.
My mouth waters at the thought of seeing her wet.
I have been dreaming of her for so long. For years and years, before I even saw Gemma, I’ve been dreaming of her and the life we will have. The loneliness she will make disappear.
I will feed her from my hands, gift her items I have foraged, and provide her every comfort. She enjoyed the bear pelt, and there are many more where that came from. I will introduce her to my nest when we return.
If she likes one bear pelt, she will like my nest. She will like all I have to give.
Tonight, she will be naked in my nest.
I don’t know why I’ve become like this. A male obsessed. For years after my father died, I reveled in the fact that there were no females anymore. I celebrated that they were all gone and I would never have to come in contact with one, nor suffer one. I saw what my mother’s death did to my father. It destroyed him. He explained to me when I was old enough that the male he was afterward was not the male he had been when she was alive.
He suffered guilt when he looked at me, but he still kept me close, teaching me of the dangers of this world. Of how unfortunate we are as a species, of how lonely it was because we are so few.
He gave me my spear, taught me how to use it, taught me how to find, repair, and take advantage of the technology across the land. He told me to stay away from the very facility the humans recently took over.
He said there were things in that building that weren’t right. Things that could hurt us. He said that’s where he found my spear. It was the last gift my father gave me.
It was the only tangible gift he ever gave me. And now, all I have are memories. Not even the orbs can show me his face...
The noise of rushing water pricks my ears. Gemma
