Mari's Mistake: A SciFi Alien Romance (Icehome Book 11)

by Ruby Dixon

  “Yup,” I whisper. I’m really wet, and when he glides his fingers up and down my sex, he drags that slickness with him. I moan and rock against his hand. I need to show him my clit, to introduce him to my most sensitive spot, but then he’s pushing one thick finger inside me, his intense gaze on my face, and I gasp, clinging to his shoulders.

  That should not feel as good as it does, madre de dios.

  He breathes my name again, the sound husky and sensual on his lips even as he thrusts into me with his finger. I whimper, my body making a wet sound as he works me with his hand, his gaze locked on my face. This is the hottest, sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced—

  My khui shivers, shaking my entire body.

  Or at least, it feels like it does. But then T’chai looks up at the ceiling and I realize the dried leaves that cover the hut’s roof are rustling too. It’s not just me that’s shaking.

  It’s everything.

  I roll off of him quickly, moving to the side and crouching as I stare at my surroundings. T’chai reaches for me again, but I push his hand away, worried.

  The tremor dies away almost as quickly as it began, and then all is still once more.

  “M’rsl?” T’chai strokes his hand on my arm, a silent invitation in his gaze.

  I shake my head, getting to my feet. With a sigh, he follows me as I peek out of the hut into the night. Everything looks quiet and calm, but I don’t like this.

  This place doesn’t feel safe.

  I have to get out of here. As I glance over at T’chai, who doesn’t look all that concerned, I realize that these earthquakes must be normal for him. In his eyes, they’re no big deal. And that’s…kinda fucked up.

  We both have to get out of here, I amend. We need to find Lauren and escape this island, all of us. Where we can go, I have no idea. I’m determined to take this one crisis at a time.

  5

  T’CHAI

  My mate sleeps beside me, restless and worried throughout the night. The earthshake filled her with unease, and after that, she did not want to be touched. I suspect she has lived through the same type of tragedy that Tall Horn has. Did she lose her tribe in a similar shake? Is that why she panicked? I want to tell her that it is nothing, that our island shivers and shakes all the time, but I do not have the words for her.

  I stroke her mane as she sleeps and watch over her instead.

  I am greedy, though. Even as I watch her dream, I want to touch her again. My khui hums in my chest, full of need. It wants me to claim my mate now-now-now, but M’rsl needs more time. I will not push her past what she is ready to give. My body aches with her nearness, and I want to sleep beside her, but I do not trust myself. My cock demands to burrow into her warmth, and I settle for licking my fingers, as if I can still taste her juices.

  I did not understand what she was asking for until she showed me. That she must be wet and slippery to take my length inside her. Of course it makes sense, and now I am fascinated with the thought of making her cunt grow wet once more. Perhaps if a female had survived Tall Horn’s destruction, I would know more about mating practices. I would know how to get her cunt slick and ready, but she had to show me. M’rsl knew, though.

  It is not her first time to mate, then.

  The thought does not bother me. It is clear she has no mate, or she would not have resonated to me. If anything, I am relieved. She can teach me all that she knows, and I can make her cunt so wet that she comes running to my arms when I touch her.

  I like that thought. A lot. I lick my fingers again, trying to remember her taste, but it is gone. I glance over at her, wondering if I can wake her with more mouth on mouth, more touches between her thighs, or if she is still upset over the earthshake. Awaken, I encourage silently. Look at me and let me touch you, M’rsl. I am ready to be your mate. Let me pleasure you. I will put my hands and tongue anywhere that pleases you.

  That idea will not leave my head the moment it enters, and I think of all the different ways I can lick my mate’s body. Her teats—the tips of which I learned were sensitive. Her soft stomach. Her equally soft thighs. Her cunt. My mouth waters at the realization that I can put my lips there and tongue her directly, and I groan with need.

  Now I really want that.

  At my side, M’rsl shifts, her teats swaying as she rolls onto her back, her eyes closed. My gaze locks onto those rounded swells, so very different from the females I remember. The tips are dark and inviting, and I wonder what they would feel like on my mouth—

  The earth shakes again, violently this time.

  M’rsl awakens with a scream, her eyes wide, as the ground shivers and bucks underneath her.

  “I have you,” I call out, snagging her and pulling her body against mine. “I will not let you come to harm.”

  She clings to me, terrified, as the world rattles around us. I stroke her mane and hold her tight, whispering words of comfort that I wish I believed. All the while, I wait for the shaking to end…and I wonder if it ever will.

  What if I have acquired my mate just to lose her? The death of the Great Smoking Mountain cost me my family last time…but a mountain cannot die twice, can it?

  I do not want to find out. I do not want to lose M’rsl or my clansmates.

  Please stop, I implore it. If the ancestors are listening, if the spirits are aware—make it stop.

  There’s a low, dreadful rumble…and then things subside. The world returns to silence, no sound but the angry cries of nightflyers in the jungle awoken from their sleep. I let out a sigh of relief.

  “T’chai!” My mate says my name in that curious way of hers, and there is alarm on her face as she gestures around us. “Snotsafe! Wehaftageddouda hir!”

  “I think it is done for now,” I reassure her, wishing I understood the sounds she slings in my direction. “We will go fishing and see if our angry island has washed up food for us to eat, yes?” I pat her back and give her an encouraging smile.

  “Urnotlistnin!” She grabs my face in her hands and forces me to look her in the eyes. “Sa vawlkaynoh!” She babbles on a long stream of words, gesticulating at our surroundings and I watch her, silent, trying to grasp what she is telling me. She is upset about the earthshake. That much is obvious. But everything else is lost, and after a moment, she lets out a sigh of frustration. She grabs my hand and gets to her feet, tugging me toward the entrance to the hut.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask her. “I can fish for you.” I wish desperately that I understood her. I never thought that I would not be able to somehow understand my mate. How can she not speak the same words as me? It makes no sense.

  M’rsl leads me out of the hut and I am not entirely surprised to see that M’tok, S’bren and R’jaal are nearby, talking quietly. They look over as we emerge.

  “Is it a good morning?” S’bren asks cheerfully. “Is the clan larger by one now that resonance has been fulfilled?”

  R’jaal clears his throat, trying not to laugh. M’tok just rolls his eyes.

  I say nothing, because they do not need to know that M’rsl was willing and wet—so wet—between her thighs but the earthshake panicked her. Her wetness was for me alone. Even now, I do not like that they watch the bobbing of her teats as she drags me toward them, or the way R’jaal’s gaze lingers on the curls between her thighs.

  Those are mine. She is mine. He should not be looking.

  I fight back the urge to snarl at my clansmates, because that is R’jaal, who lost M’rsl to me. That is S’bren, who does not have a cruel bone in his body. And M’tok, who is not always pleasant but will not hesitate to share his food when I have returned empty-handed from fishing. They are my family. All we have is each other.

  And yet…they should not be looking at M’rsl so hard.

  My mate approaches them and babbles more of her frantic words, her hands waving as she motions to our surroundings. They look at her, frowning, and then look at me.

  “Her words make no sense. Are we sure they are not just sounds?” M’to
k gestures at his head. “Did she hit it while in the water?”

  “I do not know.” I tug M’rsl back toward me and touch her hair, looking for wounds I might have missed.

  She bats my hands away with a sigh and just rubs her face as if tired. “Fckinfrgetit.”

  “Are you hungry?” I ask her, trying to pull her close to me. She looks so frustrated and sad that I want to make it better for her. Food is the simplest answer—I know my day is always better when my belly is full.

  M’rsl looks over at me, then gestures at the trees.

  Ah yes. I had promised to take her to the beach where R’jaal found her. I nod, pleased with the smile she beams in my direction. I smile back, and…my cock responds. “We are, ah, going hunting.”

  My clansmates make sounds of disgust—or envy. S’bren holds out his spear. “Here. Take mine, not that you will use it.”

  “Hunting. I will believe that when you return with fresh meat,” M’tok grumbles.

  R’jaal just gives us a nod, his expression unusually somber. Normally he is teasing and full of energy and determination, but on this day, he just seems…tired. “Be watchful. The island is angry this day.”

  “Perhaps it is angry because T’chai keeps waving that thing around,” M’tok says with a smirk, gesturing at me.

  “T’chai?” M’rsl repeats. “T’chai M’rsl?”

  S’bren snickers, and I find I am more than ready to have a few moments alone with my mate.

  M’rsl is quiet as we cut through the jungle. As we left our home beach, I grabbed a net drying on one of the rocks and slung it around my hips for carrying. It rustles and makes noise as we walk, but my mate is not a quiet huntress, so I figure a bit more noise does not matter. I keep my spear at the ready and watch the trees, but the jungle is peaceful. There are no hungry kaari roaming, no great-beaked pouncers flinging themselves down upon us. I stick to the edge of the trees, just because I do not want to see J’shel of Strong Arm, or N’dek…and then I remember N’dek is wounded, his leg gone. It is a death sentence, and I feel badly for him. For all that we are in different clans, he is a fine hunter.

  Was a fine hunter.

  My thoughts are grim as I escort my mate across the edge of the jungle, toward the other beach. “Once upon a time there were long stretches of beach,” I tell her as we walk, because it is far too quiet. “Enough for all clans to hunt and never worry about encroaching upon another’s territory. But the Great Smoking Mountain died and took much of the land away with it. Now there is not much left.”

  We emerge from the greenery onto the sands, and M’rsl rushes forward and releases my hand. She runs toward the water, even though the beach is empty. “Loooorrrnn,” she calls, cupping her hands to her face. “Yaaaaryoooheeer?”

  I follow behind her, curious. In the distance, I see the black “egg” that R’jaal found with M’rsl in it, and I head toward it. As I do, I cannot help but notice that the sands are churned with footprints. The tide should have washed them away, so that means someone else has visited this beach this morning.

  K’thar, perhaps? Is his female looking for mine? A possessive jolt rocks through me and I surge to my feet, heading for M’rsl. “Stay close,” I tell her. “Do not stray.”

  “Djoosee Looorn?” she asks hopefully. “Ennebuddee?”

  “Let us go look at your egg and then we will see if the fish are biting here,” I say to her. I hold my hand out and wait. She looks around the beach and then reluctantly takes my hand. For some reason…that stings. I do not like that I am her second choice.

  Am I not her mate? Her resonance?

  Is she unhappy we have resonated? The thought makes my guts go cold.

  6

  MARI

  True to his word, T’chai takes me to the other beach, but there’s no sign of Lauren. He seems to be in a bad mood now that we’re here, this new “mate” of mine. He’s grumpy and watches me so closely, as if expecting me to bolt away from him. I want to ask where he expects me to go, but of course I can’t. We’ve barely gotten past sharing names.

  This is so damn frustrating.

  The pod on the beach is empty; there’s no sign of Lauren there, either. I put my hand to my eyes and gaze out on the distant waters, but I don’t see anything else in the distance, no snow-capped mountains or white valleys. There’s nothing but bottle-green ocean as far as the eye can see, and when I touch the waters here, they’re warm and crystalline and completely unlike the other frozen beach.

  With a frustrated sigh, I thump down on the sands and hug my legs.

  I don’t know what I expected to find here.

  “M’rsl?” T’chai kneels next to me, and then reaches out and strokes my hair. He senses my sadness, and it’s clear that it bothers him.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him with a faint smile. “I just need to get my head on straight. I’m here, right? I might as well do my best to figure out how to survive here. If Lauren’s out there, I hope she’s safe.” I gesture at the jungle. “Unless you want to take me to go look in there?”

  T’chai shakes his head and makes a few gestures that indicate that the jungle is full of bitey things. I nod understanding. Right. Dangerous and full of critters. I get it.

  He touches my stomach, and that small brush of his fingers sends heat coiling through my body again. Our eyes meet and he gives me a small, apologetic smile as if to say yeah, I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.

  And then he rubs my belly and makes the gesture for food.

  “Am I hungry? Yeah, I guess I could eat.” I blush. Of course he’s talking about food. Here I am, thinking about how I bounced on his fingers last night and tried to show him how to get me wet, and he’s thinking about food. Gotta love this language barrier.

  My khui starts up as he smiles at me, and I can feel my face grow hot with arousal. We haven’t solved this resonance thing between us yet, and I’m acutely aware of his nakedness and his strength. The scent of him washes over me, utterly appealing, and his long hair drifts against my skin in the breeze. I’m struck with the need to grab him and just kiss the hell out of him—

  Then I wonder why I don’t.

  Is it because I worry people might think I’m being easy? That I’m moving too fast? Except with his people, I’m expected to move fast. They see nothing wrong with us jumping each other’s bones the moment resonance happens. As for the rest of my friends…they might be dead.

  Who’s to know, other than me?

  As my mother would say, el que espera, despera. He who waits, despairs.

  I slide my arms around his neck. “No more waiting,” I whisper, and press my lips to his.

  That’s all it takes for T’chai to eagerly respond. With a groan, he tangles his fingers in my hair and his mouth is on mine, hot and intense. He bears me down to the sand, his lips constantly on mine, his tongue hungry and eager for more, and I pant with excitement. Oh yes. Oh, yes.

  My stomach growls.

  T’chai stops. Oh, no.

  He lifts his head and looks down at me. Grins. Says something in that weird language of theirs, and then presses a small kiss to the tip of my nose that I find utterly charming. He gets off me—oh so reluctantly—and pulls the net off his hips, then heads into the water, scooping up his spear again.

  What he’s thinking is as clear as day—he needs to provide for his woman. It’s a theme I’ve seen with the other alien inhabitants of this planet and I’m not entirely surprised to see it here. Maybe that’s why I feel so safe with him—he’s so protective and caring. I’ve felt so unsafe and alone ever since I woke up on this world, and knowing that someone else is looking out for me fills me with such relief. It makes me feel seen…and I didn’t realize how much I needed that.

  So I boldly watch as T’chai heads into the water, lusting after the dimples at the base of his spine. I sigh with appreciation as he shifts colors, matching the shade of the water, and holds his spear, watching and waiting.

  If I ignore the fact that this entire isla
nd is possibly one gigantic volcano, I’ve been pretty lucky. I’m not an alien slave. I’m alive. And if I have to resonate, at least it’s to a guy that’s so freaking hot it makes my mouth water just to look at him. I wish we could converse—I’d love to have a real talk with him—but I’ll take what I can get for now.

  T’chai wades out deeper, until he’s nothing but a pair of shoulders in the hard-hitting waves, and I have to squint to make out his outline. After a short time, he dives under the water, and the surface waters splash wildly for a moment before he bounds up for air, a triumphant look on his face.

  The thing he’s caught is huge, too—it’s easily the size of one of his arms in length and twice as fat. It looks like a gigantic eel except for the tiny pairs of flipper-like feet that run along the underside of the pale belly and the row of spines across the back. T’chai talks excitedly as he moves onto the sand next to me, dripping seawater. He’s clearly thrilled that he’s made this kill, and his enthusiasm bleeds over to me.

  “You kicked ass,” I agree, beaming at him.

  He grins at me, all sheer delight, as he expertly plucks the spines off the back of the thing. He’s talking non-stop, the harsh-sounding syllables flowing from his lips in excitement as he then guts the fish and tosses the innards aside, and I realize we’re going to eat this right here and now. I try not to be grossed out by it, considering that food is scarce and there’s enough to feed everyone on this fat sausage of an eel. He cuts a thick slab of pink flesh from the insides, and I can hear T’chai’s stomach growl furiously even as he hands it over to me.

  My heart melts. He’s starving and doing all the work, and still thinks only of me. I give him a bright smile in response, determined to act as if this fish tastes better than anything I’ve ever had before, just out of politeness. He worked hard to get it, and I’m not going to pooh-pooh any food. I take the fish from his hands and bravely take a bite before I can think too hard about what I’m putting in my mouth.