by Ruby Dixon
A hot stream? Of course, the smell of rotten eggs is still in the air, but I have been so…distracted by my Zennek that I forgot everything but him. “You brought soap?”
“No, but I can gather berries. They grow close to the stream.”
Berries? I think for a moment this is another misunderstanding between us, but then I remember that his long, thick hair smells like fruit. “Very well. Lead the way.”
He takes my hand and leads me out of our canyon, and back out into the drifting snow and icy breeze. He does not talk as we walk, perhaps growing shy once more, but his hand on mine is tight and possessive as he leads me along. We trudge up a hill, and as we do, I notice that despite the heavy snow and desolate landscape, there is greenery all around. There are distant pale trees that sway like tall feathers, and it seems that near every rock, a weedy-looking plant grows next to it, sheltering from the wind. The cliffs are covered with snaky-looking vines and small bushes with curling, long needles, and there are rounded mounds in the snow. Zennek releases my hand and approaches one rounded mound, reaching in and shaking it, and revealing a deep green bush with spiky-looking leaves and curled edges. He brushes the leaves aside, and then makes an impatient sound. “Someone has gotten to this one already. Wait here.” He points at another distant cluster and heads toward it, presumably to look for more berries.
I watch him go, fascinated by the tight sway of his ass. It is the tightest, roundest male butt I have ever seen, and there is something so appealing about the sight of it. Là, but he is a gorgeous man. I watch as his tail flicks back and forth, practically teasing that wondrous muscular butt, and when he bends over to shake the next bush, it is too much for a female such as myself. Hands flexing, I creep up behind him along the top of the hill, skirting wide so he does not see me, determined to put my hands on such deliciousness.
I am paying more attention to Zennek’s fine ass than my own footing, though, and when one of my boots hits a shallow drift, there is no purchase. I stumble forward with a yelp, and then I am sliding down the side of the hill on my belly, then tumbling wildly in a sea of snow that cascades down with me. For a breathless moment, it feels as if I fall forever, and then I land at the bottom of the hill with a thump on my back, a splat of snow onto my face, and I stare up at the sky, dizzy.
The air is gone from my lungs, and for a moment, I think I am dead.
Dead, because I wanted to grab a fine blue ass and squeeze it.
I would laugh, except I can’t breathe. A sound gurgles out of me, gasping, and I try to draw air back into my lungs even as I wipe snow from my face. I swipe it from my lashes and manage to laugh, then suck in a gasping breath. Dizzy, I focus on the clouds overhead. One fluffy one looks like a heart emerging from a puff of cloud.
I smile to myself.
A moment later, a wild groan erupts nearby, and then I am hauled out of the snow and clutched against a big blue chest. A frantic hand touches my face, sliding down my arms and legs, checking me over. He brushes over my side and I squirm, ticklish.
I giggle. “Is it playtime already, mon beau? I am ready.” I reach up to touch his chest.
He growls and bats my hand away. “Where are you hurt? Is there pain?”
“I am just clumsy,” I chide him, amused.
“I told you to stay put,” Zennek says, his tone furious. “Not every step in the snow is safe. You have to be careful for hidden dangers masked by the snowfall.”
“I have learned that the hard way, non?” I chuckle, wiggling my foot as he runs a hand down my boot. “But perhaps you should undress me and check me over anyhow.” I’m getting turned on by all this touching, all this care. He clutches me against his chest as if I am the most precious thing in all the world and I adore it. I adore him…and I’m very aroused. His protectiveness brings out the fierce tigress in me.
Perhaps it is time I show my big blue lover what a blowjob feels like.
But Zennek frowns down at me, and when I try to touch his chest, he stops me, capturing my gloved hand. “Why are you laughing? This is not funny. Do you wish to die? Is that why you have no fear like the others?”
I laugh at his ridiculous words. Wish to die? Me? But my laughter dies in my throat when I see he is serious, his eyes full of worry and frustration. “It is not that I am afraid to die, Zennek. It is that I know I am safe.” I point up at the cloud. “Do you see that?”
He looks up and then frowns back down at me. “A cloud?”
“Oui, but in the shape of a heart. That is how I know I am safe.” I pat his chest and then reach up to cup his cheek. “I told you my mother had passed away before I came here, yes? She had cancer, a sickness that ate at her from the inside, and there was nothing the docteurs could do.”
“Docteurs…” He tests the word on his mouth. “Healers?”
“Healers,” I agree. Thinking of Maman and her last days always makes me feel slightly melancholy. “All my life it was just the two of us, and I was so sad that she was leaving me, but I was also terrified to be alone. Maman knew this. I would have no one when she passed. On her last night, I cried and cried and held her hand tightly, and she shook her head at me. ‘Marlene, do not be afraid. I will always be with you. I will be at your side, always.’” Marlène, n’ai pas peur. Je vais toujours être avec toi. Je vais être à tes côtés, toujours. My breath catches in my throat with grief. “And then she was gone. The next day…I started to see the hearts. It was a joke between her and me, you see, that whenever we would part, hugs made her too sad. So we would make a heart with our hands.” I lift both hands and put my fingers and thumbs together, making a heart shape as I hold them up. “It was a special thing just between us. I knew that when I saw a heart, she was at my side. I have seen them everywhere since she passed.” I gesture up at the cloud, which looks even more like a heart now than it did moments ago. “And I know she is taking care of me. She is watching out for me and keeping me safe.”
Zennek is quiet. He studies me for a long moment, and then nods.
His silence is distressing. I wanted him to understand, to realize why I feel so safe here even in this strange world, surrounded by aliens. “You think I am crazy, non? That I imagine things.” For some reason, I am terribly disappointed.
But he shakes his head at me. “The spirit of your mother watches over you. I understand this. And it helps me understand why you do not scream and cry like the other females.”
“I do not cry much,” I admit to him. “Mais non, I am not afraid. I see many signs that this is exactly where I am supposed to be.”
He touches my chin, then rubs one big, callused thumb over my lower lip. “Not exactly. Tell your Maman that I do not want you tumbling down any more hills. You are safest at my side, not at my feet.”
I chuckle, relieved. “Understood. I will listen when you tell me to remain in one place next time and not be lured by your attractive body.”
Zennek’s brow flushes. “Hold onto me and we will go back to the stream and bathe.”
I put my arms around my big alien’s neck, holding on as he strides up the snowy hill with ease. I expect him to set me down when we return to the bushes, but he only snaps off a heavily berried branch, hands it to me, and then continues back down. We return to the small cleft in the hills, where the waters have worn the rocks down, and the smell of rotten eggs becomes almost overwhelming.
“Do you smell that?” he tells me. “That is a sign that the water is hot, but there is still danger here. You must always be careful when approaching a stream, because if the water is warm and appealing to us, it will also attract predators.” Zennek sets me gently on my feet and then points at the banks. “Look for footprints and mud, signs that this is visited by animals.”
I want to tell him that I have no plans on going out alone, but I nod. It’s important for me to learn about this place if I am to live here with him. “Look for tracks. Got it.”
“Do you see the reeds in the water?” When I nod, he touches my leather-covered arm,
indicating I should stay in place, and approaches one. He leans in, grabs one reed, and then pulls it out of the water. On the far end is a creature—a fish?—that is more teeth than scales. It writhes and shudders, snapping its jaws as if trying to attack Zennek.
I gape, shocked.
“This is fang-fish. We sometimes call them face-eaters. They hide at the edges of the waters, waiting to latch on to creatures that drink. If you see the reeds, the waters are not safe. They will just as easily eat your face as that of a dvisti.”
“What do we do?” I ask, watching as he puts the fish-thing back into the water. The reeds shudder with ripples, rearranging themselves as if to make room for the returning fish.
Zennek strides to my side, all masculine beauty, and I must be feeling resonance yet, because the sight of him makes me breathless. I want to grab him and lick him until his cock is wet with seed and then lick him all over again just because he is mine. I watch him with hot eyes as he takes the branch from me and plucks about half of the berries off of it.
“These are soapberries,” he tells me, and crushes them in his hand. “They are good for cleaning, and good for chasing away the fang-fish. Watch.” He returns to the water’s edge and I force myself to stop paying attention to his fine ass and focus on what he’s doing. He drips the berry juice into the water, and as I watch, the reeds immediately shiver and head upstream, trying to get away from the juice. He watches them, waiting for them all to leave, and then lowers his hand into the water and shakes it, cleaning it off. When that is done, he gets to his feet and looks back at me. “It is safe now. They will not return to this part of the stream until the suns are low in the sky. That is how you make it safe for bathing.”
“Bon,” I tell him, reaching for the collar of my leathers. “So it is safe to strip down now, then?”
Zennek nods, and immediately takes his loincloth off. The breath escapes my throat as I watch his male perfection. I love the sight of his heavy, nearly erect cock swaying against his thigh, thick with those pleasurable ridges that tore me apart in all the best ways. He has not noticed me staring, and squats by the bank, his tail flicking as he studies the water.
I strip off one layer, and then another as I approach him. It takes far too long for me to undress, but finally my bare skin prickles as the cold air hits. My nipples harden and goosebumps move up my arms, but I don’t get in first. I wait, watching him.
When Zennek gets to his feet, he heads into the water up to his thighs, and then holds a hand out to me. I notice that his cock goes fully erect when he gazes at me, his eyes dropping to my pussy as if he remembers how he woke me up.
I certainly remember.
I ease into the water, somewhat nervous, but Zennek’s hand is in mine and I know he would not let me get hurt. The water itself feels like a hot tub without bubbles, so warm that my skin gets pink in response. “Oooh, c’est bon.” This is amazing, and I immediately sink deeper, determined to immerse all of my body. At this level, I am eye-height with his erection, and new, delicious ideas form in my head.
He drops to his knees, hiding his glorious cock from my hungry view, and I can see a blush at the base of his horns again. So shy, my sweet Zennek. I chuckle and move to put my arms around his neck, sliding my wet body against his. “Show me how to use the soapberries then, my handsome mate?”
With a nod, Zennek strips a few more of them off the branch and then holds them out to me. “Crush them in your hand to make a pulp. It is good for the skin and mane.”
I do, and lift my hand to my nose, sniffing. It smells like no soap I have ever used before. Back home I was a fan of perfumed body wash and shampoo, of course, but this is more like jelly than soap. “Does it taste good?”
A hint of a smile quirks his mouth. “No, it tastes very, very bad. You will vomit all day if you eat one.”
Ew. “We will avoid that, then.” Instead of cleansing myself, I press my palm to his chest and begin to spread it across his delicious blue muscles.
“I got the soapberries for you, my mate.” There’s an edge in his tone that tells me he is growing shy again. Now that daylight has come, it seems my Zennek forgets what a ferocious animal he was last night as he claimed me—and how much I loved it.
“I know,” I tell him. “And I am using my soap. Now let me wash you.” When he hesitates again, I continue, “It will give me great pleasure.”
That decides him. He relaxes, a small sigh on his lips as I soap him up.
I’m not the most dedicated bath attendant. I soap his broad chest but I get too distracted by the lines of his muscles, the play of water across his velvet skin. I trace lines down his belly and then go to caress his cock under the water.
Zennek jumps at my touch, making a strangled sound. “This…is not bathing.”
“Of course. How clumsy of me.” I cluck at him, secretly enjoying the teasing. I soap my hands with fresh berries and then instruct him to wet his hair so I can wash it, making sure to dig my fingers against his scalp as I massage and cleanse. I keep my touches chaste, but he makes low groans under his breath and through the crystalline water, I can see the hard length of his cock jutting before him. He likes my touch, even if he will not allow himself to enjoy it just yet.
That’s fine. It just gives me more time to tease.
As he rinses his hair in the water, I get more berries, crush them, and then begin to soap myself up. Wet hair first, which means I put both arms up and work my hair into a fruity, light lather. As I wash, I make sure that my breasts are high out of the water and pushing toward his face as I talk about small, chatty things. The bird singing nearby, the crisp wind, the sewing that I did earlier, the other survivors. Zennek tries to pay attention, but it is clear my bare, bouncy breasts—which I make sure to jiggle regularly—are distracting him.
I rinse, bending backward and making sure my breasts stay afloat. Then it is time to soap myself up, and I take a long, long time caressing my skin, moving over my belly and over my tits. I smooth soapy hands down my arms and make every gesture as erotic as I can. I pretend not to notice that he is breathing hard, my mate, or that he devours me with his eyes. Instead, I raise one foot delicately and place it on his shoulder that hovers just outside of the water. “May I use you to support me while I finish washing?” I even flutter my lashes to make my words seem innocent.
“Of course.”
I anchor my foot against him and then stand up. My hips are now out of the water and he is seated in it, so I rise over him, my thighs spread. And I take more berries, crush them, and then wash my slippery, needy pussy, stroking fingers through my folds and teasing them as I do. He watches me with greedy eyes, and when I wobble, he puts a big hand on my hip to steady me. I thank him and pretend as if this is all normal and I’m not insane with need, then rinse myself.
“Oh no,” I breathe, sliding a clean hand down my belly. “I think I missed a spot. Will you check for me?” I keep my expression innocent as I poke him with my toe.
Zennek growls, dragging me forward. “You are a tease, my mate.”
“The worst of teases,” I agree, my hands going to the arching horns on his brow. “Will you punish me?”
“Never.” He presses a kiss to my belly, tender as ever. “Because that would be punishing myself.”
I suck in a breath as his tongue grazes my navel and then moves higher. “Now who is the tease?”
He lifts his gaze to mine and gives me a hot stare that tells me exactly what he is thinking. “Are you sore?”
Oh, I am sore all right. I am sore because we both used each other so hard that I will have the most delightful bruises up and down my sensitive parts, but I do not care because it was so magnificent. He is magnificent. “I do ache,” I tell him in a teasing voice. “Shall I show you where?”
“I can guess,” he murmurs, dragging me lower into the water. I slide my legs down until I’m straddling his hips, and rock against the hard length of his cock. “You are a very obvious female.”
�
��Merci.”
That makes him stiffen and the desire leaves his gaze, followed by consternation. “Mercy? What is wrong?”
I frown at him, and then realize why he is confused. “That is not English, mon amour. French. Merci is thank you in my language.”
He relaxes, his shoulders sagging. “I thought I had misunderstood you. That I was pressing you for too much.”
Aw. My sweet alien. “I am a difficult female to misunderstand, my sweet.” I keep my words English because I hate to see the worry in his gaze. “And you have not pressed me for too much at all. Am I not the one sliding her hands all over your large, wondrous body so you will drag me into your arms and ravish me?”
Zennek’s eyes flare with heat again. “Is that what you are doing?” I nod, and he drags my hips down against him, settling the head of his cock at my slippery core. “Is this what my mate wants?”
I grind down against him, pushing at the head that teases me so deliciously. “Yes,” I tell him, breathless. “That is exactly what I want.”
His arm locks around my hips and he thrusts up into me, the movement hard and rough and forceful and delicious. I gasp, clinging to him, and his mouth finds mine. He claims me hard there, too, his tongue plunging into my mouth with a fierce claim even as he thrusts into me again, and my toes curl. I’m moaning and gasping against him as he jerks my hips down, pounding me onto his length. Last night he was tender and sweet but enthusiastic, but this is…rough, and I love it. I love all of it.
“Zennek,” I moan as he drives into me, relentless. That teasing spur drags against my clit over and over, and I writhe against him, rolling my hips to try to get away from it because it is too much too fast, and I’m going to explode far too quickly if he doesn’t stop. My moans become pants, my sounds turn to mindless mews of pleasure because he pins me against him and keeps pounding into me, over and over.
