The Lion and the Mouse

by Emmy Chandler

He growls as he leans toward me, still working my clit like a fucking master, and I gasp when I feel his rough tongue lick the side of my neck, just beneath my ear. I groan, and I can feel my pussy grasping at air, for want of his cock. I’m so fucking close, and his tongue…

  His fucking cat tongue…

  What that thing could do, if he aimed it just a little lower…

  “Lohr. I’m going to come,” I moan as my hips begin to twitch, that blissful pressure building to an almost painful peak.

  His head pops up from my neck. “Really?” His hand goes still, and I groan. “You can orgasm like this? Without penetration?”

  “Every day of the week, and twice on Sundays. But not if you stop.”

  That soft growl rumbles up from his throat again, and his hand starts moving. He leans in and licks my neck again, and I throw my head back as I desperately chase pleasure toward a peak just out of reach. “More,” I moan. “Please, Lohr.”

  His growl swells, and his teeth sink almost gently into my earlobe, as his finger works my clit relentlessly. “Fuck!” I cry into the sky as the sudden sting in my ear pushes me over the edge. “Oh, god.” My hands clutch at him as my hips snap toward him, over and over, threatening to dislodge his hand from where it damn well belongs. The sounds that crawl from my throat as I ride out my orgasm, coming all over his hand, don’t sound human.

  When I finally come down from orgasmic high, his hand is still working me relentlessly, and I make a mad grab for it, to make it stop before overstimulation turns pleasure into pain. “Good!” I gasp, grasping at his fingers. “That’s good! Actually, that was amazing.” And suddenly I realize that the warmth enveloping my earlobe is his mouth. He’s sucking on the tiny wound he made.

  He releases my ear and rises to stare down at me. “You enjoyed yourself?”

  “All the way to completion,” I confirm. “Seriously, that was amazing. You’re… You’re something else.”

  “Other than what?”

  “I— Never mind. Just a colloquialism.” My hands are on his chest, and I can’t stop feeling of him. Dragging my fingertips through the short, golden fuzz as I trail my hand over his hard, rippled abs.

  He groans when I take his cock in my hand, and it feels even bigger than it looks. The damn thing is heavy. “You want to pleasure me with your hand? That’s what you meant by returning the favor?” He sounds a little doubtful. Yet the cock jerking in my grip—leaking onto my fingertips—is nothing but eager.

  “Do Fetoji women not do that?”

  “No, they have no reason to. But men sometimes take themselves in hand.”

  “Sometimes, huh? Because human men often do that on the daily.” As do human women. Some of us, anyway. Not that I’ve touched myself even once, since I’ve been sharing a bed with my huge alien roommate, for fear of finding myself once again pinned beneath him. Or against the tabletop. “And have you done that since I arrived?”

  “Every morning, as I bathe in the stream,” he confirms. “When I wake up next to you, I am too hard to stand it.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can do about that. Though a hand job isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” I smile up at him. Then I slowly lower myself onto my knees in the cold, shallow water.

  “What are you—”

  “Shhh. I promise you’ll like it.” I stroke his massive cock a couple of times, coming to terms with the fact that I’m not going to be able to take much of him in my mouth, but if he’s never had a blow job…

  I open my mouth and lick my lips. Then I lean toward him, my hands on his firm, velvety thighs, and just as my mouth closes over his thick head, he shoves me backward, then catches me before I can fall into the water. “What’s wrong?” I look up at him, as water splashes my shoulders, disturbed by the sudden movement.

  “You can’t…with your mouth.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that will hurt you.”

  “Okay, yes, you’re big.” Really big. Not that his ego needs stroking. “But it’s not like I was planning to—” My mouth snaps shut as the sound overhead catches my attention. I tilt my head back just as the shuttle comes into view. “Oh my god.”

  I grab his hand and pull myself to my feet in the cold water, then I race up the bank and out of the stream, running after the small ship. There won’t be any tours for another three and a half weeks, but during the maintenance period, maybe the staff still has things to do…?

  “Hey!” I shout, waving my arms. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, racing so fast that the world threatens to go dark around me, but I keep going. Running as fast as I can. “Hey, wait! Come back! I’m not supposed to be here!” But the shuttle keeps flying. “Please!” I shout, as it disappears over the treetops. “Please!”

  It’s gone. It’s fucking gone.

  A sob breaks free from my throat as I collapse onto the ground. The world blurs beneath my tears. Ground moss presses into my knees, then into my shins as I sink onto my heels. I was so close to going home.

  I wonder if anyone’s missing me yet…

  A warm hand lands on my shoulder, but I don’t look up. I can’t, yet. Not while I’m bawling. Humiliating myself.

  I feel Lohr move behind me. His shadow shifts over me on the ground. Then he lifts me into a cradle hold. Something wet presses against the side of my thigh, and I realize that he’s slung my clothing over his shoulder, even though I abandoned it—and him—in my desperation to escape this planet. His home.

  “I’m sorry,” I sob.

  He shushes me with a kiss pressed against my forehead, and for some reason, that only triggers more sobs. “I’m sorry they didn’t see you.”

  “I’m sorry about your blowjob!” I cry. “I could still…”

  “I’m not entirely sure what a blowjob is, but it can wait,” he assures me as he begins to walk. So I put my head against his chest, against the soft down, covering a hard plane of muscle, and I slide my arms around his neck. He carries me through the woods like that, and I don’t look up until I hear him nudge the door open with his foot.

  I lift my head as he carries me over the threshold, and I feel him stiffen, his arms tightening around me.

  A soft, inviting purr fills the room, and it takes me a second to realize it isn’t coming from him. That I can’t feel the vibration of it in my bones, like I usually do. I turn toward the source of the sound, and at first, I don’t understand what I’m seeing. What has upset Lohr so badly that his grip on me is starting to hurt.

  It’s a woman, with a tail. She’s bent over his table, as he once had me bent over it, with her tail held to the side. She’s wiggling her ass invitingly, her thighs spread wide, with her entire…self on display.

  And now I see what he means. Fetoji women are not built like human women. There isn’t much going on down there, except for a few holes. But that’s not the point.

  The outraged sound that bubbles up from my chest startles everyone in the room. Lohr’s grip on me slackens, then he sets me on my feet, and for the moment, I don’t give a damn that I’m naked, because who is this woman waving her ass at him?

  The woman stands, and as she turns, golden eyes wide, her skirt falls down to cover her ass and her upper thighs, though her tail moves freely through a high slit in the leather. “Lohr?” I can’t understand the rest of the growly, snarly words coming out of her mouth, because they’re in her language.

  “Evah,” he replies, his voice deep and…tight with tension.

  “You said you didn’t have a mate,” I snap, glaring up at Lohr.

  “I don’t,” he says in English. Then he begins talking to her, as he subtly situates himself between us. Her gaze lands on me, and she bares her teeth in a snarl that sends chills up my spine. She points at his bed and spits more angry words at Lohr, then she begins to advance on him. Clearly threatening him.

  Or threatening me.

  “Get rid of her,” I whisper fiercely, fully aware that I have no right to ask that of him. He is not mine. I am not going to s
tay on Ratera III, and he has a life here that pre-dates me and will presumably continue to exist long after I’m gone. So I have no right to ask him to choose me above this woman. Yet that’s exactly what I want. “Please. Lohr. Send her away.”

  Her aggressive focus snaps to me again, and that’s when I remember that she can speak English as well as he can. For the same reason. She snarls at me, an inarticulate and terrifying sound of hostility.

  Lohr tries to shove me behind him again, but it’s too late. There’s a fire burning in my belly, and I’m not sure I understand the source, but the result is as familiar as my own face in the mirror.

  I shove Lohr’s arm aside and push past him. “You need to go. He said you’re not his mate, so if you want to fuck his brains out after I’m gone, that’s between the two of you. I could not care less.” Lies. The thought makes me feel inexplicably nauseated. “But for tonight, you need to—”

  Evah lunges at me, and I squeal as I dart behind Lohr, even as he throws both arms out to shield me. She’s taller than she looks. And…broader. I didn’t realize how truly big and terrifying she is—not that she’s anywhere near his size—until she was suddenly lunging at me with her claws unsheathed, ready to rip my face right off my skull.

  She collides with his chest, and his hands wrap around her upper arms, holding her back as he snarls. She snaps at him, her teeth clacking together an inch from his throat, and for a moment, his hut is a storm of bared incisors, unsheathed claws, and snarled words I can’t understand. Then, suddenly he has her turned around and bent at the waist, his jaw clamped over the back of her neck.

  She goes still. Like, completely still, as if he’s just pressed her pause button. What he’s actually done is subdued her. Forced her into submission.

  Fuck, that’s hot.

  I feel moisture gather between my thighs again, and to my mortification, both Lohr and Evah turn to me, their nostrils flaring as they notice the scent. Evah begins to snarl, but the sound fades into a whimper when he growls and visibly tightens his hold on her neck.

  And finally, he lets her go, his left arm still out to push me back. To keep us separated. He barks a command at her, then he presses me back against the wall, clearing a path to the door.

  Evah stalks out of the hut, snarling softly at me as she goes.

  Lohr turns to me, his brows furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and I can see that he’s almost as displeased with me as he clearly is with her. “Don’t ever do that again,” he growls in a low-pitched voice.

  “Do what?” But I know damn well what he’s saying.

  “Don’t pick a fight with a Fetoji. Not a man or a woman.”

  “But she was—”

  “Syrie.” He’s snarling this time. “She could have ripped your head right off your body.”

  And now that the angry adrenaline rush is fading, I realize how right he is. I nearly died at the hands of Fetoji, once. What the hell was I thinking, provoking her like that?

  I don’t know what came over me.

  “Okay. You’re right,” I say, and Lohr looks surprised. No, he looks stunned. As if he were bracing for a knock-down-drag-out fight with me over this, complete with the snarling and snapping, and I’ve thrown him for the biggest loop in all of charted space. “I’m sorry,” I add, just to see if his jaw will drop.

  It does not. But he looks so suddenly pleased with himself that I want to laugh.

  “You’re not going to argue?” he looks suspicious, now. “You don’t want to lunge for my throat and—”

  “And require a grudge fuck to settle this argument? No. Because you’re right.”

  “Okay then. I’ll be right back.” He reaches up to grab something from the shelf above my head, and when he heads for the door, I grab his arm. “Wait, where are you going? She’s not still out there?”

  “Of course she is. I have to pay her.”

  “For the sex you didn’t have?” That fire is rekindling in my belly, and I do my best to tamp it down.

  “No. For the pots.” He points at a stack of clay pots I hadn’t noticed until this very moment. “Which she brought to trade for these hides.” He holds the roll of leather up for me to see.

  “So, the sex was just supposed to be a bonus?” I snap.

  “We will discuss this when I get back,” he announces as he heads for the door, and my gaze is drawn to my wet pile of freshly laundered clothing, as he nudges it out of his way with one foot. But there’s something—

  “What the hell is that?” I skitter back from the snake tangled up in my pajama pant leg.

  “Dinner.” Lohr points one finger at me, his claw unsheathed. “Stay.” Then he turns and stomps out the door, careful to close it behind him.

  Holy shit. Did he kill a snake in the stream? While I was bathing? Did he carry me, my clothes, and a dead snake as big around as my bicep all the way back here, without breaking a sweat? Was that not even noteworthy enough for him to mention?

  Before I can decide whether or not to pull the snake free from my clothes and examine it, I realize I can still hear Lohr and Evah talking. I listen for a moment, but they’re speaking in their native language, which puts me at a distinct disadvantage. As does my lack of claws and…fangs. I can’t tell what they’re saying, but I can tell they’re still arguing.

  He sleeps with her.

  Of course he sleeps with her. He’s a grown, single man, with needs, just like anyone else would have, and I suspect she’s considered very attractive, among the women of her species. And it’s not like I’m a virgin.

  Still, the idea of him touching her sends an unexpected bolt of pain through my chest. I can still feel the ghost of his arms around me, from being carried back to his hut. I can still feel his soapy hands on my body, his phantom finger sliding down to greet my clit with hesitance that blossomed into some seriously formidable erotic skill.

  I can’t stand the thought of him doing any of that to her. For her. I mean, he’s probably going to, once I’m gone. And I can’t really blame him, considering that he got me off in the middle of the damn stream—after killing a fucking snake—and I ran away without returning the favor, the second a shuttle appeared overhead. Considering that I’ve kissed him—that I’ve let him touch me—knowing how badly he wanted more. For four straight days.

  It’s not too late. I can still show him what he’s come to mean to me, even if all this is temporary. Even if I’m going to have to leave, soon.

  I press my ear to the crack in the door and listen for a second. It sounds like he’s calmed her down. Like she’s about to leave. And when I finally hear her footsteps marching away from the door, I scurry across the small hut, skirting the fire pit, and stare at the table top.

  Doggy style—or kitty style?—isn’t exactly my thing. I like to see a man’s face. But this is what turns him on. This is a signal he won’t worry about misinterpreting. If I do this, he will know exactly what I want.

  The door squeaks open, and footsteps whisper against the floor. I throw myself down on the table, my hands folded beneath my chin. My legs spread wide, my lady-parts fully exposed.

  The footsteps stop. A soft growl rolls across the room, and I exhale in relief when I recognize it as Lohr’s. I’d been half afraid that Evah would follow him back into the room and literally kill me.

  The door squeals softly shut, and I twist to look over my shoulder. He stands in front of the door, slowly stroking his cock with his right hand. His nose twitches as he catches my scent. His gentle growl deepens, and the sound raises every hair on my body. “Syrie…” My name seems to catch in his throat. “You don’t understand what you’re—”

  “I do understand, though. I want you. I thought this would make that clear. Am I doing it wrong?”

  He takes three steps forward, still stroking himself, his gaze caught on the gift I have spread out for him. “You’re doing it exactly right.”

  9

  Lohr

  Fuck me.

  I finally understand that phrase, in
its non-literal meaning. Syrie lies bent over the table, her luscious thighs spread. Her pink sex exposed, her beautiful little flesh petals open for me.

  Fuck.

  My pulse roars in my ears. I cross my hut in three steps, my cock in my hand, my heart in my throat. She’s beautiful. I want her. And after the fierce way my little mouse stood up to Evah, even though she’s nowhere near a Fetoji woman’s size…?

  I need her.

  My hands slide over her ass, squeezing. Feeling of her. I can’t wait anymore. But— “Are you sure?” I can hear her heart pound. She’s…nervous. But she’s also aroused.

  “I’m sure.” She thrusts back at me, wiggling her backside. Looking at me over her shoulder. I slide one hand over her hip, into the dip of her waist, then I unsheathe my claws and run them lightly over her skin, up toward her shoulder. She shudders as chills from the light touch wash over her.

  My other hand wanders down, between the firm curves of her backside, where I feel the moisture her body has produced in preparation for me. She’s dripping. I slide one finger into her, indulging a preliminary exploration. Sylvie groans and thrusts back at me, taking my finger deeper, and I retract my claw as tightly as I can, so that I can slide in and out of her.

  She’s small. This worries me.

  “Syrie.” I keep stroking my finger into her, and she thrusts back to meet me each time. “You said that human men are not quite so ‘generously gifted.’” I believe that’s the term she used. “Exactly how inferior are human cocks?”

  “I wouldn’t call them inferior, exactly. They’re just not quite so…thick. Or long. But that’s on average. We have both extremes, on the fringes, so you don’t need to worry. Human women stretch to accommodate. Don’t your women?”

  “Somewhat. But they don’t need to stretch quite as much as you will.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she said, even as her thighs tense against my hand. As her heartbeat pounds harder. “And if it isn’t, I’ll let you know. You’ll stop, right?”

  “Instantly,” I assure her. But the truth is that I’ve never stopped before, mid-mating. And my cock wants me to make no such promise.