R’Hiza take me. It’s bad enough that I can’t escape her sight or scent. Now I have to touch her, too? I hope she can’t see my cock leaping at the promise. I’ll have to cut it off at this rate. Maybe that would be worthwhile, as it will never be satisfied now that it knows she exists.
I shut my nares and breathe through my gills. Normally for filtering dust in the grasslands of my ancestors, the method is inefficient and labored but gives me the smallest relief from her smell as I step closer. Gingerly, I slide a finger under the edge of the headscarf, seeking the end. She shivers at the brush of my claw across her forehead.
Good. She should be scared. I hope she’ll run as far away from me as possible, as soon as possible, because I will only bring her disappointment and danger.
The end of the scarf located, it only takes a few swift turns of my wrist before the fabric falls away, revealing the sheen of bare skin. I forget my gills and suck in a full breath of her. It makes me lightheaded and weak-kneed. Me,weak.
“You do not have head fur.” Alioth save me, I’m as dumb as my cock. I’m just surprised because I haven’t seen her without a headscarf before.
She lifts her chin defensively. “I have hair. I shaved it just like you shaved yours.”
“Why?” I blurt out. She is not an Irran warrior, keeping the old ways.
“I like it like this.” Her eyes narrow and glitter, daring me to say more. I’d be stupid to offer an opinion. Stupid to tell her how it arouses me, makes me want to face her in the fighting pits, conquer her. Take my prize with my teeth instead of my sword when she bends her neck to me.
Stupid because my Alara will never bend her neck to anyone. From what I know of her, I don’t think she could. I shove the hat over that tempting, delicate skin and grunt, “Should have left it. It’d keep you warmer.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. I’m already sweating.” She flaps her arms like a traxilla, sending gusts of her irresistible scent toward me. A coward would run as far from her as possible.
At least I’m not that. “Wait until we land, and every drop of perspiration turns to ice. You will have nothing left to complain about.” The lie feels ugly in my mouth. Delphie will suffer plenty on Usuri. Complaining about it is a way of life.
I herd her toward a bench until it hits the back of her knees, forcing her to sit. Then I secure her into the safety harness,yanking on the straps to ensure they’re snug over her puffy fur garments. She glares at me, and I glare right back.
“Why are you so...rude?” she asks.
“Rude? I just did you a favor. You could not buckle it yourself, and without it, you might be injured. You should thank me.” She would thank me if she knew what I’d like to do instead, peel her layers away like an imported fruit and eat what’s inside until her juice runs down my chin.
She sputters indignantly, her soft little mouth pursing and opening in the most mesmerizing way, but the nav panel blessedly chimes for my attention. I focus on the landing tasks to keep my thoughts away from her. We have no clean, flat spaceport here. The flight path to the settlement is a labyrinth of active volcanoes and craggy glaciers, so I settle into the pilot’s seat and ignore her resentful mutters so I can focus on flying.
This is my peace. Flying, fighting, anything that fully absorbs my mind and body and leaves no room for thoughts of the past or future. Let me be a bird. Let me be a weapon. Let me have a purpose.
I maneuver through the last icy crevasse before we reach the small opening that leads to the settlement built under a mountain. It’s the only settlement on Usuri, so it has no name. If it did, it would bear mine, as I am Jara of this shithole. But it’s barely populated, and those who live here do not consider it their home. Why call it anything?
The young warriors who come to apprentice are here for a few summers to learn their trade without the usual distractions, but they leave once they’ve gained enough skill. And then there are the miners. Some are here to make quick coin that they send back to their families. Some are here to escape or because nowhere else will have them. Some because they were sentenced. None of them come because they want to. None of them stay.
I dock the bird in the dark landing bay, rising to unclip Delphie’s harness. “Boots,” I command, dropping them at her feet before turning away to answer the polite rap on the hull.
Two warriors with breathers over their mouths and noses enter, and I show them where her possessions are stowed, along with the items I picked up at the market. They swiftly carry them off, and I turn back to Delphie. She still has bare feet, and the frigid, toxic air from the landing bay is leaking into the cabin.
“You need help.”
“No,” she huffs, struggling against her clothing to pull the boot on. “I can do it. I don’t need you.”
We don’t have time to waste. I kneel in front of her and grasp her heel, sliding the boot snugly into place. Then I repeat it with her other foot.
“Thanks,” she says, a little breathlessly, probably due to the increasingly terrible air quality.
“If you need help, I will give it to you, whatever it is,” I say roughly before I rise. “Remember that.”
Chapter 3
Delphie
My toes are tingling inside the soft, fur boots. My whole body is aware of this man. How he kneeled in front of me. How his thumbs brushed over my arches briefly before they notched into the dips at the back of my heels. How he slipped these ridiculous fluffy boots onto my feet as gently as Cinderella slippers. How he held my knees open, squeezing my calves through the fur, and promised to give me his help with anything I might need.
How about you lean forward a little bit and help me with this pussy problem I’ve suddenly got?
Things we don’t say to grumpy alien kings. Especially not when I’m wrapped in so many layers that I feel like a breaded piece of meat. And I need these layers. It’s already so cold in here, my thirsty-ass breath is turning to smoke. I waddle after him toward the ship’s exit.
