I smile, picturing Weston and the rest of the crew’s faces if they saw Darolus, especially Darolus with me.
No one would mess with me with Darolus at my back. No one would dare. I chuckle, thinking of the havoc we could cause. Blat had muscle, but Darolus…
Darolus is a wall.
Sliding my hands over the fur, I slip my fingers downward. Slowly I drag them over my legs and up my thighs, drifting them between my legs. Shifting deeper beneath the hide to cover and warm my body, I arch my hips into my hand and press down hard on my clit. For better contact, I slip my hand into my pants, then close my eyes and curl my toes as the sweet sensations begin.
It’s been too long.
Darolus’s familiar smell fills me as I twirl my fingers around my clit over my underwear, delighting in the feel of stroking it, and for a while, I don’t think about anyone or anything at all. To me, masturbation is about release and sex is a means to an ends type of deal. I get off and my partner gets off, and we both have a little fun in the process. No stress, just satisfaction. Often accompanied by good food and something hard to drink, those rendezvous come complete with no questions, no contracts, and no second time. Enjoyable, but not something really worth making a priority.
I circle my clit faster, spreading my thighs wider, getting wetter. Quickly growing frustrated with my pants, I roll onto my back, unbuckle my belt, and shimmy them off, shoving them to the side of Darolus’s nest.
My thoughts on sex have changed since being here. It’s been cycles since my last dance, not sinceThe Wreckfirstgot stuck onThe Dreadnaut, and I’ve realized how much I’ve missed it. Once I get back to civilization, the first thing I’m doing is pulling a guy aside and getting some dick.
Rubbing harder, my muscles tighten and my breath shortens as the anticipation of climax materializes under my moving fingers. Close to the edge, I moan, shoving my heels down and lifting my hips into the weight of the hides above me, pretending they’re a lover. When my orgasm erupts, I hitch in a breath, turn my face to the side, and cry out, bunching the hides between my thighs, gathering them against my sex. I ride it out, purring in pleasure, undulating in the waves of release. Thrusting my hips into their softness, I make it last as long as I can, using both my hands to grip the bedding beneath me as the pleasure gradually fades.
I come down, huffing in the middle of Darolus’s nest.
Sitting upright abruptly, I make sure the boulders are still in place and he’s not there.
With a sigh of relief, I peer down at the mess I’ve made. Everything is wet. Way, way too wet. “Fuck.”
He could return at any moment.
Jumping out of his nest, I gather the ruined hides to dunk them in the pool.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Then, as if I called out to him mid-orgasm, I hear shifting rubble from inside the tunnel. I always hear him before he arrives; the pebbles his tail dislodges each time always herald his arrival behind the boulders. It’s nice to have those few seconds to prepare.
My heart beats faster and I curse, dashing back to his nest and spreading the hides over it instead of plunging them into the water. Quickly I cover the few I used with a bunch of others, hoping to at least mask my scent. Thatdone, I grab my pants and shove them back on. When I turn around a moment later, he’s pushing out the first boulder with his tail. I scurry back to stand by my own bed as he enters the room.
“You’re back,” I say, trying to act calm when my pussy is still fluttering from an incredible orgasm.
Darolus pauses and blinks at me. I stare back at him, noting the unreadable expression on his face. Pulling my lower lip into my mouth, I bite down on it as my gaze drops helplessly to the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders—and lower still, to his massive chest, rock-hard abs, and flat stomach.
He’s got the physique of a god. Any man would be jealous and intimidated by him. Releasing my lip from my teeth, my gaze drops farther, to his tail and the faint patterns on it that my fingers twitch to trace.
Are his scales as smooth as they look? As soft as his hides? Are they cool to the touch? Or warm and textured? I shake my head, confused by my thoughts and the sudden desire to reach out and run my hand down his chest.
Without a word, his gaze trails over my face, down my body, then back up it. I stiffen. His nostrils go wide and, as his gaze hones in on my crotch, my lips part in slow horror.
In his hand he’s holding a ragged piece of paper, but instead of coming closer, he coils his tail into the room and around him, flexing it the way he always does when he’s thinking hard.
“Darolus, what’s wrong? What’s that in your hand?” I say, trying to distract him.
He smells it. I know he does.
He smells my orgasm.
Or I’m paranoid.
I’m always paranoid.
Then he’s in motion. Heat races up my body to bloom across my face. I hurry to step in front of him but he’s already beside his nest before I can get between it and him. “Wait?—”
The end of his tail wraps around me, stopping me in my tracks as he leans over his nest and narrows his eyes.
