It’s meant to be a blink. Just a long blink. A blink where I do not imagine that his hands belong permanently locked over my stomach, or that this is what it might feel like to have someone at my back on purpose.
The rock creaks once, softly, far away, but enough to snap my eyes open again.
Sarven’s entire body goes rigid around me. The purr cuts off. His breath stills. Ten entire seconds stretch where he’s a statue made of heat and tension.
“What?” I whisper, every nerve re-sensitized.
He inhales slowly, then lets it out against my neck. The breath is warm enough to make my skin goosebump.
“Smell,” he rumbles. “Not… water. Not… stone.”
He goes quiet, listening with his whole body. My heart muscles in on the silence, beating loud enough that it sounds like part of the cave noise.
“Gone…now,” he adds after a moment.
But his arms tighten around me, and his purr doesn’t restart for a long time.
Chapter 9
I DO NOT KNOW WHAT A 'VENN DIAGRAM' IS, BUT I SUSPECT I AM IN IT
SARVEN
Iam awake.
And I am in trouble.
My arms are wrapped around something small, soft, and warm. At some point in the dark, Mih-kay-lah turned in her sleep. Her back is no longer against my chest; she lies sideways now, face tucked near my throat, legs draped over my thigh.
And her hip is grinding directly against the part of me that is currently trying to escape its sheath.
I amthrobbing. Painfully so. The heat pooling in my groin is not just my glow; it is something else entirely.
I stare at the cave ceiling.
If my brothers were here, Haroth would make a sound like swallowing stones wrong. Zan would pretend this does not interest him. Kelvan would just stare until I combusted from shame.
But they are not here. It is just me, the rock, and the small female using my throbbing pouch as a place to rest.
I take one deep, strangled breath.
I have never been with a female. Before the humans appeared in the dust, I had never even seen one. My member has always been… dormant. Locked away except for the rare occasions when I need to use the goldweep.
Now the lock seems broken, and my member is out of control.
It is terrifying.
Is it supposed to hurt this much? My pouch feels too tight to contain me. Every time she breathes, her ribs expand against my chest, and the friction sends a shockwave straight to my loins that makes my claws extend.
She shifts in her sleep, murmuring a soft sound, and her knee slides up. It presses right against the most sensitive part of me, hidden beneath the sealed, smooth skin of the pouch.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray to Ain for mercy.
In the mindspace, far off, I feel a brush of presence. Haroth.
“Alive?” he sends.
I answer with a sharp, warning pulse: “Busy. Go away.”
