I cross my legs. I don't know if it does anything, but it's worth a try. "Well, it's not working right now, is it?" I challenge him right back - even though I know damn well I'll probably lose this one.
Mavyx stops sniffing the air, his tail twitching as he stays there, poised like he's waiting for the right moment to pounce. The thought of his massive body suddenly covering mine while he makes those feral growling noises does something to my pussy. Bonus points if he holds me down.
There's a knowing, lop-sided grin that lazily appears on his lips as he arches one brow at me.'See, I have an effect on you, too,'that expression seems to say and in all honesty, I can't blame him for it. I tease him so often, after all.
He crouches in front of me, stretching out his beautiful dark wings. I take a moment to appreciate them - the way the stars on his feathers look like little multi-colored constellations. If I'm stuck with an overbearing asshole who wants to fuss over me and order me around, at least he'smorethan pretty to look at.
When my eyes finally connect back with Mav's, that knowing expression only grows, and he stretches his wings wider, silently inviting me to look my fill.
"Stop trying to show off," I huff, extending a foot to nudge his knee and hopefully knock him off balance. I do no such thing, of course, he's as sturdy as a century-old oak. His warm hand does shoot out to grab my ankle, though, causing millions of little tingling sensations to zing up my leg at the contact.
"I think you like when I show off for you, Ah-Lanah," he accuses, cocking his head to the side, like he's assessing me, testing me and what I might do when he has a hold of me like this. His massive hand tugs on my leg, forcing me to shift my ass closer, using my weight on my hands behind me to do so more smoothly. My other leg falls to the side, opening me up to him a little more. Thank all the deities out there, I'm wearing my pajama pants and not one of those little cave-girl skirts some of the others have been making.
Looking down at my bent, splayed leg, Mavyx grunts to himself and tugs on me again - the act so possessive, sobarbarian, I'm caught off guard. "Mavyx," I say breathily, staring up at that stern face of his. His nostrils flare and he closes his eyes for a moment. There's the beginnings of a groan lodged in his throat, but it breaks off into a whine before his golden eyes are on me again, pupils blown wide.
"I will take you to the crafters," he says, eyes hooded as he stares at me.
"What?" I hadn't been listening. I'd forgotten what we were even talking about. I feel too hopped up on anticipation of how he might man-handle me next.
Mavyx gently places my leg down on the ground and stands, clearing his throat and adjusting his loincloth. The adjustments he makes do very little to conceal the absolute monster he's packing under there. My throat goes dry. "You wanted to make me a seed pot," he grunts, jutting his chin. "I'll take you to the crafters. I am sure I will have finished your cunt-touching hut by the time you are done with your clay work."
I'm still staring at his tented loincloth when his words sink in. "Huh?Oh!" I shake my head and stretch my leg out to jab him in the calf with my foot again. He meets my jab with a playful flick of his tail and a smirk on his lips. "You know I hate when you call it that!"
"I know," he chuckles softly.
"And I'm not making you jack-shit!"
Mavyx's brows crease. "I do not want you to make me a jaq-sheet. A seed pot will do."
Rolling my eyes I reach out a hand, silently asking for help to get up. He gives it without question and steadies me as I rise. "Just take me to the other girls so I don't try to murder you out of irritation and sheer boredom."
Mavyx grins. "Say please, little female."
The thwack I give his chest does nothing but inspire warm laughter before he escorts me to go and find the other girls.
***
I tell myself thatno,I didn't make a seed pot - for Mavyx or anyone else. The...thingthat I ended up making could be used to store anything. If we were back on Earth I might use it to keep cotton balls in, or cash, or keys - a whole bunch of them.
Oh, who am I kidding? The thing is hideous and I wouldn't have it anywhere near my home. It's all lopsided and lumpy. It looks like a preschooler's art project.
That somebody sat on.
And, even though I was aiming for a storage container for food or water, it appears I still ended up making one of their weird-ass cum pots for their weird-ass offerings to their weird-ass egg temple.
"It is... a noble first try," the Trixikka who Mavyx had tasked with watching over me says, taking the janky jizz jar from my hands and placing it on the high shelf for drying that none of the humans can reach.
"It's a crime against pottery is what it is," I grumble. "Can you just..." I make a nudging gesture with my hand, indicating that he should move some of the other girl's jars, jugs, and bowls in front of mine to conceal the clay atrocity.
The Trixikka flashes me a very handsome grin and does as I ask.
"Just, don't tell Mavyx that I made that," I plead.
His face pales. "I-I do not think I should keep things from my Second Spear. Especially concerning his mate. He will-"
I'm about to correct him. Mavyx and I are not mates. But, as the old adage goes,speak of the devil and he shall appear. Mavyx enters the crafter's hut, his huge bulky frame suddenly blocking out all that sunlight from outside. "You are correct," he grunts, eyes narrowed on the Trixikka beside me. "None of my males should keep anything from me." He looks at me next, his stare intense. "Especially when it concerns Ah-Lanah."
I won't lie and try to claim that the hungry look in his eye does nothing for me, because it absolutely does. The guy looks like he is ready to throw down just because there might be something he doesn't know about me that this other bird-man does.
