“It’s all right, Dravka,” Valerie soothed. “I’ll help you through this Rut.”
For some reason, Dravka groaned at her words, his hips hitching slightly. Her brow furrowed, her lips parting, though she kept her gaze firmly on his face, ignoring the way heat bloomed between her thighs.
“These look uncomfortable,” Valerie said, reaching up for the clasp of the chains.
“Veki,” he snarled, panic morphing his features. Her hands froze. “Don’t touch them. Leave them.”
“Why?” she asked, frowning.
His jaw ticked, frustration evident on his features.
“Because you’re in here,” he bit out.
She frowned.
None of the other Keriv’i males acted like this during their Ruts. Dravka’s had always been particularly intense but…she’d never thought it was because of her.
“Me?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“Don’t touch them,” he repeated again, sweat dotting his brow, “unless you want to know how females really help Keriv’i males through a Rut.”
Shock made her freeze.
Pain crossed his features.
“Vauk,you need to leave. I can smell you,” he rasped.
It felt like she was in a daze. Confused.
“Do I smell bad?” she asked, embarrassed.
A laugh burst from his throat and his gaze met hers. This Dravka was different. Intense and dark. Frustrated and impatient yet focused.
“Veki, Val. You smell good. Too good. That’s the problem,” he growled, all humor gone after his laugh. “And I really need to come soon or mytaxxamight fucking explode.”
Valerie’s lips parted, her ears ringing.
“So I need to unchain myself and you cannot be in here when I do,” he finished.
He was trying to scare her, Valerie realized. Even though her skin felt prickly and her spine tingled from his words—and his implication—she also didn’t like the pain on his face. She’d known that a Keriv’i male’s Rut could be painful…and this one seemed different.
She didn’t know what possessed her to say it, but she whispered, “I can help you, Dravka.”
The male froze, even as a trickle of sweat ran down his temple and onto the bed underneath him.
Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest. Her cheeks were flushed—partly from embarrassment, partly from her arousal—and when she licked her dry lips, Dravka’s nostrils flared.
“You can what?” he rasped.
“I can help you,” she said again. “What do you want me to do?”
Another groan escaped him, his back bowing when another wave hit him, his hips rolling. More moisture wetted the front of his pants. His pre-cum, she knew.
“And what are you gonna do, Val?” Dravka purred when the wave left him panting. His brow furrowed, his eyes bleary with his need. “Are you gonna touch me? Talk to me? Are you gonna say filthy things in my ear to make me come?”
Her mind swam. In some ways, this felt like a surreal dream. Like she’d landed in one of her numerous fantasies starring Dravka. But this was real, wasn’t it? They were in his darkened room in the Cluster. He was deep in a powerful Rut. In the morning, would he even remember this?
He’d never spoken to her like this before. He’d never eye-fucked her the way he was doing right now. Was this how he was with his clients? This sensual and intense and roughened?
