I shake my head. The image is useless. I cannot make words. I cannot protect my Jaime from everything that can harm him out here. I need to bring him to my den as quickly as possible and keep him there. At least in my den, there are no dangerous creatures to attack him, and he’ll be shielded from sharp light. The fastest route cuts through the corner of venomfang territory, but if I’m fast, they won’t notice us there.
A calculated risk is still a risk.
The words emerge from the fog like they are supposed to mean something, but they only add to my confusion and make my head hurt more. I need sleep, too, but I should stay awake to guard my Jaime. What if he wakes while I sleep and leaves? I don’t want him to leave. He’s mine.
He sleeps deeply, his breathing even, and I take a moment to appreciate his form. Two arms, two legs. Even after the time I’ve spent with him, it’s still odd. Though, some of the images emerging from the fog show other creatures moving around on two legs. None look exactly like my Jaime but they’re similar, so perhaps it is possible to move around with too few limbs.
My gaze snags on the spot where his legs start. Where his cock is. I saw it earlier. I know he has one. It looked soft and smaller than mine, but it was outside. Does that mean he wishes to…
I don’t know how to finish that thought. I have never let another creature touch my cock. Yet, I have memories of someone touching it. Different someones, too, with differently colored hands. Not Jaime-colored hands, though. I want Jaime’s hands on my cock. The realization makes it slip out of its pouch, hard and aching, and I grab it without thinking.
Jaime's cock didn’t come out of a pouch. It was just…there. How does he protect it when he fights?
I huff a muffled laugh at the thought. Jaime doesn’t fight. He just brings his tiny head furs together and glares. Oh, and he throws rocks, which is an inefficient form of defense.
Running two of my hands over my shaft, I try to imagine Jaime’s cock again. Would it get bigger if I touched it? I don’t know where that idea came from, but I’m suddenly so excited to try that I stalk closer to Jaime’s sleeping form. With a hand over his second skin, I pause. Would he be angry if I touched him? I want to touch but I don’t want angry Jaime. I want nice Jaime who chitters excitedly and bares his teeth at me in the not-snarl.
Then I remember how he covered his cock when I snatched the angerleaves from him. He didn’t want me to see it. If he didn’t want me to see it, he wouldn’t want me to touch it.
It’s not fair. Jaime is mine, so his cock is mine, too. I should be able to touch it whenever I want. Except something tells me I can’t. Not until he agrees to it. It comes from the same place as the knowledge that Jaime is my mate. As much as it pains me, I trust that knowledge. No touching Jaime’s cock until he asks.
It’s still not fair.
Stalking into the tunnel, just far enough that I can still see Jaime’s legs and hear his breathing, I squeeze my cock harder. With my claws sheathed, I wrap my fingers around the base, shuddering when I touch the opening of my pouch. I’ve never done that before. I was always focused on getting my cock soft and back into the pouch as quickly as possible, but now I’m curious. Reaching inside, I rub the root of my cock, a whimper escaping me as a thrilling wave of new sensation washes over me.
Slowly moving two hands over my rigid shaft, I explore various spots inside of my pouch, finding places that cause such strong pleasure when touched that my vision blacks out momentarily.It’s not my scaly hands I imagine on me, though. I try to picture Jaime’s soft hands touching me, like in those memories that emerged from the fog.
Jaime’s palms stroking me, the spikes on my cock rubbing against his skin. Jaime’s fingers deep inside me, teasing that spot I didn’t know existed before today. Jaime’s words. His word for me on his lips.
Adam.
I picture him saying it over and over as he touches me, my strokes growing faster and rougher until, with a shudder, I come. As my cock fluid spatters on the wall of the tunnel, I imagine it landing on Jaime’s skin. His dark brown skin, not the outer gray one. Marking him as mine. Because he is mine. Only mine.
Spent, I return to the cave, pleased to see that Jaime is still sleeping. The noises I’ve been making haven’t woken him up and he continues to slumber peacefully, his lovely scent permeating the cave, no fear-scent present in the heady mix that is my Jaime.
Some rest would be in order, so that I can guard Jaime better on our journey. I curl up in the corner the best I can, careful not to touch Jaime. I want to. I want to touch him so much, but he’s not awake to agree to it. Except that no touching rule was only for his cock, was it not? No touching Jaime’s cock unless he agrees. Yes. But what about the rest of him? There’s so much of Jaime to touch. And I’ve already touched him when I carried him. He agreed to that. If I touch him the same way now, he’s still agreeing to it, isn’t he?
My head throbs in time with my heartbeat and I grind my teeth together not to whimper out loud. So many thoughts. Why do I have so many thoughts? I’ve never had thoughts like this. The fog always swallowed them and it didn’t let anything through, especially not annoying rules telling me I can’t touch Jaime’s cock. Briefly, I wish the fog would take over again, then I recoilfrom the thought. The fog makes me kill. I could hurt Jaime. I’d leave him to fulfill the fog’s wishes to claw and tear things apart. I’d come back covered in the blood of the creatures and Jaime would be afraid of me again.
No. The fog better stay where it is. I can deal with a pain in my head. Breathing in Jaime’s scent helps, so I shuffle closer and closer, until my snout is buried in his head fur. Careful not to wake him, I poke my finger at the curly strands, surprised by how springy they feel, bouncing back as soon as I remove my finger. I play with the fur spirals some more, entranced by the alien texture, but then Jaime sighs. The upper part of his body rolls on the side, but his legs stay as they were when he was on his back. Still asleep, he grumbles and wriggles, making sounds of displeasure.
Not wanting Jaime displeased, not even in his sleep, I shift his legs into what I hope is a good position for him to continue sleeping. It seems to work, because he settles with another deep sigh, his breaths evening out again.
Now that he’s turned away from me, I can’t watch his face anymore but my own eyes are closing too, so I don’t mind so much. Just a moment of rest. Then I’ll see if the sharp light has ended. When it’s safe to travel, I’ll bring Jaime to my den. Perhaps once he’s there, he’ll let me touch his cock. Or touch mine. He doesn’t even have to wait for me to agree because I would agree with that very much. Until then, I will hold him.
Shifting closer, I rest my front against his back, wrapping my arms around him to support him. With my snout buried in his springy fur, I let myself drift off to sleep.
Chapter 11
Jaime
Iwakeupwitha start, confused about where I am and why creeper vines are wrapped around my body. Once the initial wave of panic subsides and my brain engages, I realize the vines are Adam’s limbs, probably all eight of them, wrapped around me like I’m a Christmas ham. Judging by the even breaths coming from behind me, he’s still asleep, so I stay still, not wanting to wake him. The poor male has been lugging my ass around all day. He deserves some rest.
I realize I’m lying on my side and frown, trying to remember how I got there. I usually wake up when I need to roll overand spend a minute or two repositioning my legs until I’m comfortable. It’s possible I did that in my sleep, but something tells me that my alien keeper had a hand or four in it.
It’s sweet, especially since he definitely didn’t take any courses on caring for a disabled person. Yet, he’s doing all the right things, purely on instinct. Alien instinct at that. It’s remarkable and sweet. Did I mention sweet? I’m a sucker for sweet guys. Not those who just woo you with sweet words, but those who actually back those words with actions. And Adam is all action.
I’m thirsty, need to pee, and my cock is uncomfortably hard, but since there’s nothing I can do about any of that right now, I let myself enjoy the first time I’ve woken up in someone’s arms. I’ve had sex before, a few times, though looking for hookups as a disabled gay is, unsurprisingly, quite difficult, but I’ve never had this. Someone holding me just to hold me. Sleeping next to me. Carrying me around. Protecting me. Looking after me. The person who comes closest to this is Steven, but I’m absolutely not going to think about my brother while sporting an aching erection.
