“You have fur over your cunt, Mae.”
He says my name like it's a kindness, a choice he's made. But a shudder runs up my spine all the same.
Warlord Mekkra wants to wash my cunt fur.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Every muscle in my body freezes as I realize what’s about to happen. His presence, controlled for now, looms behind me—waiting for my reply.
The steam from the giant tub curls around our bodies like ghostly tendrils. We're both so still that the surface of the water looks like glass. Mekkra opens his mouth to speak, his warm breath fanning against the back of my neck, and my skin prickles.
“I—I don’t have to touch you,” he says softly, realizing the weight of what he’s asking. “If that matters to you.”
The addition or subtraction of his hand in the situation shouldn’t make a difference, but it does, weirdly. If only bikini waxes existed in space, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. The attempt at compassion on Mekkra’s end lets my shoulders relax, but only a little.
I nod, staring straight ahead, trying to remove any hint of fear from my voice. “Just…get it done.”
There’s a pause, a sharp inhalation of breath, before he cups his hand under my butt and lifts me onto the edge of the huge bath. Mekkra reaches his beefy arm behind me and his fur tickles the outside of my arm. It’s soft, so muchsofter than you would think, and I hate that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
When he pulls back, he’s got some kind of metal hose in his hands. A thick, cascading ribbon of steaming water flows out of the tube’s head with the click of a button.
“May I begin?” he asks, eyes lowered.
“Yes,” I breathe, gripping the sunken tub’s cold, tiled edge.
He moves closer, the strands of his fur floating up like a reverse image of cream in coffee, and he aims the stream of warm water towards the apex of my thighs. He works, almost methodically, left to right, starting at the small of my belly. Slowly, so fucking slowly, the warm and insistent waters tease closer to my most sensitive parts.
The bends of my knees soften, and I find myself leaning farther back.
It feels good, and god, am I embarrassed to admit how quickly my body has reacted to the smallest bit of attention. How could something so simple as a stream of water threaten to undo me?
Get it together, Mae.
He adjusts the angle, and until now the stream of water hasn’t lingered in one spot for more than a second. But with this change, Mekkra finds my clit like there’s a flashing neon sign saying “orgasm here.” The thrumming pressure of warm liquid on the nerves there makes my breath hitch and the most awkward of groans escape my lips.
I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop the humiliating sound from lasting any longer than it already has. I couldn’t have hidden that reaction if I tried.
His eyes lock on mine, that fucking primal look he gave me on our first meeting suddenly rekindled.But this time, there’s a hint of curiosity behind that look of want.
He moves his hand back and forth, directing the water in a tiny circle around my clit. This time it’s definitely deliberate.
My hand doesn’t leave my mouth even as my ass clenches and I try to tell myself that this has nothing to do with him. It’s just heat, nerves, and my body's need for release. My hips lift from the ground, and my innermost muscles throb as all the blood in my body rushes to my pussy.
It’s just fucking water.
But my body betrays me, and I try to position myself so that he keeps hitting the best spot. I chase the sensation of my pleasure at the cost of my common sense.
He pulls the metal hose slightly off its target.
“You’re trembling,” he whispers.
I shake my head no, even as my other hand grips the tile all the tighter.
“Hmm,” he says as he hits some control on the hose.
He guides it back home, the trickle of water from before more powerful. It feels like it’s swallowing up the whole of my clit, the undulating pressure triggering the release of a delicious shower of sparks that flood all the way to the tips of my toes.
“This is… affecting you,” he says, and something in his voice changes. The careful neutrality of before is thinning. “I should stop.”
