Likely because itdoesdepend on it.
I won’t let her fall, of course. The thought of the cuts and bruises that would mar her body from the fall is enough to momentarily replace my purr with a growl.
“Let go of my neck.” It kills me to say it.
“Are you crazy?”
“It is not a term?—”
“I’m not letting go.”
Oh, she did not expect an answer.
How am I meant to know when her questions require a response? Are all human females this confusing?
Cindi’s stomach vibrates against me, and I frown. I’m worried she still has not eaten. How often must humans feed per day? Once? Twice? Five times?
The food shops on the mainland are always busier during midday and at night. So…only twice? She has to feed more often than that. Cindi is so small, I can feel her ribs through her dress. More concerning is that she feels more weightless than she did yesterday, yet she continues to refuse the fish I caught for her.
If my mate will not accept the fish I hunt for her, she may be more willing to feed if it was brought by Vasz. A sound of displeasure startles in my throat. I don’t like any male giving anything to my Cindi.
Cindi glances at the rocks below and defeats all forms of impossibility by tensing even more. I flatten my palm against her upper back, silently urging her to comply with my request. I prefer her arms not be exposed to avoid injury.
A moment passes, both of us staying completely still in the narrow passageway above the pool. There are two different accesses from the cave to get to land. This is the fastest way. The alternative is through the tunnel to the side of the cavern I blocked to keep bats from flying into the den.
I would have taken the longer route if Cindi hadn’t insisted on walking. Her feet are wounded because of my lack of attentiveness. I will not make that mistake twice.
The tunnel is very narrow. Some rocks jut out with sharpened edges. I had intended on cocooning around her, sacrificing my own skin to the stone, but she continues to insist on being difficult.
Humans.
“I will not let you hurt your hands.” Her legs are already wrapped around my waist after minutes of arguing. Despite the many times I’ve assured her I will not let her fall, that my armand tentacle will hold on to her, she refuses to comply and let me take the brunt of any scrapes.
In truth, I don’t want her to let go. I never do. The feeling of being held—willingly touched—is foreign. I could get addicted to it. I’m already mourning the moment where she’ll inevitably let go.
“No.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
She shoots me a scathing glare.
I sigh, readjusting my limb beneath her backside and around her waist to take more of her weight.
I continue through the tunnel, using my free arm and tentacles to suction us to the path and keep moving us upward. Her thighs tighten around me, and my breeding arm hardens. It remains that way as we crawl closer to the sunlight.
Alone, I can get to land in a matter of seconds. Today, I take my time, tightening my hold on Cindi so she’s flush against my chest, making her small breasts push up. I can’t help stealing glances when she isn’t looking.
Her sex is taunting me. I can taste her warmth on my suckers through the layers of fabric. My cock twitches against the rock. I want to dip my tentacle beneath her dress and suck on her nipple again to see if I can get her to make the good type of sounds.
But every inhale is sobering. Her scent is tainted by fear, and not the kind that leads to her screaming and fighting, only cranky. Maybe it’s because of her hunger as well.
Vasz gets that way when he hasn’t eaten.
With her silent—and only partially trusting—in my hold, I can almost imagine what it would be like if she didn’t hate me. We would lie in our den, and she would wrap her arms and legs around me just for the mere fact that she wants to. Because shewantsto feel me. We’d stay like that for hours while my hands and limbs roam over her.
Then she’d look up at me, and she’d smile. A real smile. A genuine one. Only for me. And my hearts would swell because the Goddess blessed me with a mate capable of loving me back.
But that is a fool’s dream, wishful thinking that holds no merit.
