I let out a screech and barely dodge to the side as a clawed pincher scrapes along the rock beside me. Then I can smell the caustic scent of the creature that bit Thivoll.
Was it just waiting for me to be left alone? It must have been stalking us.
I kick out at it, catching it square on its powerful chest and causing it to slide backwards off the ledge.
As it scrabbles to regain its footing I have just enough time to pull out the gun. There is a long, thin band across its face that expands and contracts. I assume it's a nose and I aim straight for it and squeeze the trigger.
There's no missing at this distance and a hole blooms on one side of its face, propelling it backwards.
I hear a thud and its horrifying scream that rattles around in my skull.
I can't believe it's still alive.
Thivoll's roar from below is a relief, as is the sound of his tail singing through the air and the long, keening cry of the creature as his venom takes effect.
A moment later another dark form is in front of me, and even though I know it's Thivoll I can't contain a scream.
He gathers me to him, crushing me against him as he moves his hands over me, checking for injuries.
"I'm alright. It didn't get me."
I go limp in his arms, relieved he's safe and very glad to have him holding onto me again.
"Did you . . ." I trail off, completely losing my train of thought when he pulls me close to him, and takes a long lick up the side of my neck.
Thankfully, his tongue doesn't have hooks like a feline, but it's far rougher than a human tongue.
It's an exhilarating combination of smooth glide and scraping sensation that leaves a path of fired up neurons in its wake.
The lust that had died down in his absence—pushed back by my fear—comes rushing back and I moan.
I tilt my head back, ensuring he has better access, and thread my hands into his mane at the sides of his neck.
Each time he starts a new lick at the base of my throat I feel a zing race from the spot down to my core. On the third repetition I'm clenching my legs, trying to gain some relief.
On the fifth I get lightheaded from the overstimulation and my ragged breathing.
He moves one hand down, sweeping it across my hip, then around to my ass, pulling me up and into him.
When I feel his teeth scrape against my neck, this time I don't freeze or panic and instead focus on the sensation of them gliding against me.
He squeezes one of my ass cheeks, then pulls his head back. "Is this where I should hit you with my tail?"
I let out a long groan. "Get us off this ledge and somewhere with more room."
He starts his growly purr, squeezing one cheek, then the other, moving farther down.
"You are wet again, my Ree. I want to taste you, then see how we fit together."
He might kill me. "Now, Fluff Brain! More moving, less talking!"
He growls, pulling me close to his chest and speaks in a rough voice. "Hold on tight."
I do what he says, expecting him to drop us back down to the base of the rocks, but he instead starts climbing the cliff face.
It's too dark to see much of anything, but I still squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can and press my face into his fur. It's a few long minutes of terror before I feel the change in gravity.
He crouches down and my back presses against the cool, smooth stone. "Where are we?"
