I don't ask what kind of practice; I don't need to. The scars on his body tell their own story. Instead, I let the silence stretch, the tension between us shifting into something more complicated.
As he works, I find myself studying him, his features sharp and alien, yet somehow familiar. There's a strength in him that I can't deny, a resilience that mirrors my own. And beneath the teasing and the banter, there's a connection that's hard to ignore.
I'm not sure when his overbite of fangs stopped looking weird. Now they just look attractively deadly.
There's an answering throb between my legs as I soak in the sight of him. And a warmth in my chest when I see how focused he is on his task. He's annoying as hell, but pretty useful.
That doesn't mean I want to be horny right now.
Man, fuck those slimes, I groan internally.
29
Drasuk
The last stubborn spike comes free with a satisfying pop. I toss it into the water with the others, watching it disappear in a swirl of bubbles.
Relief washes over me, doing nothing to crowd out the desire that simmers beneath the surface each time I brush against her.
Kira, still submerged in the water, is a vision of raw vulnerability.
Her face, usually adorned with a mask of defiance, is etched with pain, her breathing ragged. Yet, even in this state, she exudes an undeniable strength, a quiet fire that burns brighter than anything I've encountered on this terrible planet.
As I reach out to offer her a hand, a niggling urge takes hold.
My fingers, rough from years of combat, brush against the cool smoothness of her exposed stomach. It's a fleeting touch,almost an afterthought, but the jolt that runs through me was immediate, a spark igniting a bonfire within.
So much for finding relief.
Kira's breath hitches. Her eyes shoot up to meet mine, a mixture of surprise and indignation flaring within them. Before she can protest, I retract my hand, the phantom warmth of her skin lingering on my fingertips.
There is a satisfied cant to my spines, I'm sure of it. It isn't just the thrill of successfully navigating the treacherous terrain or the adrenaline rush of the fight that still pulses through me. This is something altogether different.
A yearning that goes beyond mere survival.
Something forbidden.
"There's a lot more of you I wouldn't mind seeing cleansed," I rumble, a playful lilt to my voice.
A snort escapes her nose, half in pain, half in amusement. "As much as I appreciate the offer,lizardman, I can handle the rest myself."
Despite her words, her eyes hold something else in them I don't know how to interpret.
I lean closer, relishing the earthy scent that clings to her damp skin. "Are you sure? You seem to be having quite a bit of trouble with remaining clothed."
My teasing only serves to deepen the flush creeping up her neck. "Don't push your luck."
The growl that escapes her throat, however, isn't entirely devoid of heat. It sends a delicious shiver down my spine.
Here is a woman who wasn't afraid to show her teeth, to meet me head-on. And for whatever reason, I keep seeking more.
"Rear wipe," she mutters, then her eyes widen. "Finally," she growls out, throwing her head back in laughter. "Something that properly translates. Well, sort of translates."
"It only took you an entire day. It's a simple language, Kira. Very straightforward, and yet you still manage to approach it like... What was your phrase? A fumbling fornicator."
My amusement falters at the icy glare she shoots my way. "Fornicate in your own hole," she hisses out.
"We clearly need to discuss our roles and holes. I know you have one. I can smell how much it wants me to fill it," I respond, my tone playful yet edged with seriousness.
