Annabell was a mess of jabbering words. Helpless.
Lowering his face, he tormented her woman's place as he had her breasts, rolling his tusks over the surface, back and forth. Not giving her what she wanted.
Annabell's pleas escalated to screams, but he made that harsh sound again, so loud she felt it in her chest. At the same time his hands grabbed her sides, jostled her, demanding she pay attention.
"What? I don't know. Please."
Without words, he used what he had. Moving his eyes over her in possession. Squeezing her. Lowering his head, showing her his decadent, sinful tongue.
Seeing him do that drove her mad. "Yes. Yes. That. Give me that, please. However you want. Whatever you want. I'm yours. I'm yours, just please, make this feeling of emptiness and pain go away," she cried.
Eyes flickering, his face changed with a fierce, greedy desire. He gave her that growling, aggressive sound, lighting her up in an instant. Screaming, Annabell's body took her into a climax, a beginning with no ending. Her muscles undulated, her flesh pulsed. It felt wonderful—awful. She wet herself because of it. Liquid splashed between her legs, escaped and she did not know why it was happening. She had never done such a thing.
Doku-ni lowered his head, tongue out, to take in everything she expelled.
"No. You can't," she moaned, not meaning a word of it. Wanting him. Wanting this. Inexplicably aroused by everything he did.
He licked, torturing her more, not giving her relief, growling harshly. Drinking up her feminine. Wanting every part of her, even the mess, a disgusting gush between her legs. It was forever before he finally touched her in the places where she needed, his tongue going between the swollen petals of her vulva.
Reaching for his head to push him deeper, show him what she needed, he responded by catching her fingers in his teeth, just enough to pinch, and then spitting her hand out of his way and going back to doing what he wanted. Annabell was ready to howl in frustration, but nothing she did would hurry him forward. He kept her desire hovering, shimmering intangible waves of heat and rippling flesh.
Savoring her, eating at her, making her toes curl and fingers clench, Doku-ni thoroughly wrecked her. His hands over her breasts, squeezing, sometimes rubbing over her nipples, his face between her legs, he lavished her with attention. Sparks popped behind her eyes, but it wasn't enough; not deep enough, consistent enough. Nothing she could do would hurry him or change him.
Until he showed her he knew exactly what he was doing as he reached the stiff, maddened peak of her clitoris, working it with his tongue. Growling into Annabell, he filled her up with vibrations. Her sparks became explosions, stealing her breath. Mouth open, caught in a fall from grace into exquisite pleasure, Annabell's body seized hard, taking her over.
He stopped the growl just long enough for her to collapse and take a breath before doing it again. The power of it jerked her hard into the next orgasm, sending her soaring. It was like nothing she had ever felt. The first link in a fire-forged chain, his giving of pleasure moving into her, and taking over, taking ownership, creating a bond she could never escape.
Never wanted to escape.
Three, four times he did that, wringing all the moisture from her body and then going down to her center, and sinking his tongue in there. She felt it. Felt him licking at her walls, felt him lapping, his teeth pressing at her softest, vulnerable parts.
Everything. This male wanted everything. No part of her was crude or disgusting. Giving her joy, taking joy from her. No one forced him, and his reasons had nothing to do with practicality. This was a raw, primal exchange, with everything she had fantasized about, and more. Because he didn't stop. She lost count of orgasms, large and small, when they started and when they ended. He gave her endless amounts of pleasure. That was all she knew.
Eyes opening and closing, she saw the overhang of rock, the light of the Child in his journey across the sky, the branches from the trees, birds, and small things moving about. The world was awake, singing songs of life, overcome now and then by other cries, other pleas. Annabell had not been the only woman receiving pleasure, and they were out in the open, all in the same space.
The memory of her mother started to say something about proper, but Doku-ni did something, filled her right at that moment, so that she had to look and see. His hands clutching at her breasts, one hand found her nipple, pinching as he filled her again.
In her. In her with his finger. One. Then two. Pushing deep, pressing against her inner walls, using a pumping, sawing motion that hurt. She was so aware of him inside of her, penetrating her in an imitation of sex.
Inside. Inside. Her white Orki was inside of her. Filling her. Completing her dreams.
She would have cried, screamed, wailed, overcome with emotion, but the orgasm that took her, after all the others, wrenched her body hard and fast. Sent her up, sailing. Instead of continuing to drive her, this time his hands gentled. His mouth kissed her mound, her belly, her thighs, soothing. His purr returned, and she couldn't hold on to wakefulness for another second.
Annabell slept.
Chapter 11
Why Am I So Hot?
The white Orki carried her back to the main area of the camp after finishing the morning routine. Scattered in the shallow divot of solid granite, the sight of their bedding mess irritated her enough to make her fingers twitch. That needed fixing. Everything about it was wrong. She couldn't imagine how they slept there.
He threw them down that morning with haphazard abandon. The male didn't know what he was doing. It wasn't right. Not right at all. The pile lacked what she needed for comfort, no mattress, not enough soft materials, it was in a bad place, and a mess of rough lumps.
But not here. Open aired, exposed to everything and everyone, anything could attack them. Her Orki was a warrior, but he couldn't make a proper bed, and the position of it left them both vulnerable. The moment he set her down, she rushed over to fix it and find a place for a better bed, gathering everything up.
Rudely, he stopped her. The unwanted interference rubbed her nerves like a bristle brush, and she growled at him.
Ignoring her, his face passive, he took the saddle blanket back with a jerk. That unflappable calm of his was a slap in the face. She would ignore him. When he threw it over the back of the war beast, Annabell tried to snatch it back.
