"Why me?" Chalath snarls. "What did I do?"
Liz doesn't back down. "I've met you, buddy. I'm sure you did something."
I huff, hands on hips. "I didn't want to feast anyhow." Feasting is honestly the last thing on my mind right now. I'm extremely aware of the differences between Valmir and Chalath now that they're standing closer together. Valmir has lighter fur, with a grayish tabby marking. Chalath has a blue nose and blue skin underneath his striped fur, and his features are more blunted. Then there's the tail. Valmir's is currently swishing right now, the very epitome of an agitated housecat. It's almost funny.
Almost, except I'm painfully aroused at the moment and my khui won't shut the hell up.
Liz makes a shooing motion at us, and I guess we're all supposed to slink away and ruminate on our sins. I bite back my glare and return to my hut, because I'm not in a social mood anyhow. Maybe I can rub one out and ease some of this tension before my roomie comes back from the feast.
But I don't take three steps into the darkness before someone jogs up to my side.
Valmir.
"Go away," I say.
"No." He walks faster, turning around so he can jog backward and face me as I march towards the hut. "I did as you asked. You set the rules. Now I want my reward."
I power-walk even faster, trying to push ahead of him. "What reward?"
"You know." He moves somehow faster, keeping ahead of me and staring me down.
I do know. Heat flares through my body. I race past him, rushing to my hut and ducking inside before he can get there. Ishoot him a triumphant look from the doorway, pleased I won this ridiculous contest between us.
He follows me, stepping onto the platform, but makes no effort to come inside. Instead, he just leans against the thick rock wall of the hut and eyes me. "Do you renege on our deal?"
"Renege" is such a final word. It makes me pause, and pausing is my downfall, because now I'm thinking about what Valmir is asking. "You really want to jerk off on my door?"
Valmir's expression grows cloudy with frustration. "I don't want to, but Ineedto. I don't understand it myself. It's just something I feel I must do." He rakes a hand through his mane, making it spike up like a lion's. "Even now, not having my scent on it is driving me mad. It'stauntingme."
"And jerking off will make it better? Is this a cat thing?"
His eyes narrow at me. "Does it matter?"
I guess it doesn't. I think back to the confrontation by the fire, and it warms something deep inside me despite myself. "Did you really punch Chalath for me? I thought you guys were friends."
"You set the rules, and I'll obey them."
Why is that so incredibly erotic? I pull the curtain even further back from the hut doorway, leaning against the frame. I point at the opposite side. "You can mark it there."
With a feral growl, he tears at his layers of clothing, pulling his tunic free from the thick belt that bands his waist. He flings it over his head, revealing broad shoulders and a muscular frame, and more of the grayish striped markings. They dance over his sides, highlighting firm abdominals, and when he rips his belt off, they seem to flex in response. I'm entranced by those patterns on his skin.
At least until he drops his pants and reveals everything else. Then I have something new to be fascinated over. Even though it'sdark and shadowy out, I can make out the thick length of him. He grips himself, stroking his hand down his shaft, the head peeking out from his fist. Is he striped there, too? It's so shadowy, I can't tell. "Hang on," I blurt out. "I need to get a candle so I can see better."
"Hurry," he rasps, his hand working up and down his shaft. He doesn't even pause.
I race back into my hut and scramble for a candle. There's one in a hollowed-out hoof, the interior filled with tallow, and my hands shake as I practically shove it into the coals in the firepit to get it lit. Why am I so into this? Who can say, but I'm totally invested in what happens next, that's for damn sure. With candle in hand, I stampede back to the doorway and return to watching.
Valmir does not disappoint. His big hand works up and down his shaft, manipulating his foreskin and dragging it back and forth. The head of his cock is flushed a deep pink and he moves his hand furiously, his khui thrumming almost as frantically as mine.
This should not be sexy, I tell myself. This should not be sexy. This should not be sexy.
But I'm completely aroused and breathless at the view of him pumping into his hand. I catch sight of some sort of pattern that disappears under his hand. I move the candle closer, determined to see. They look like flushed pink circles of some kind, and they are spaced out in even patterns all along the length of his shaft. "What are those from?"
"Don't...know..." he grits out, still jerking.
"Are they tattoos?" My fingers itch to touch, to stroke, but I clench my free hand into a fist. This should not be sexy. This should not be sexy.
"Don't know," he repeats, impatient. One hand grips the door frame, and he aims the head of his cock toward it.
