“My mate, I worry about your species if simply combing your hair elicits such surprise.” I smooth my fingers down her scalp, and her skin reacts instantly, small bumps dotting along her arms and shoulders. Worry freezes me.
“What are these?” I ask, staring at them in horror. Has my mate contracted some illness?
I am a bad mate. I am not doing my duty of taking care of her.
“Oh, those?” She follows my gaze, a low laugh coming from her as she smooths a hand over her forearm. “Goosebumps.”
“Are you ill?”
“No, no, not at all. It’s ah, an involuntary reaction. Sometimes humans get them when they’re scared—”
“Are you afraid of me?” The thought of my little human fearing me makes me recoil, my stomach churning.
“No,” she says quickly, “goosebumps also happen if you’re cold—”
“It’s warm out. Are you cold?” At least she isn’t afraid of me. I relax slightly.
She snorts, her nostrils flaring as she fixes me with another look over her shoulder. “If you’d let me finish, I could tell you why I have them.”
I raise my eyebrows. It is amusing to me, this feisty nature of hers. She is used to being in charge, as am I, and I think neither one of us are used to being interrupted. I dip my chin, staying quiet to hear her explanation.
“Sometimes, when something feels good, it makes my whole body tingle, and sometimes it causes goosebumps.”
“Pleasure bumps?” I ask, touching the smooth skin of her shoulder with open curiosity. “Suevans have them as well. I can show you if you like, they are all along my cock.”
She chokes out a laugh, and from my position close behind her, I can see the tops of her full breasts bounce with it. I long to undo the clothing she uses to bind them. Seeing her breasts… touching them… I will treasure that opportunity.
“I have pleasure bumps,” I tell her. “Along my cock. They stimulate orgasm in female Suevans, along with the xof.”
“Ah. Okay. Good to know.” Her voice is high and small, and I frown.
I cannot understand why her species is so reticent to discuss anatomy. To me, her body is endlessly fascinating. Different, yes, but made for me. There’s no doubt in my mind. I will be able to bring her to orgasm, again, and again as she showed me she was capable of only a mere hour or so ago.
“I would give you these pleasure bumps,” I say. “Let me comb your hair.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about playing with my hair,” she says, and to my utter joy, she scoots backwards, nestling her thick ass between my legs, so near my cock that it twitches.
Control. I must control myself. She did not give me permission to do anything but comb her hair, and this I will do well.
Ni-Kee breathes a contented sigh as I gently scrape my talons against her scalp. I study her shoulder. The skin remains smooth.
A frown turns my lips down. Where are the pleasure bumps?
I try again. Gathering her hair, I hold it in one hand and run my talons gently over the nape of her neck before combing them through her soft, wet hair.
This time, she shudders slightly, and the pleasure bumps scatter across her skin. I run a talon across one in wonder, and she shivers again.
“That feels nice,” she says, her voice strained.
So I do it again, taking my time, leaving no part of her scalp untouched. Her hair is combed thoroughly, detangled, and yet, I can’t bring myself to stop touching it. It’s finer than the fibers of the yukyuk worm, soft and drying in shiny waves.
All the tension’s gone from Ni-Kee’s body, too, and she slumps against me, not even caring at the hard rod of my cock against the small of her back.
I’m so involved in the simple thrill of touching her hair, in watching the pleasure bumps scatter across her skin, that I don’t notice them until it’s too late.
The zoleh gives the first warning, standing up on its hind paws and chittering at the jungle.
An energy dart whizzes past where Ni-Kee leans against me, splashing into the water.
The separatists have found us.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NIKI
I scramble off the rock, flattening myself against the side closest to the lake. That was a Suevan plasma crossbolt. The high-pitched whine is unmistakable. I plug my ears, and the zoleh jumps down, seeking refuge in my lap.
Three, two, one.
The water behind us explodes, drenching my back and sending a fresh jolt of pain through my stupid blisters. I reach up for Draz’s tail, trying to tug him down with me so we can form an escape plan. My hands clench on nothing.
A roar tears through the clearing, so loud I can hear it over the waterfall.
I peek out from the side of the rock.
My mouth drops open. Draz is sprinting across the shore, towards where the bolt came from.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter. The zoleh yelps its agreement.
I need a weapon. I’m not good at sitting out from a fight, and I can help. Maybe it’s stupid, but I’m not going let Draz take on whoever is hunting us all alone.
For one, I need him. I clearly need his help to survive and get back to my crew.
And secondly… Well, he’s grown on me. I like the big, scarred alien.
I’m not just going to sit back and let him handle it.
I run my hands through the sandy dirt, looking for something, anything, I could use as a weapon. A sharp rock, a sharp shell, whatever.
My hands close over something thick and long, and I yank it out of the sand. Some kind of white bone, jagged on one end. Okay, perfect. Well, not perfect, maybe, but better than nothing. I can only hope that the bones of whatever lives on this monstrous planet are sharper than Suevan hide. Yeah, right.
I’m so fucked.
The little zoleh chitters at me, its mouth thankfully less fetid after berries and fresh water.
“I have to help him,” I tell it, clearly on the verge of losing my mind. “Don’t get hurt, you weird little alien thing.” The zoleh settles its huge head on its front paws, blinking up at me.
Another plasma bolt crashes into the lake behind me. I grin. Perfect.
Three, two, one.
I dart out from behind the rock, sprinting towards where Draz grapples with another Suevan. Draz launches a swift kick to the alien’s stomach, his claws raking down the scales. The attacker grunts, and Draz uses the distraction to force the energy knife from his hand. Its honed edge burns against the ground for a split second before Draz picks it up, hammering it into the other alien’s neck. Crimson blood spills from the gash in his throat.
Wow. Seeing him in action on a screen is one thing, but seeing him move like this, like fighting is a deadly dance… wow. He’s incredible, somehow wickedly fast and graceful despite his massive size.
And to think those vicious hands have carried me, have braided my hair and brought me berries.
It's over in a matter of seconds, and I’m still running for him, where a second attacker surges forward, clutching another plas knife.
Which means there are at least one or two more. I need to take out the crossbolt alien, and since I’m clearly the target here, I’ll have to play bait.
Well, bait that’s running toward the action with a bone shard and a lifetime’s worth of hand-to-hand combat training, but whatever.
“Over here,” I yell, and the second alien’s eyes go wide as he takes me in. A rough laugh leaves my throat, and I put on a fresh burst of speed. Draz growls low, sounding feral, and uses my momentary distraction to take the separatist down, drawing the knife at his neck.