“Dakrival hide Balia? Rika?” She made a motion with her hands that looked like the sewing of hides. Was she asking who had made her garments? I couldn’t see why that mattered.
“I made them last night.” I gestured to myself. She didn’t seem convinced that I understood her meaning, so I copied her sewing gesture then pointed to myself.
Absurdly, this made her face crumple inward in despair and her hands flew up, pressing hard against her eyes as her shoulders shook. Rika must have been wrong. Panic filled me. Surely this is not normal.
I was about to reach for her when she tipped forward, pressing her hands and face into my chest. I grappled at her back, drawing her hard against me, as if by doing so I could undo whatever malady plagued her. And it worked, somewhat. Soon, her shuddering subsided, and she turned her damp face up to mine, saying one of her words that I did not recognize. Then she rose up on her little toes, pulling at my shoulders. She said something in irritation, then pointed at her mouth.
Now what? Something was wrong with her mouth?
She spoke more, then reached up to tap my mouth, then hers again. Her face was drawn tight with determination. She wanted something. Realization dawned, and with a groan, I lowered my mouth to hers. As her wet mouth opened under mine, I tried to remind myself of my ablik will. I am a mighty Gahn. I will be a god among men. I will show such restraint that stories will be told of it round fires forever...
My body did not care about such noble musings. My cock hardened, pressing hungrily against Zeezee’s abdomen. She did not shy away, and her small hands moved back down to lock around my waist as she arched against me. I could not shake the image of replenishing the fluids she’d lost from her eyes with my own. I’d fill her until her cunt was dripping. Or her mouth. I hissed as my cock throbbed painfully in response to that image.
How men with mates got anything done was beyond me.
But, like it or not, we did have things to do. Though it pained me, badly, I pulled back from Zeezee, brushing away the last remaining wetness from her cheeks.
“We must go now.” I smiled to myself, then imitated her garbled wording. “Buroudei Cece to walk to retrieve sand.”
Zeezee licked her lips, her breathing ragged, but she smiled and nodded her head in a way I now recognized as “yes,” her braid bouncing against her shoulder. Without further delay, I helped her up into the saddle.
CHAPTER NINETEEN Cece
I sat stock still in the saddle, trying very hard to keep my shit together. We didn’t need more tears now, but it was tough. Those socks were just so soft and small. The fact that somebody in the tribe cared enough about the lost human girl who barely spoke their language to make her new clothes and socks was already enough to set me off. And finding out it was actually Buroudei? Yeah, that was a whole other level. The image of him, bent over and sewing a garment as ridiculously small as one of these socks, making sure it would fit my puny human foot, was a shot straight to my goddamn heart.
I watched him as he frowned and muttered to himself, fussing with the saddle, tightening some things and adjusting others. I watched his muscles bunch, his jaw growing hard in concentration, his starkly beautiful eyes focused. Frankly, I was kind of wondering if he was even real. A strong warrior who seemed addicted to giving me pleasure, who’d made me a pair of freaking socks, plus new pants and a saddle? My last boyfriend couldn’t have even been bothered to take the trash out.
Why was I comparing him to my last boyfriend?
What exactly is he to me?
My captor? My saviour? My big alien boyfriend?
Honestly, I had no idea. All I knew was that the closer we got, the less I wanted to be away from him.
Soon enough, Buroudei grunted in satisfaction at his handiwork, and I wiggled my hips, settling in. This was about a thousand times more comfortable than the last time I’d ridden on this thing. My legs felt supported and cushioned, and when Buroudei swung up behind me after securing all our supplies, I was able to lean back comfortably against him for support. My cheeks grew warm as he murmured something into my hair, his massive arm circling around me. His other hand gripped a spear, and I couldn’t deny the brutal, purely masculine eroticism of that image. The warmth in my cheeks travelled down my neck, then lower and lower.
Buroudei barked at the irkdu, and then we were off.
The journey took hours. At least, I assume it took hours. I had no way to properly tell. I was amazed Buroudei could keep track of where we were going. So much of the way was rolling, featureless sand. Buroudei kept his eyes trained ahead of us, his weapon always at the ready, but nothing seemed to stir in the sand around us.
Eventually a set of cliffs appeared to our right, and I yelped, recognizing them. Buroudei grunted in acknowledgement. Those were the cliffs where he’d first taken me. That meant we were getting close.
The happiness and excitement I’d felt at getting successfully back to the ship transformed into a sick bundle of nerves. My stomach twisted, and I ground my teeth in anticipation of what I’d find. I was not looking forward to seeing the bodies of my friends, especially if I couldn’t do anything for them. I had a feeling Buroudei wouldn’t stand around guarding me while I tried to bury a bunch of half-eaten humans.
A dark form was taking shape on the horizon. I sat up straighter, pointing and exclaiming, “There it is! We’re almost there.”
Buroudei did not respond, but urged his irkdu forward with a click of his tongue. We crossed the last stretch of sand in what felt like no time at all. I held my breath as we approached.
The carnage of the scene was still laid bare. Though, shockingly, I didn’t see the corpses of any of my friends. Instead, the sand was littered with the motionless bodies of the horrible crab monsters. Just seeing them, even lifeless, with their legs curled inward on themselves, was enough to make my skin crawl. Buroudei was sniffing the air, his head swinging back and forth as he surveyed the scene, spear half-raised. I didn’t speak, too afraid to make a sound. But after a moment, he seemed to relax, though only slightly, and we continued forward.
When we passed by one of the dead alien monsters, Buroudei leaned down and yanked a spear from its body, growling something to himself and securing it to his mount.
“I don’t see any of their bodies,” I whispered, more to myself than Buroudei. I wasn’t sure if that was giving me hope, or hinting at something even worse. Was it a good or bad sign that none of my friends were rotting out here? I had a good view into the bridge, and I saw the aftermath of the pilots and soldiers who had died there – scattered bones stripped clean of flesh, scraps of uniforms littering the floor. But that seemed to be limited to the initial attack area. I didn’t see any more human gore out here, and something had obviously killed all the crab monsters. A flicker of painful hope came to life inside me.
Maybe they’re all still alive out there.
I hadn’t been told anything about how many aliens like Buroudei there were on this planet. I had no idea if there were other groups out there, or even other kinds of aliens, that could have rescued my friends. But for now, I was choosing to believe that they were still around. Somewhere. Someway.