I laugh, because he always knows how to bring my mood back from the brink. “Then let us go find my howse and kick Farli out.”
He grins at me, surprisingly boyish, and then grabs my hand. “Come, let us hurry.”
We race forward—as much as one can race in the thick snows—and when we get to the edge of the gorge, we both hurry down the rope ladder with great speed. At the bottom of the gorge, it immediately feels warmer out of the wind, and my face feels flushed. Perhaps it is because I am thinking about mating.
A great, great deal of mating.
We race through the canyon, heading for the vee-lage. The snow is nonexistent down here, and we can run as fast as we please. It seems like it only takes moments before the rock path turns to neat stones and the vee-lage comes into sight. In the distance, I see people walking between howses, and two humans are talking in front of the long-howse. Curls of smoke rise from several teepees, and I catch sight of a familiar human with a rounded pregnant belly as she walks with Tee-fah-ni, both of them carrying baskets full of dirtbeak nests. Claire sees me as well and raises a hand in greeting, her face lighting up.
I pause, wondering if I should stop and speak to her.
“There is no smoke coming from your howse,” my mate reminds me. He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Unless you have changed your mind?”
I look over at him, at the simple love and understanding on his face. He is the best of males, my mate. “Oh, I have not changed my mind,” I tell him with a grin. I grab the front of his tunic and pull him toward my howse on the outskirts of the vee-lage. I glance over at Claire, and she has a hand to her mouth, hiding her laughter. She understands.
There is no explaining what needs to be done. I feel light and free, and I laugh as I drag my mate into my howse. Farli is not inside, and the fire is cold. Good. We are to have our time alone, and this makes me happy. I pull Hemalo inside and then push the privacy screen over the entrance, shutting us away from the world.
“Do you need a fire?” Hemalo asks, moving toward the fire pit. He shrugs off his pack and glances over at me.
I do not need anything but him. I grab him by the front of his tunic again and press my mouth to his in a quick, fierce kiss.
He groans, forgetting all about the fire, and his hands go to my face. He cups my cheeks, and our kiss grows deeper, more passionate. My khui begins to sing loudly, and his chest vibrates with a strong, urgent song. This feels good and right. I lick at his mouth, frantic for my mate. My tongue slicks along his, teasing and coaxing in a playful manner. My kiss is light and teasing, but the urgency in my body is anything but. Our khuis demand a mating, and they will get one.
I jerk at his leathers even as we kiss, tugging him toward my bed and the furs there. “I want you,” I tell him. “I want this. I want us. I want our kit.”
“I want all of that,” Hemalo says thickly. “I have waited forever to hear you say those words to me, my heart.”
I smile at him and undo the knots that hold his heavy overtunic closed. We are wearing so many layers it is frustrating to pull them off. I want my mate naked, his skin against mine. “So many clothes,” I mock-growl.
“Would it go faster if I took them off?” he asks.
It might, but that would deprive me of the joy of stripping him bare. I shake my head and tear at his leathers with determination. Off comes the outer layer. Off comes the furry vest. Off comes his leather tunic, and then his delicious, broad chest is bared to me. I make a noise of satisfaction, skimming my hands over his skin. How long has it been since I touched him? I want to put my mouth everywhere. I want to lick him in all of his warmest, softest spots and make him shiver. I love the power that I hold over him, and the intensity in his gaze as he watches me. I press my hands over his heart, where the protective plates are thickest, and I can feel his khui singing to mine. “I love this,” I tell him softly. “I did not dream it would happen for us again.”
“May it happen a dozen more times,” he whispers. “I will be glad of every one.”
I will, too. I kiss him again, mating my tongue to his, and I can feel my thighs quiver in response when the ridges of his tongue drag along mine. I undo the cords of his outer leggings, and then the ties of his inner ones. Instead of pushing them down his legs, I reach in and caress his thick cock, the head slick with thick, milky pre-cum. Hemalo groans into my mouth, shuddering at my touch. His hands go to my shoulders, and he holds me tight against him.
I stroke my hand along his length as I kiss him, and when my tongue plays along the length of his, I let my fingers glide up and down his shaft, then tease over his spur.
“This seems unfair,” Hemalo tells me between kisses. “You are covered in furs and yet you are able to put your hands all over me.”
“I am an unfair female,” I tease back, sliding my hand to the back of his leggings and dragging my finger under the base of his tail again. He shivers, and I grin. “What are you going to do about it?”
He gives me a challenging look, and then his hands go to the front of my outer tunic. He puts his hands on the knots, and then, to my surprise, rips the leather asunder. It falls off my body and pools on the floor, and he goes to work on my next layer, ripping and tearing at it. I gasp, though I do not stop him—this wild, fierce side of my calm mate is making my cunt pool with heat. “My leathers!”
“It is good for you that I am a tanner, then,” he rasps, and jerks the belt off of my tunic. Before he can rip it away, I pull it over my head. His hands go to my leggings, and he tears at them like a wild creature. I have never seen Hemalo this obsessed before. It is fascinating—and incredibly arousing. He drops to his knees before me and drags my leggings down my thighs, pressing his mouth to every bit of skin he can as he does so. I feel his tongue flick against my belly, my hip, my inner thigh…my cunt.
And I cannot help the gasp that escapes me.
“You are so wet,” he whispers against my thighs. “I can taste your juices dripping down your legs, my mate.”
“It is because my mate knows just where to touch me,” I tell him. I caress his horn and then run my fingers through his mane as he presses more kisses against the bare mound of my cunt. “Though he is taking far too long to undress me.”
He gives a mock-growl and picks me up by my legs, dragging me over to my bedding. His clothing is falling around his legs as well, and we stumble into the furs, falling together. He kicks at his leggings, and I do the same, because I want to be naked and feel his flesh against mine.
Then he surges forward, and the length of his body presses over mine, and I can feel all of him, from the hands that move to my mane, to the feet that brush against my own. His tail twines with mine, and I feel his knee nudge my thigh. I part my legs gladly for him and give a breathless sigh of pleasure when he settles his weight between my legs, his cock resting against my cunt. It is the most perfect feeling.
“My mate,” Hemalo murmurs as he kisses me. “My sweet Asha. I would wait forever for you.”
His words make my eyes prick with tears. “I do not want to wait any longer. I want…everything.”
“Then let me give it to you.” He kisses me again, resting his weight on his elbows. I feel his body shift and then the press of his cock against the entrance to my core. I raise my hips, encouraging him to enter me. To make me his.
He sinks deep in one swift movement that leaves both of us gasping. I can feel the thick length of him inside me, rubbing against the walls of my womb. His spur is nestled between my slick folds, coated with my juices, and the heat of him is breathtaking. It is perfect, the way he fits me. I did not realize how much I missed this until now, how full and complete I feel with him inside me. I give a sigh of pleasure and dig my nails into his shoulders. “This is where you belong.”