Page 24 of Bred By Sor'en

But he starts doing it again.

His upper half caught in the narrow doorway, his tongue just swiping at empty air. The bowl clatters to the ground loudly as I double over and cackle even louder. My footing slips, making me fall back onto my butt as he swipes for me with a long arm connected to a shoulder still straining in the doorway. But he reaches me this time. Long, slender fingers, tipped with claws that tickle my ankle jerk me toward the door. I screech as I’m pulled damn near into him, still blocking the exit. No sooner than I’m there, though, his milky eyes flutter, the amusement leaving me abruptly as he stumbles, this time fully falling to the ground in a heap of limbs and bone.

Something slices deep into my chest at the sight of him. Of the proud, calm, sauvé male who cares about his flowers, weakened like this. I quickly snag the bowl and the fallen, now bruised fruit off the ground, scooting it as close to the door as I can before I settle for scrambling over the top of Sor’en. “Hang on, I’ll fix this,” I promise him, and for the life of me, I don’t know what made the words leave my mouth. I can’t fix this.

I have no idea how.

I’m struggling to keep one promise I had already made.

He doesn’t protest as I clamber ungracefully over him, though, doesn’t make a sound, his breathing now labored from exhaustion as I settle myself in the curl of his animal form. Like a huge Earth horse if the horse were made of obsidian flesh and bone. I curse under my breath, remembering the bowl of fruit. Sor’en doesn’t react as I scramble my way underneath his long neck, lifting just enough for me to maneuver on all fours to drag the bowl to us.

It's not until something hot and wet tickles my inner thigh that I squeal, shooting up so fast I knock my head off one of his elongated bones. Plain flares on my scalp, my hands going up to check for bleeding. There is none, but he does it again. I gasp, fighting to jerk my dress back down when I’m suddenly shoved to my chest in the long grass, a low, eerie reverberating growl sounding as Sor’en nestles his face between my legs. It vibrates the skin there, making me jerk.

My cheeks flush crimson, my long red hair hiding my face as my core pulses underneath his hot breath. “Sor’en, stop,” I whisper.

But he doesn’t and… I’m not sure what's happening, but I’m almost entirely sure I don’t want him to.

When that long, hot tongue dances across my opening, I buck forward at the sudden onslaught of sensation, only for another growl to sound from behind and a sharp, clawed hand to force me harder into the ground. My fingers flex as they dig into the grass, feeling each blade as he presses me harder in warning.

His message is clear.

Don’t move.

And I don’t.

What happens next is… agonizing, but in the best way.

It’s sensation and tension and stars bursting behind my eyes.

Because Sor’en licks…

A sharp cry escapes my throat as his tongue laps up toward that tiny bundle of nerves and circles it, latching on. Something deep and large vibrates, but I’m beyond hearing it. Beyond caring what, or why, or where. I bare back tighter against him and try to pull away, all at once, my body a flurry of feeling. The ground underneath me suddenly rough on my flushed skin. Some part of his odd new form pressed against my pebbled breasts. Pointed claws prick my flesh through the garment while he holds me down, feasting on my center. When the tip of his tongue finally releases my tiny bundle, I collapse, screaming into the ground, allowing him to keep my hips up and legs splayed wide. My own moans turn guttural and whining, sounding so strange to my own ears as he prods my opening with his tongue lapping and pressing, before baking out and trying again. Kissing and sucking somewhere nobody has ever been before. Somewhere I’m certain nobody will ever be again.

Something hot and wild builds deep in my stomach, low and terrifying.

I try to scramble away from the rising tightness deep in my core, but his answering growl explodes on my aching, wet center.

I scream as sensation rips through me, light bursting behind my eyes. My entire body shuddering with the force of something I’m not even sure I can name. He keeps me there for a few more lingering moments, that buzzing increasing with each lap of his tongue, savoring the taste of me. My hands are trembling, and my face is flushed, chest heaving by the time he finally lets me up.

My mind is numb, chest still heaving, and there are butterflies lodged so deep in my stomach I’ll never be rid of them as I settle in against Sor’en-not-Sor’en and blindingly reach for the bowl of bruised fruit.

thirteen

Sor’en

My mate smells of yur’pala sap andme. Sickly sweet, rich sap elders get drunk on and heady florals that can only come from a botanist. It’s an intoxicating mixture, almost strong enough to make me ignore the agonizing ache in my bones for a while more. Hue is awake, she has been glaring at me for nearly the entire time I’ve lain here in the grass, tangled around her, pretending to still be asleep.

I changed forms…

It is a most unseemly affair. Two males being so close to my unbonded mate in such a small frame of time had twisted my mind into something wretched. It is seldom a Xyrelith takes on their dark form… even rarer do they come back from it without a blaster shot lodged in their skulls. My mate has saved me, saved many today.

My brave, perfect mate.

I bite back a groan, not because of the pain, which is immense, but because I can still taste her on my tongue. My odd little human is the sweetest thing I have ever consumed. Even in that barbaric form, it was not lost on me the way she surrendered. The way she bucked and spread even through her confusion, my mate opened for me. That will bode well for us during the vigil.

I open my eyes fully and am greeted by the pale, rich sky, deep purple and green clouds gathering to water my fields. Pheor'aya, Fam'ora, no doubt looking down on their most interesting play toy with humor and dread. My eyes find my mate next, although I have been stealing glances for a while now. Her pretty greenish and golden eyes are twisted into a deep frown. The small, odd human body her soul inhabits is tight, but she leans on me, using me to support her insignificant weight. Her delicate, stubby arms crossed, hiding her breasts from me. It is said human younglings suckle from their mother's breasts. Xyrelith females do not have breasts like humans, but I imagine the toxin sharing is about the same.

“We need to talk,” she offers, not releasing me from her pretty disapproval.