Challenged (Mates for the Raskarrans #8)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Rardek

W e walk back to the fire. It is a short distance, and my brother spends it with his arm around his linasha, his tail around her waist. My own linasha stomps beside me in her heavy Mercenia boots, not the raskarran shoes Rachel found for her. The strange outer layer she wears rustles as she walks, hiding every enticing piece of her. I would put my arm and tail around her still, but she is splattered with rot.

“ Wudyoohelpmewithis ?” she says to Brooks, plucking at the noisy fabric. “ Carefulthoh. Doangettanyonyoo. ”

Brooks helps my Angie remove her outer layer with the kind of efficiency that says she has provided this aid to others before. Protective gear. That is what my Angie called it in the dreamspace. Clothing to keep you safe. I wonder why it also has to be so ugly and loud.

My Angie brushes herself down, running her hands over the human clothes she is wearing. Not as enticing as seeing her in raskarran clothing, but it makes little difference. I can still feel the warmth of her body next to mine, can picture the rapid rise and fall of her chest. I want to have her where I had her in the dreamspace again, and this time there will be no stopping to discuss anything except how she wants me to pleasure her. We may not have many words between us, but I am confident we can communicate about that.

“How long do you think it will take to prepare your pack, gather us food supplies, and find a tent?” I say to Maldek.

“Quicker if I had help,” Maldek says, but his eyes spark with amusement when I glance at him. “I should think I could make it take some time, but our chieftess did say to leave as soon as we can.”

“‘As soon as we can’ is not the same thing as ‘immediately’.”

“I do not think Liv would see mating with your linasha as a necessary reason for delay.”

“Fortunately for me, our chieftess is not here to give her opinion. What do you think?”

“I think it might be very difficult to find a tent,” he says, almost laughing now. “Most of them are being used right now, after all.”

I grin, grip his arm briefly, then head for my Angie. The hunger in my chest for her has grown to a roaring thing, a need that must be answered. Liv might not approve of my delaying, but she would not approve of my lack of focus if I left without indulging my desires first. Out of two scenarios where I look bad, I will take the one where I get to spend time between my linasha’s thighs.

“Oh!”

My Angie makes a startled sound as I sweep her up into my arms, but it is not one of protest, just surprise. Brooks laughs, gives my Angie a wave, then turns to find her mate.

“ Warewegoin ?” my Angie says, eyes narrowing.

The temptation to carry her up to her room, to lay her on her bed and settle my body over hers, kiss her until she is breathless, is overwhelming. But instead, I head down to the underground level of the Mercenia hut, entering the shower room.

“ Oookay,” my Angie says, staring at me warily now. “ Whadarrwedoininere?”

I set her down, then take her hand, running my fingers over her skin, looking for any hint of irritation. The ichor was thickest on her where she plunged her arms into the rot, the rest of her only slightly splattered. If there is anywhere that it soaked through, touched her delicate skin, it will be on her hands and arms.

“Looks clean,” I say, miming scratching, then giving her a questioning look.

“ Notichy, no, ” she says, shaking her head.

“Still, we should give your hands a good scrub, just to be certain.”

I draw her over to the shower area, grabbing the bowl of geberren root on the way. Standing her out of the way of the spray of the water, I press on the wall to turn the shower on, then lather up the geberren root in my hands.

“This will make sure none of the ichor remains,” I say, taking her arm and working the lather into her skin. I am careful, thorough, being sure to clean every part of her arms and hands where it might have splashed. When I am certain that no ichor could possibly remain on her skin, I draw her a little closer to the spray, rinsing away the geberren root. Her skin feels so delicate under my hands. I linger a little longer than necessary, tracing my fingers over it, appeasing the hunger for now.

When the water shuts off, I stop, grabbing one of the drying pelts and bringing it to her. Once she is dried, I inspect her one last time, searching for any hint of redness. There is none. Her coverings did the trick, or we have washed away the ichor in time.

“No irritation. I think you are spared the itching discomfort I suffered.”

I glance at her, find her staring at me, lips parted, her expression soft, colour blooming in her cheeks and down her throat. Her eyes look darker than usual, her pupils blown wide, and they are fixed on my mouth. The hunger in me roars, and I do not think I am mistaken to think I hear her own hunger responding.

I grin at her.

“My Angie,” I say, leaning close to her. “My little flame.”

Her next breath shudders into her lungs, her pulse fluttering in her throat. I want to press my lips to it, to taste her skin.

Her expression hardens, her next breath stronger. But just as I think she is going to pull away from me, her arms go around my neck, her body presses close, and her lips almost slam against mine.

I have seen plenty of the gentle kisses my sisters share with their mates, and my Angie’s kiss is nothing like them. It is hard, demanding. She leads me and I am powerless but to follow wherever it is she wishes me to go. Soon we are breathless, panting, my lips bruised and swollen by her affections. Her hands are in my hair, pulling again. Not quite with the force she used when she tried to pull it right off my head, but with enough for it to sting a little. And I love it. My cock strains against my leathers, my whole body aching with need to be rid of the clothing between us.

But as my fingers close around the hem of her top, tugging it upwards, she stops abruptly, grabbing my hand and glancing at the door.

“ Enywuncudcuminere ,” she hisses, and though I do not understand her words, I know what her complaint is. Humans are curiously shy about their bodies. They do not like to be seen naked. To be seen naked and being mated must be worse.

A good male would take his female somewhere private, would immediately take her to his room, where she would be comfortable to receive his pleasure. But my thoughts run in a different direction. I find I want to know how undone she would have to be to take pleasure from me here. In this room where anyone might walk in.

I think she must see something in my eyes, because her brows furrow, her eyes narrowing as she looks up at me. This little taste of her ferocity only makes my cock throb harder and before she can say another thing, I kiss her again, taking control this time. I kiss her so thoroughly, there is nothing she can do but kiss me back, my tongue dancing with hers as my hands roam all over her body. She is not too thin like so many of her other sisters were, my questing palms finding only curves and softness beneath them. So lush. I want to taste every part of her.

I lift her up into my arms, carrying her from the shower area to the place between the two rows of cabinets. The place where she hid and spied on me in the shower what feels already like a lifetime ago.

“Do you remember that moment as vividly as I do?” I murmur into her ear as I set her down, caging her in with my body. “A poor unsuspecting male, just trying to get a wash, and a wicked female looking on, planning her attack.”

She does not understand my words, but I infuse them with a heat that she does. Colour rises in her cheeks, creeping up her chest into her neck. She looks at me with pupils blown wide, dark eyes made even darker. I lean close, nip lightly at her earlobe before pressing my face to the crook of her neck.

“Did you like the view?” I say, grazing my fangs across the place where her pulse races. “Did the sight of my backside have you pressing your thighs together to contain the want?”

I trail a finger up the inside of her thigh. A place she is particularly sensitive if I judged our time in the dreamspace correctly.

She whimpers, her eyes fluttering shut. It is confirmation enough for me.

“You are going to be so well pleasured, my Angie.” I nip at her skin, soothing the spot afterwards with my lips and tongue. “This is going to be the first of many, many times I have you screaming my name.”

I raise my hand to her waistband, tug it open. My Angie gasps, but she does not open her eyes. Only arches her hips slightly closer to me. Satisfaction roars louder than the hunger. I have made her forget everything but my touch and the strongest pride I have ever felt fills my chest.

“Perfect,” I say against her lips before kissing her, and sliding my hand beneath her clothes, down between her thighs.

She gasps into my mouth as my fingers glide through her folds, her hips pressing closer to me again, greedy for my touch. I use my other hand to grip the back of her head, sinking my fingers into her hair and tilting her back so I can plunder her mouth. Her hands grip my vest before sliding up around my neck.

So much slick has already gathered beneath my fingers, her desire for me plain. I want to draw my hand back, taste her, but I resist for now, sliding my fingers over her cunt. Learning the shape of her, and what touches make her moan. My brothers have spoken much of the place at the peak of a human female’s cunt that gives them the most pleasure. I seek it out now, paying close attention to my Angie’s responses. I know when I have found it because she chokes back a cry.

“ Ohfuck ,” she moans as I begin to circle the spot, gently at first, but growing more firm with my touches, building her up.

Soon she is writhing beneath me, panting so hard I can no longer kiss her. I switch my attentions to her neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. She groans, hips bucking against my hand.

“ Sogud ,” she says. “ Sofuckingud .”

Her hands roam over my chest, my face, little palms hot, her whole body burning with pleasure. I kiss her jaw, her cheek, then claim her lips for a brief moment as I slide my fingers back through her folds, seeking her entrance. When I find it, I circle it once, twice, then plunge my finger deep.

My Angie cries out, and I swallow the sound with another searing kiss, pumping my finger into her, feeling the way her inner walls flutter and clench around me. She throws her head back, eyes closed as her hips jerk, riding my hand. I press the heel of my palm close to her pleasure spot, grinding against it, sliding a second finger inside her.

“Rardek,” she moans, her cunt gripping me tight. “ Ahmgonnacum. ”

Then she is crying out, her cunt pulsing through her climax. I keep pumping my fingers into her, drawing out the pleasure for as long as I can until she is gasping for breath, almost limp in my arms. Only then do I draw my fingers out of her, bring them up to my mouth and taste her.

Her eyes go wide with surprise as I do it, so I take my time, making sure to lick every last drop of her from my skin.

“Delicious,” I say. “I will have to taste you again.”

I step back from her, and she takes a moment to adjust herself, straightening her clothing and her hair. When she looks at me again, she is scowling.

“ Carntbeleeveahletyoodothatomehere ,” she says, though her irritation is rather undercut by the way her eyes rake over my body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. A deep pink flush still shines on her cheeks. The glow of a well pleasured female. It delights me to see it on her.

Then her eyes cut downwards to where my cock is bulging in my leathers. When she looks back up at me, she is chewing on her bottom lip, her breathing growing faster without any encouragement from my touch. My heartspace races in my chest, but I do not do anything. I do not want to push her any further than I already have.

She walks towards me. Every step she takes, my heartspace beats harder, until she is right next to me, her body pressed as close to mine as it can get without touching. Her eyes rise to meet mine, her gaze bold, unflinching. She continues to look at me, almost without blinking, as she presses her hand to my cock, brushing her hot palm down the length of it.

My eyes near roll into the back of my head at the pleasure she induces. I am wondering if she will let me tear off her clothes and mate with her right here when she grabs me by the hand and draws me after her, heading for the door. We make it to the end of the long, thin room before I drag her back into me, kissing her once more.

Together, we stumble upwards, my hands grabbing at her thighs, her backside. I cannot stop touching her, cannot deny myself the pleasure of her flesh beneath my palms. I think I have her right where I want her, almost ready to let me take her in this dark, cramped place. But then she reaches behind me, curling her fingers around the base of my tail and giving it a little tug.

A feral growl escapes me and she laughs, ducking out from under me and running upwards. Of course I catch up with her in a couple of bounding steps, and when she turns, intending to head up to her room, I grab her by the waist, carrying her out onto the ground level and into my room.

Any protest she might have at my manhandling her is soon swallowed by my kiss. She returns it with enthusiasm, her hands all over my body, pushing at my clothes, trying to get them out of her way so she can touch skin. I rip my vest over my head and shove my trousers down. She does the same, pausing only to undo her heavy Mercenia boots.

“ Fuckinorribelthings ,” she says as she throws them across the room.

Then she’s standing before me, only the tiny scrap of fabric covering her cunt remaining. She runs her fingers around the waistband of them before slowly lowering them down. When they pass the thickest point of her thighs, she lets go of them, allowing them to fall to the floor before delicately stepping out of them.

I reach for her, my headspace spinning with ideas for different ways I can show her pleasure. My cock is so hard it aches, but the image of her legs wrapped around my head as I taste her cunt is too tantalising to ignore. I will start there, I think. If it means waiting a while longer before Maldek and I set off - well, we will just have to run a little harder than we otherwise might have. He will not mind.

But before I can do anything, my Angie presses a palm flat to my chest. Pushes me down into my bed.