Chapter 14 - Bea
It turns out, getting eaten out is fucking amazing.
Feeling Zyntarr’s warm, wet tongue exploring me… there? Feeling his hot, panted breath between my thighs? Looking over my shoulder to see him fisting his cock while I ride his face? That feeling when he tried lightly sucking on my clit?
Sublime.
Showstopping.
Leg-shakingly satisfying.
Someone needs to alert the masses to this bone-achingly wonderful thing I’ve just now discovered.
I look out at all the little Trixikka boys gathered around for their lessons.
Maybe not these masses. That would be highly inappropriate.
But my eyes can’t help wandering to the man who is currently carrying a huge boulder like it weighs nothing at all.
Zyntarr balances the sizable chunk of stone on one shoulder, his arm reaching up and curling around the thing for stability.
Woo, boy! Look at the way that bicep bulges!
‘Horny Bea’ needs to go splash some cold water on her face or something, I think to myself as I clear my throat and try to look anywhere except at that delicious man.
“Ah, thank you, Zyntarr,” one of the Elders comments. “You can place it down here.”
Zyntarr does as he’s asked, hefting the massive rock off his shoulder and onto the ground, not before double-checking none of the little Trixikka boys were too close to get hurt in the process.
The boulder is so heavy, the base of it instantly buries itself into the sandy ground.
I blink at the thing, and then up to Zyntarr.
I bet he carved that right out of the mountain himself.
“Today, we are to learn about our lifestones,” the Elder continues, this time to the boys gathered around, their little wings and tails all twitchy with either anticipation or boredom, I can’t quite tell which.
“The tools-” the older Trixikka jerks his chin at Zyntarr, who in turn just grunts in agreement and goes to fetch the tools needed for this lesson.
When he returns, he has a hammer and chisel and waits for the Elder to give him the nod to proceed.
Has men using tools always been a turn on?
Or is it just because it’s Zyntarr using them?
I don’t really know. All I’m aware of is the way his forearm flexes as he places the chisel where he needs it, and at how easily he brings the hammer down in a single strike that cracks the huge rock open, a canyon-like split running right through the middle.
And then -get this- he angles his fingers into the crack he’s made, and rips the boulder open the rest of the way… with his bare hands.
I mean… It’s positively pornographic.
“Miss Bea? Why is your face so red?” Tyll asks from his seat right beside me, and oh, my God, I think I might die from embarrassment.
Quickly, I shake my head to give Horny Bea a good rattle around up there, and clear my throat.
I even wipe at the corner of my mouth with my wrist. Had I been drooling?
No. Not actually, but the act only served to remind me that I need to stick to clean thoughts and get my act together in public when it comes to Zyn showing off and being all sexy.
I cast another glance his way. He’s knelt down over the now-split boulder with that chisel and hammer, showing some of the older younglings how to find and extract the pretty lifestones we use for light.
Big guy probably doesn’t even realize he’s being so sexy, and here I am objectifying the hell out of him.
“Uh,” I start, smiling down at Tyll. “Shall we go see what everyone’s doing with that rock?
Maybe you could find some lifestone of your own?
” I say, urging him forward. He’s one of the smallest boys of the group though, and struggles to be noticed sometimes.
The older ones huddle in a tight formation around where Zyntarr is explaining the best methods for extracting the life-stones without cracking them, and poor Tyll flits from gap to gap, trying and failing to push his way in so he can see.
“You should all try to master this skill yourselves this session,” Zyn says, straightening from his explanation. “Who is to be first to try?”
There’s a chorus of ‘me! me! me!’ as some of the little Trixikka younglings try to jump up and snatch the hammer and chisel straight from Zyntarr’s hands.
“Patience,” the big guy grunts, lifting the tools higher, out of the young boys’ reach. He casts a look around at all the eager faces surrounding him and spots little Tyll having been practically shoved out the way by the others. “Tyll,” he says, beckoning him forward. “You will strike first.”
I can’t help the smile that forms when I see the little boy excitedly push his way through his peers to get to take his turn.
Zyn crouches again, one of his big, black wings extending to bring little Tyll in closer, shielding him from the other boys who were voicing their displeasure about the youngest being picked to go first. I can’t quite hear Zyntarr’s words, but his voice murmurs soft and low, repeating his instructions to Tyll on how to properly handle the tools and what to look out for in the rock-half laid before them.
He hands the chisel and hammer over, gently correcting him when his hold is all wrong.
I can barely look away from the sight of this giant of man being so tender and gentle with the little boy, covering over his tiny hand with his own massive mitt when Tyll makes the first strike through fear that the little guy is going to miss and smack himself.
The scene itself makes me feel a little…
I don’t know… warm and fuzzy inside, but also a little feral too, like I need to go gnaw on something to calm down.
My face is red again, I just know it. I press my palms to my cheeks and quickly glance around self-consciously.
It’s only a cursory look - a quick check to make sure no one has noticed that I’m so obviously becoming utterly obsessed with this man.
But my eyes snag on a set staring right back at me from across the youngling’s lesson.
It’s another Trixikka, which isn’t strange. There’s plenty of them, and they often stare at us women. But this guy - Zuul or Zole I think his name is - his staring feels different.
As the lesson progresses, Tyll manages to carve out two large chunks of glowing life-stone and is pretty pleased with himself. “Do you think I could give one of them as an offering to the Temple?” he asks Zyntarr.
I watch the big man snort and shake his head with affection, ruffling the little boy’s hair before saying, “I think you should keep them until you are of age, Tyll. With your natural stone carving skills, you will have a whole hoard of life-stones to offer.”
There’s some murmuring among the other Trixikka boys and I hear a few of the older ones gripe to each other about how life-stone carving isn’t as important as fighting skills.
They’re just feeling sour because they managed to chip their stones with their chisels, shattering the glowing rocks into tiny pieces instead of the two impressively sized ones that Tyll managed to prize from the boulder.
I’m about to step in to try and redirect those sore attitudes to trying again, explaining that even though they all want to be the big, strong Protectors when they grow up, the tribe won’t thrive without the Gatherers, Craftsmen, Hunters, Carers, Healers.
Not all their lessons need to be on fighting techniques.
But I’m stopped in my tracks when I witness Tyll squeal, dropping his hammer and chisel to run toward the Trixikka who had continued to stand there staring at me throughout the whole lesson. “Father! You are here!”
Father?
Zuul or Zole, or whatever it must be, is Tyll’s biological dad?
The male doesn’t crouch down to be at Tyll’s height when he scampers excitedly up to him.
He doesn’t even smile in the boy’s direction.
I shouldn’t be surprised to see that kind of indifference from a Protector, but I always am.
Those guys are basically just sperm donors who get the honor of being called a father.
I learnt that once the Temple graces these guys with an actual child, they have a choice; become a Carer to raise the boy themselves, or continue to be a Protector - the ones that spend a lot of time patrolling the jungle and the skies.
And Tyll’s dad decided to remain as a Protector.
It’s not lost on me that the way my heart sinks for little Tyll and all the other boys whose fathers chose their prestigious standing in the tribe over parenting them is kind of hypocritical.
I gave my daughter away after all. But… well, they offered up their ‘seed’ to the Temple, knowing what might come of it - hoping for it, actually.
All for them to just ignore the child excitedly running up to them?
The male catches me watching him - in truth, he’s been staring at me the whole time, and I’ve only thrown him glances up until now. He smiles at me, a white toothed grin like he’d just won a prize now that he has my attention.
And then he just completely ignores his son in favor of swaggering over to me, his long tail swishing back and forth behind him.
It’s then that I see the glints of gold - the ‘daughter bands’ that the Trixikka wear to honor the female children they supposedly have that are being kept safe inside the Temple. This guy has five.
He really wanted the status that comes with having fathered children.
I avert my eyes from his as he approaches, only to see little Tyll trying to keep up with his father’s long strides. “And then, I actually got my own life-stone out, all my by myself!” I hear the little boy say, desperate for his father’s acknowledgement.
“Bea,” the male grins down at me. “I am Zuul,” he says, holding out his hand with the palm facing upward.