Chapter 13
Ekkire
I struggled not to grab my cock again and shove the misbehaving member back into its pouch.
That would be painful, but it was what a naga female would expect of me.
I had no idea how inflaming mouth-mating, a kiss, was going to be.
That made me feel like an idiot, because it was in the name: mouth-mating.
It implied some very primal things. Things I wanted to do again and again.
Jasmine lay out on the furs beneath me, her silky skin all mine to touch, and all of her secret places mine to taste.
To fill, to seed. Agh… damn it, my cock was never going to go down if I kept thinking things like this.
She looked too delectable, and so mine I struggled not to stake my claim even further.
My seed covered her bare belly in ropes of white, more of it than I’d ever come before.
My scent filled the air, covering hers, and that made me feel a very primal sort of satisfaction.
No male would think she was unclaimed now.
“Wash, uhm, at least wipe it off so I don’t get cold?
I assume we must preserve our water for now?
” Jasmine’s quiet voice drew me from the primitive thoughts running through my brain.
Cold? I looked down, saw the sight of my seed painting her flesh, and my cock twitched again, another spurt bursting from the tip with a rush of pleasure.
Groaning, I turned away so the sight wouldn’t further tempt me.
“We can spare some water,” I told her, even though I wasn’t sure of it.
She didn’t want to keep my seed on her and remain uncomfortable, and it was my duty to take care of her.
I gathered the waterskin and a piece of cloth to clean her with.
When I turned back, I was struck anew by the sight of her and shuddered. Ah, stars, she was so beautiful.
“I can do it,” she said, reaching for the cloth I’d carefully dribbled water on.
I yanked it back, holding it high enough that she could not reach it.
No, this was my task, my seed, and my female.
I was doing this. She didn’t ask again, relaxing against the fur as I lowered the cloth to wipe the stickiness from her skin.
“How come you have these colored spots, little hunter?” I asked her as I gently cleaned her skin.
Her belly was a soft, creamy white, but on the left side, dark blue and, in places, red or black mottled her flesh.
“I do not believe I’ve seen other humans with spots like this.
” I focused on the spots, not the way she felt beneath my fingers, or how she seemed all heat and softness at my touch—trusting me to take care of her, rather than biting and bristling in defense.
She blinked at me like I’d said something very confusing, then glanced down at where I was wiping her skin. She swallowed audibly, her small, round tongue darting out to wet her lips. My cock responded to that too, though I didn’t know why—only that it looked so tempting.
“Uhm, those spots are bruises, Ekkire. They’re from the earthquake.
They’ll heal. I’m black and blue like that all over.
” She said it very casually, almost like an afterthought, as if something else distracted her.
A quiet horror settled in me, though, and finally the impossible desire still raging through me began to ebb.
I glanced at her hip and then at the many black-and-blue smudges that decorated her left side and both arms. I recalled the image of how she’d stripped the other night by the fire, too.
How those discolorations had marked her legs, thighs, and shins.
Those were injuries? How was she even moving?
She had already been so badly injured and never said a word, never uttered a complaint!
I knew what a bruise felt like, damn it, because naga bruised too, we just didn’t discolor from it.
At least not in a visible way, as our scales covered any marks.
“Jasmine…” It was a moan that slipped from my mouth.
I might have my raging body back under control thanks to this revelation, but it didn’t feel good.
I’d let her walk back alone while she was hurt.
“Why didn’t you say something? I could have…
we shouldn’t have…” Oh, this female, she made me a mess inside.
I’d always been bad with words, but around her, I was abysmal.
Her mouth quirked into a smile that was so soft and sweet I felt like I didn’t deserve it.
“Hey, Ekkire, I could have said so, but I didn’t, and you didn’t know.
Besides, it’s not serious, just sore. I’ve had worse.
” Had worse? I reared back, horrified, and that made her raise a hand to her mouth and smother a laugh.
Was that supposed to make me feel better?
“Sorry, what I mean is, I’m a tough girl.
I didn’t say anything because I could handle it.
I’m fine! Come on, let’s get this sorted so we can move.
We need to find a way back to the surface so we can rescue your Sun Fang friends.
” By the sacred streams and lakes; she still thought we could help those at the outpost?
I began to shake my head, intending to tell her that the only thing we were doing was finding our way back to the sky wreck.
Then I snapped my mouth shut and considered this.
She was a warrior, an archer with skills that rivaled those of Sun Fang, and they were the best archers around.
If Zeidon told me he was fine, I would believe him in a heartbeat.
Jasmine was asking me to do the same, to believe that she had judged her physical injuries correctly and knew her own strengths.
I hated it, so much, but I lowered myself onto my coils and nodded.
“Yes,” I agreed, the word snapping out of me with a snarl.
“We must find our way out as soon as possible.” I left it at that.
My mouth set in a grim line as I finished cleaning the last of my seed from her flesh.
Not so covered by mine, her own essence perfumed the air between us, tempting me to fall back into the powerful passion she’d evoked with her kiss.
I reminded myself firmly of her injuries, her broken leg being the worst. No, I would not touch her again until she invited me.
Jasmine was terrible at sitting on the fur while I packed what supplies we had back into my backpack and checked the snares she’d somehow set out last night.
She ate with a mutinous look on her face, feeding bits of meat to Dove, who fluttered around her feet with excited chirps.
Clean, she’d pulled her shirt and fur coat back on, but she still looked uncomfortable.
No wonder, even her backside had been covered by the dark marks.
Bruises. I was fuming inside with the knowledge.
At least the sleep had restored my head to clarity and taken care of my bruised tail from the fall.
“How long does it take for those bruises to heal? And the leg, how long does it take a broken bone to heal?” I demanded as I handed her Dove after the sleara had tried to get into my backpack a third time.
The little animal chirped like she actually enjoyed being held, rubbing her head against my finger, and then all over Jasmine.
“Ah, the bruises take a week, probably a couple when they’re this black. The leg? At least six weeks, if nothing goes wrong.” Six weeks. Weeks. I needed to find her a Shaman, fast. I was not leaving her in that kind of pain for so long!
She protested vehemently when I picked her up, but at least she was practical enough to know we’d move much faster if I carried her.
“Fine, but no coddling, Ekkire. I’m fine.
” She was not fine, and after an hour of following my nose through the tunnels of this ancient cave, she knew it too.
Her leg hurt, and even though I was very careful, moving simply wasn’t good for her.
Sometimes I had to climb over debris, or the tunnel got so narrow we could only slip through it sideways. Those moments were tough.
A sheen of sweat clung to her brow, and the back of her neck was clammy too.
Her mouth twisted into a fierce grimace, and her cheeks filled with a tinge of red.
She was in pain, and she was struggling to mask it.
“There’s nothing we can do about it,” she told me.
“Just keep going. I think there’s a bit of light up ahead. ”
We’d discussed our direction at each crossing carefully, debating our options before making a choice.
I knew these types of tunnels, their basic layout.
She brought interesting insights, such as the freshness of a scent, the breeze or lack thereof, and more.
She was not wrong now, either; a sliver of light did appear to come from up ahead. We might have found our way out.
“You could chew some more Hura bark,” I suggested, and with my tail, I carefully pulled open the drawstring on the pouch I’d secured to my belt.
I offered her a strip, and though she frowned, she took it.
Dove had curled in her arms and now lifted her nose in the air as if she wanted to taste the bark.
The sleara had an unhealthy obsession with anything stick-like.
Nearly a dozen of her twigs hung in a bundle from the side of my backpack, just for her.
She wasn’t getting this bit of bark, though.
With a laugh, Jasmine warned her away and quickly stuck the strip in her mouth.
“Sorry,” she said, her cheek bulging. “That’s not safe for you.
Find some other stick to claim.” The sleara fluttered off like she planned to do just that, screeching her distinct chirp kee kee sound as she did so.