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Ashiver rushes down my spine making my cock bounce up and down, hitting her in the face again. I have never felt anything like that in my life. She is incredible. I want to grab her up and fuck her. Bury my cock in her pussy, maybe, if she’s willing, bend her over and fuck that full, heart-shaped ass, but then there are footsteps approaching.
Reality crashes in with a resounding crack. I’m standing here in front of her with my cock out and her on her knees. There is little doubt that Khiara is returning, and I know it will hurt him if he sees this. He likes her too and we have not yet talked to him about us. I cannot let him find out like this.
I bend to grab my pants but she’s moving at the same time and our heads collide into one another. I stumble back as we both yelp. The footsteps come closer, faster. He probably heard the sound and thinks something is wrong. I grab onto the hem of my pants and jerk them up, but they twist and stop part way.
Gada. Come on. Not like this.
I fumble with the fabric and manage to untwist it then jerk the pants into place. As the door opens I turn my back so I can fasten them hopefully without him noticing what I’m doing.
“Is everything—” Khiara cuts himself off mid-sentence.
I fasten my pants then turn around to face him. Embarrassment mixes with the sense of having been caught but I push all that down.
“It’s fine,” I growl. “We both moved at once and accidentally hit our heads together.”
Truth is always better than a lie. It may not be the whole truth, but it’s enough. His eyes narrow with suspicion as he looks between the two of us. He knows something more is up, but the question is will he ask?
I watch the thoughts play across his face. They are as easily readable to me as if they were written in stone. He suspects, but he doesn’t know, and that leaves him room to lie to himself. He doesn’t want to know the truth because then he would have to confront that she is not meant for him.
Soon I will have to confront him about her. Us. Right now, though, there is too much at stake for distractions. Khiara comes to the same conclusion, grunting and shaking his head.
“The meeting is on,” he says. “Come.”
He turns his back on us and walks back to the door. Gweneth is pale. She looks at me mouthing something I don’t catch, but I don’t need to. She’s confused and worried, both of which I understand. I shake my head and motion for her to follow him.
She frowns then nods and falls in and follows him back into the streets. I come in behind her, not missing the chance to admire her ass. It is a really, really good ass. Any Urr’ki female would be proud of such an ass.
The streets are filling up with vagrants. Lost souls grouping together in angry protest against the arrest that just happened. It’s good cover for a meeting but it’s also dangerous. The Maulavi could have plants in the crowds. Most likely they do. And as we’ve seen it only takes a spark for a crowd to become a mob.
I walk close to Gweneth and she is close to Khiara. We don’t have to go far before he turns into what is little more than a crevasse between two collapsing shelters. It’s so narrow he and I have to turn sideways to make our way through.
Halfway down the cramped walk he pulls a sheet of metal to one side and looks inside. He steps in first and Gwen and I follow. The dark inside is almost complete, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but I sense there are others waiting.
I grab Gweneth by the arm and pull her up against my chest, protectively hooking my arm around her. As my eyes accustom to the dimness I see there are four others in the room. One of them is clearly the leader as he stands in front of the others. Khiara walks right up to him and grunts.
“Welcome,” the leader says. “You can call me Punja.”
“Fine,” I say, shifting Gweneth to my side so she is further from the others than I am. “We are here. What is it you want?”
“Things are moving fast,” Punja says. “Faster than we were prepared for.”
“Did you attempt the Shaman’s life?” I ask.
Punja’s eyes narrow, clearly irked by my interruption, but he doesn’t react further. He meets my gaze with his own steadily. No looking away, no blinking.
“No,” he says, and I am certain he is not lying. Or that he’s the best liar I’ve ever seen. One or the other. “That was unexpected. And a problem.”
“A problem?” I ask.
“You think we want the Maulavi on high alert? The quake was problem enough, now they are not only trying to ramp up the sacrifices, but they’re rampaging through the City looking for spies and conspirators. We do not need this attention.”
I grunt understanding.
“Why the human? What do you need her or them for?”
One of the men with Punja growls, putting a hand on the club at his waist as he steps forward. I growl too and take a step towards him, meeting his unspoken challenge. Punja raises his hand, and the man stops.
“There is no time to further build our resistance,” Punja says. “We have been told the humans are willing to broker peace between the lizards and us.”
