Page 59 of Feast

Powerful arms coiled more tightly around her. Scratchy stubble and soft lips brushed at her ear, raising goosebumps even in this unlikely situation.

And Slaine’s pelvis started to move.

The ukkur rocked his hips, sliding the length of his hard meat along the groove of Ika’s butt with increasingly long and forceful strokes.

“Slaine!” she cried, but her voice sounded muffled inside the abolith. “Slaine, what are you doing?”

The ukkur grunted again and redoubled his humping.

Ika should have been angry at him. Yet there was something in his movements—an awkward jerkiness to each thrust—that suggested Slaine’s hips and pelvis were not entirely under his control. The humping motion was some kind of instinct, a reflex that perhaps even Slaine did not understand.

And to her great shame, Ika found her own body reacting in unexpected ways too.

Though she was no longer cold, her nipples were now as hard as two granules of ice. Her other nub was affected too. The one between her legs. It was as hard as a little pearl at the top of her slit.

Slaine’s fingers moved to her crotch and touched her there.

“No,” Ika gasped. “Not here, Slaine. Please…”

The ukkur ignored her. Perhaps he did not understand. Or perhaps he simply could not control his strange urges. Gods knew, Ika was having trouble enough keeping her own urges in check. She didn’t know how much more rubbing she could handle before she finally caved.

But what were these urges? This weird need to rub and to be rubbed.

Ika did not understand.

She only knew that the hot, bloody insides of a dead abolith were no place to be doing whatever it was that they were doing.

Still, Ika couldn’t seem to help herself. As Slaine’s fingertips swirled harder and harder around her tingling nubbin, Ika’s hips began to swivel and gyrate of the own volition, grinding her soft butt against the ukkur’s hard pole.

An accidental shift, and that hard member slipped between her thighs. Its hot, throbbing length glided against Ika’s slit.

“Oh gods…”

Slaine pumped harder and faster, running his erection through the gap between Ika’s thighs. She found her legs spreading wider, as wide as the confines of the abolith’s guts would allow. Her inner folds were exposed, and the top of Slaine’s shaft dragged against her tight hole, which was now spilling its arousal in shameful abundance.

They were so close now. On the verge of some epiphany.

How does this work? What are we supposed to do?

Slaine’s breath tickled her, raising goosebumps on top of goosebumps. His tongue traced the convolutions of her ear. He growled and nipped at her like a wild animal. And through it all, those taut, powerful hips kept rolling, stroking his arousal against hers.

How? What?

Ika’s hole opened slightly, and the tip of Slaine’s member snagged at her rim. For one heart-stopping moment, Ika thought that long, thick meat might penetrate her there.

But the hole was too small and too slippery.

Slaine’s pole glanced away.

A jolt of arousal shot through her, like the stroke of a feather tickling her insides. Ika mewled and shuddered and felt the inner walls of her hole flutter with fear and need.

Images flashed through Ika’s mind, quick and random.

Gunnar’s finger probing her hole.

Thusar’s cock pumping her mouth.

The way her hole bled with the moon. Red blood. Ukkur blood.