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I keep myself busy stitching fur clothing together. With a few stitches, two pelts attached at the front and the side can make a skirt, and a poncho is another obvious choice that doesn’t require much skill. All the pelts that we’re not using for blankets or bedding get made into janky clothing, and R’jaal reassures me that no one is going to mind that they’re being used. He gives me one of the boots he found inside, and I study it, trying to replicate it so the others have something to wear on their feet. If nothing else, maybe I can make a mitten for feet. A foot-mitten. A fitten.
When Noj’me watches the front entrance, R’jaal watches the back of the cave, running his hands over the rock walls and looking for cracks or hidden passages. I should probably sleep while he’s on watch, as it’s getting late and we’re leaving in the morning. I can’t sleep, though. Maybe it’s the constant purring in my chest keeping me awake. Maybe it’s his nearness. Maybe it’s that the world gets stranger and stranger by the day. Whatever it is, I sew and watch him in silence, as if I’m holding watch along with him.
I wonder if he’s even slept for a moment since we met. It feels like he’s been on constant alert, protecting me at all times. A surge of emotion moves over me. I haven’t been nearly as freaked out as I should be over the whole “alien abduction” thing because he’s been there to encourage me and adore me every step of the way. He’s made this an adventure, even if it hasn’t been a particularly good situation at times…being with him has been magical every moment. He’s encouraged my inner wild woman and hasn’t made me feel like my intense hunger for him is strange or unnatural at all. He doesn’t make me feel like we’re moving too fast, or that anything about this is odd.
R’jaal makes it all feel…right. Like it’s supposed to happen this way.
So when Tal’nef moves to his side and taps him on the arm to let him know that it’s time to switch out, he immediately smiles at me. It’s like a burst of sunshine right into my soul, and I smile back, patting the pile of skins that I’ve staked out at the back of the cave. I put away the last of my sewing and slip under the furs, glancing over at the others in the cave. Tia is curled up near Rem’eb, who has blankets tossed over his seated form and dozes upright. By the fire, Noj’me sleeps and Set’nef is guarding the front of the cave. All is quiet. Peaceful. Perfect.
My chest purrs loudly the moment he settles into the furs next to me. I’m no longer thinking about sleep. I’m thinking about R’jaal, and touching him, and making him feel good.
“You should sleep,” he whispers as he pulls me against his chest, stroking my tangled hair. “You will need your strength tomorrow.”
“I will. I was waiting for you.” I slide my hand over his chest. He’s warm and delicious, and I can’t stop touching that compelling, velvety-suede skin of his. “Tired?”
“I can stand guard again if needed. I will do what I must. I can rest when we are safely back at camp.” He rubs my arm. “Are you warm enough?”
“I think so.” I slide my hand under his kilt and caress the inside of his thigh. “Do you think my fingers are warm enough?”
His breath quickens, his hands clenching me against him tighter. “R’slind…”
I trail them higher up his leg, heading for the cock I already know is aching and stiff. “Too tired to let me touch you?”
R’jaal glances around, as if checking to make sure no others are nearby watching us. Tal’nef faces away from us, and we’re in the shadows. As long as we’re quiet, no one’s going to notice a thing…which is exactly my plan.
“Be nice and quiet for me,” I whisper. “You wouldn’t want to deprive me of exploring the person I’m resonating to, would you?”
He’s silent, but his chest rumbles louder than ever. The look in his eyes tells me that no, he definitely does not want to deprive me of anything.
I lean in and press a kiss to his pectoral, even as my seeking hand finds his cock and I wrap my fingers around him. He’s deliciously hot to the touch, his skin even more velvety on his cock than the rest of his body. R’jaal is thick and hard, and when I skim my fingers over the head, I’m not surprised to find it wet with pre-cum. I wrap my fingers around him again and stroke, making sure to give a little extra love and wrist motion to the tip as I work him with my hand.
