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Hruk shook his head.
Hurt or not, the tiny little human was hiding something between her legs, and Hruk intended to find out what.
He dropped to his knees in front of the female, and with a growl he forced her legs open. She tried to resist, but her feeble human muscles were no match for his ukkur strength.
The female cried out.
Hruk grunted.
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking at, but it appeared to be some kind of wound. A deep vertical cut between the female’s legs where her piss stick and balls would be if she were an ukkur.
Had she been wounded during the fight with the nith? Hruk didn’t think so. He would have noticed, but—
Before he could get a good look at what was going on between the female’s spread thighs, both of her tiny hands shot downward, hiding the pink cut from the ukkur’s gaze.
“Me no hurt,” she breathed. “Me no hurt…”
A low, rolling growl started in Hruk’s chest, gradually growing louder.
“Move your hands, human.”
“Me no hurt. No—“
“Move. Your. Hands.”
The female swallowed hard. Her eyes remained locked on Hruk’s. The blush in her cheeks deepened yet another shade. With a slow, trembling motion, she drew hands away from her apex, revealing her secret.
Now Hruk could get a good look at her.
He bent closer, examining her strange, alien anatomy.
For that’s clearly what this was. Hruk had taken it to be a wound before, but he had been mistaken. There was no blood. And besides, if it had been a wound, the little human wouldn’t have been rubbing it so furiously when Hruk arrived.
But what the hell was it?
It was a wet, vertical cleft, with plump outer lips lined with dark fur and more delicate inner frills that reminded Hruk of a flower. A blossom of meat. Those inner petals of flesh were wet with the female’s dewey secretions, glistening in the light of the moon.
Hruk moved his face even closer and sniffed.
The hot scent of her streamed into his lungs, raising his confusing arousal to even greater heights. Hruk was forced to consciously clamp down the inner muscles of his pelvis to keep his seed from spewing out all over the ground.
What b’gods was this wet slit? What was this power it held over him? Some kind of feminine witchcraft Hruk couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
His index finger moved forward of its own accord and touched it.
The female gasped.
A tremor ran through her, rippling outward from her sensitive slit. Her flesh took on a deeply pebbled texture in the moonlight. She was afraid. No…she wasnervous. But Hruk sensed she wanted him to keep touching her there. That was fortuitous because the ukkur intended to keep touching her, whether she liked it or not.
He intended to fully explore the female’s tender anatomy until he had discovered its true purpose.
He would explore her all night if he had to.
Hruk ran his finger firmly along the length of the female’s cleft, separating her slippery folds. She was incredibly wet. After just a few strokes, Hruk’s finger was drenched in her fragrant secretions.
The female moaned loudly.
Thinking he had hurt her, Hruk quickly drew his finger away. But the female’s next sound told him that was not the case. She whined at the deprivation of his firm touch, and it was clear she wanted more.
