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To my intense relief, his eyelids flutter, and he seems to shake himself awake. “Vivi?”
“Yes! Good! You’re here!” I tighten my arms around him, hugging him close. “I was so worried.”
“Tired,” he murmurs thickly, his eyes closing again. “Are…you naked?”
“I think the cold is affecting you.” I press myself closer to him. “Your body was like ice.”
“Bah. ’m…strong.”
“The strongest,” I agree softly. “Now go to sleep. I’ll stay here and make sure you stay warm.”
He nods and tucks his head against my neck, nuzzling his face against the curve of my throat. He breathes in deep and then sighs with contentment, drifting back to sleep.
I stay where I am, stroking my hand up and down his bare back, my legs twined with his. I should be overheated with the fire going like it is and the sheer number of blankets, but Skarr’s body seems determined to bleed away heat. We’ll have to figure something out, and I mentally debate fur-lined sleeping bags with room for two and fuzzy boots and gloves for him.
I don’t sleep for most of the night, getting up occasionally to tend to the fire and just holding Skarr close. I don’t think I’m in love with him, but he’s become a friend, and I’m not going to let anything happen to him. The wind tears at the hut, whistling through a few chinks in the walls, and I’m grateful to be inside with Skarr. I can’t imagine how he would have handled being in the cave. I don’t think he would have liked waking up to cuddling with Kyth or Valmir or Chalath. Jason, maybe.
The thought makes me giggle.
The wind stops howling, replaced by a soft quiet that reminds me of snow. I bet if I look outside, I’ll see a white blanket of snow covering everything except the slushy waves of the sea. Skarr sleeps heavily, his face nuzzled against my neck and then later sliding to rest against my breasts as he burrows deeper into the blankets. Definitely a sleeping bag of some kind, I decide, my mind drowsy.
Maybe one with sleeves for him…
And mittens…
I wake up to the sound of a low groan and lips brushing over the curve of my breast. A whimper of pleasure escapes my throat and I dig my fingers into Skarr’s soft hair. “You’re awake?”
“I’m angrier that I slept through this,” he breathes against my skin. “Your teats are magnificent. Have I slept against them all night?”
“Mmmm…more or less.” His mouth feels good against my skin, and I rub my fingers against his scalp, not wanting to ruin this drowsy, delicious moment. “You were too cold.”
“Warm now.” His tongue slithers over the tip of my breast. “So warm now. Can I touch you?”
It occurs to me that he already is, that asking for permission at this point is like asking to let the horse out of the barn once it’s already in the pasture. But it feels good to press against him, and his mouth against my skin feels even better, so I make a sound of assent and steer his head toward my breast.
Skarr groans, capturing my nipple in his mouth and sucking on the tight bud of it. His hands roam over my back, pulling me tighter against him as he teases my breast. He sucks on the tip until it’s hard and aching, and then teases his long, slender tongue against it. I’m not certain, but I think the very tip of his tongue is forked, and the idea of what a forked tongue will feel like sends an erotic curl of heat straight to my groin.
Something hot and protruding bumps against my backside, followed by another bump.
“Ignore that,” Skarr murmurs against my breast, his teeth lightly scoring the curve.
“Wh-what is it?”
“I extruded,” he says, and then turns his head to toy with my other breast.
My breath hitches as he nips the tip and then soothes it with flicks of his tongue. I rock my hips against him, and sure enough, I can feel the thick heat of his cocks pressing against my backside. Now that the shock of it has gone away, I’m curious what two cocks will look like…and more importantly, what they’ll feel like. So I slide down against him, circling my hips and trying to drag against the parts he just told me to ignore.
Skarr hisses against my breast, glancing up at me. His eyes are sultry with arousal, and as I stare down at him, he rolls my nipple against his tongue. It’s forked, all right. “I thought you did not like my cocks, Vivi.”
“They’re growing on me.”
“They are indeed.” He rubs up against me, and it feels like one large thick rod of flesh pressing against my backside.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, but I smile and cup his face in my hands. “How do you feel?”
“Like I just won a tournament.” He rubs his mouth against my breast. “Now I think I should have fought harder when a female prize was up for the winning.”
“I’m going to choose to be flattered by that,” I tell him, stroking a hand over his skin. There’s a bumpy line of scales up his spine, but other than that, he feels smooth and supple. “But I meant how do you feel this morning. Is the cold bothering you?”
