Ruth props up on her elbows and her jaw drops. "Are you kidding me? I'd sit on your face every day if I knew you were into it."
Kef me, I like that idea so damn much. "I'm into it," I say thickly. "Very, very into it."
She waves a hand at her hips. "Then lick away, baby. I promise you, I would have to be very, very sick to turn down oral."
I press a kiss to her lower belly, glancing up to watch her face. "And my touch has not bothered you so far? Even though I am…alien?" It occurs to me that just because the men that crewed my ship initially were mesakkah, it doesn't mean that the ones that hurt her were. It could have been pirates. Ruth wouldn't know the difference. To her, they would all be the enemy. I hate that I have to ask, but at the same time, I want to make certain that she is comfortable. That everything we do is still pleasure for her and doesn't stray into unpleasant memories.
Ruth flinches, and I feel like the biggest keffing ass in the universe. "You're different," she says quickly. "The way we touch is different." A mirthless smile curves her lips. "And if you want perfect honesty, you going down on me would be different, too. You'd be the first alien to give a shit about whether or not I like being touched." Her words are harsh, but the fingers that caress my cheek are gentle and loving. "So…thank you."
"I haven't done anything yet," I admit.
She shakes her head. "For asking. That means more than you know."
I nod, a knot in my throat. I want to make this good for her. I want to make it so good she forgets she was ever touched unpleasantly. The moment my mouth brushes over her folds, she whimpers, the sound soft and vulnerable and very un-Ruth. Her brow furrows, and she gasps, reaching for not my horns, but the hand I have on her stomach. I twine my fingers with hers. "Tell me to stop and I will."
"I know."
I touched her in the bath and made her come, but a mouth is different from a hand, and mine might be bringing more memories to the forefront. "I have you," I murmur, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh again, since she seems to tolerate that better. Is that why she's so eager to touch me and not the other way around? Because she's nervous? She talks boldly, but underneath, she's vulnerable. She just hides it well. "I have you, love."
A strained laugh floats up from her, and her grip tightens on my hand. "I'm supposed to be telling you that."
"No rule says we can't tell each other. Should I stop?" I rub my lips along her thigh, moving over her skin. "I will. Say the word. This is nothing to me if you don't enjoy it with me."
"It's just…" She swallows hard, then frowns up at the ceiling.
"Intimate? Uncomfortable?"
"Vulnerable," she admits, squeezing my fingers. "Sorry. I thought I was past this."
"Then we will stop," I say immediately.
Ruth shakes her head. "No, let's keep going." She offers me a hesitant smile. "I want to be with you."
"Then look at me." I run my thumb over her fingers, brushing her skin. "Watch me when I taste you. Tell me what you like."
She clutches my hand tightly in hers, and I decide I don't need those fingers. I'll just have to use my mouth. I press in, my lips grazing over her folds. "How does that feel?"
"Fine?"
I dip my tongue along her seam. "You should say 'It's fine, Lord Straik.' Say my name when I touch you."
The laugh Ruth huffs out is slightly indignant. "And title too?"
"Why not?" It'll remind her that she's here with me. That it's my hand in hers, my mouth on her. "I like hearing it."
"Well," Ruth drawls. "It was fine, Lord Straik."
"And this?" I push her folds apart with my tongue, licking her deeper as I move my head.
She squirms against mine as I lick. "It's fine—"
I squeeze her fingers.
Another laugh escapes her. "It feels fine, Lord Straik. Are you going to make me say something every time you move your tongue?" When I hum a sound of approval as I drag the tip of my tongue through her wetness, she chuckles. "Oh boy."
I'm not deterred by her response. She's focused on me, one hand twined with mine on her hip, her other hand moving over one of my horns. I flick my tongue against her folds, and when that doesn't get a response, I give her another hand squeeze.
"Seriously? You're kinda taking me out of the moment, Lord Straik. You really…" Her voice trails off into a gasp as I press the flat of my tongue against her clit. Her legs jerk, and her hand clenches mine tighter. When I give her hand another squeeze of reminder, she lets out another whimper, her voice a mere whisper. "That felt good."