He's trying to please me, and really, that's all a girl can ask for.
Once they're all on the fire, he looks over at me with expectation. I beam approval at him, and love that a slow smile curves his mouth. "Thank you," I say softly.
"Cook," Rukh says as he moves around the fire and back to my side. "Rukh cook Har-loh."
I giggle. I know what he means, but it just sounds a little funny to hear. "You're doing lovely, Rukh. I appreciate it."
He sits extremely close to me, pushing aside some of the loose furs I piled atop us when we slept. He's naked—he's pretty much always naked—and Rukh leans in close, touching my jaw. "Rukh kiss Har-loh," he murmurs. "Yes?"
He's definitely learned all the “important” words, my wild, ferocious mate. He's got kiss down pat, that's for sure. "Kiss," I whisper, and lean in to brush my lips over his. I won't think about him biting off the head of one of those scorpion-crab things, because I might think it's gross, but to him, it's just food. I don't want him to ever feel ashamed around me. There's nothing wrong with him; it's me that has to adjust to life here.
So I touch his face gently and kiss him. Kissing Rukh is never a chore. If anything, it feels a bit like Christmas every time, which is an odd way to think about it, but it fits. He acts as if every time I kiss him, it's a gift. And I feel like every time that I kiss him, I'm being given something special as well. So…Christmas. It makes me happy to touch him, to kiss his firm mouth, to give him pleasure. I think about all the years he grew up in the wild without anyone to talk to, much less anyone to kiss, and I'm happy that resonance paired us together. It doesn't matter that he scared me in the beginning. I saw the lonely, aching man beneath all the dirt and fell in love.
Rukh groans softly against my mouth, tugging me to the furs. He's ravenous for attention, my mate. Doesn't matter how insignificant the touch is, he wants more. I keep that in mind as I kiss him, making sure to touch him all over, brushing my fingers over his skin and down his neck. I murmur his name between little presses of our lips, letting him know how pleased I am with him and how happy I am to be here with him. He can't understand my words yet, so I'll give it to him in actions.
"Har-loh," he rumbles, his khui purring despite the fact that we've already resonated. Just being around one another is enough to make our khuis respond, and I place my hand over his heart, where his khui “sings” to me.
Rukh brushes his nose against mine, then nips at my lower lip. His hand slides to the loose waist of my leggings, and then he pushes inside. He's ravenous, my mate, and it's an eagerness that I share. I thought things were supposed to slow down with resonance, but it's been a few days now and I still feel as insanely hungry for him as ever. I still wake up with him touching me in the middle of the night, and it excites me.
It's not a chore to be touched by him. Not in the slightest. I'm still getting used to this planet, to resonance, and to the thought that we've made a baby. But adjusting to him? No hardship at all. "Touch me," I whisper. "I don't mind."
"Touch," he rumbles, and his hand steals between my thighs. He's a quick learner, and all it took was for me to show him once what I liked and now he's determined to do it right every damn time. I moan, clinging to his shoulders as he rubs lightly at my clit. "Har-loh mine." His voice is so possessive as he leans in and nips at my ear, repeating the words. "Har-loh mine."
Fuck, when did he learn “mine” and do I even care? I rock against his hand as he works my pussy, his finger lightly dancing over my clit. I bury my hands in his hair and clench my body against him as he nibbles on my ear and seems determined to give me a hard and fast orgasm even before breakfast. Need ratchets up in my body and before I can even process things, I'm coming hard and fast, my pussy flooding with my release. I let out a little cry as I come, dazed at how he can make me get off so darn quickly.
He kisses me again, his movements gentle and tender. "Har-loh."
"Rukh mine," I tell him softly. I smile up at him, all dopey-eyed pleasure, and run my hand along his chest.