"I can tell by your expression. Tomorrow I'll say something to the scientist. If they want you comfortable, they need to realize how sensitive your nose is." She pushes a towel into the water bowl.
"I don't want them knowing I have a weakness," I growl.
That makes her pause. "Oh. I'll tell them her scent makes your dick shrivel and you want it to be nice and hard for me." She shrugs, and then picks up the wet towel. "I found some unscented soap. Hold still."
To my surprise, she moves to stand directly in front of me and dabs at my face. I do as she asks and remain perfectly still, thinking of her gentle hands on my skin. She keeps her fingertips on my chin as she washes my face with her other hand, and she's close enough that her scent envelops me. My cock surges to life, filling with blood and aching painfully. I think about the hand she put on my arm.
She's so small and soft and yet…she's not afraid of me. I could grab her and twist her head off before anyone could take a breath. I could snap her like a twig. I could do any number of brutal things to her but she stands in front of me, between my knees, and cleans my face with a warm, wet towel…and she remembered I don't like scents.
No one has ever been so kind to me.
Mina is quiet as she works, her gaze flicking to my eyes every now and then. "You had a few scratches on your face that welled up with blood, and you've got sand all over you. I thought it might be more comfortable to clean up a bit." Her expression grows flustered and she takes a step back. "And I'm an idiot. Of course you can clean yourself."
She holds the towel out to me.
I don't take it. I nod at her instead. "You do it."
"Oh. Okay." Her mouth moves in an almost-smile. "I wasn't sure if you liked my fussing. I was a teacher back on Earth, you know. Nothing impressive, just pre-school classes. That's small children. And they're messy—so messy. They don't want to stop for anything, either. I'd keep wipes by my desk and just grab a child when they went past and clean their faces. I guess old habits die hard." She puts the towel in the water again, then wrings it out and brings it back to my face, patting me more than cleaning. "If I do something you don't like…will you say so? I'm going to do my best to not piss you off, but you're an alien, and I'm an alien, and we're bound to misunderstand one another. Plus, I've been accused of being stubborn before, and I'd really like to not get killed just because I'm bossy."
I snort at that. "Are you bossy then?"
"Well, I try not to be?" She smiles at me and cleans my neck, carefully wiping sand off my skin, and then moves to my shoulder. "I've been told it's not an appealing slave trait, so I try to rein it in, but I feel like we're in this together. That we're…friends. So I worry I'm going to get bossy with you."
A friend. I am honored by her words. I have never had a friend before, I do not think. There is not one in my memories, scattered things that they are. I think if I had a friend before, though, it would not feel so monumental now. And yet…as she touches me with soft, delicate fingers, I am reminded that I am a bad, terrible male, because it irks me, too. I do not want to be her friend. I want her to be under me. I want to taste her skin and see the faces she makes when she is pleasured. I want to bury myself deep inside her and feel her around me.
Those are not “friend” thoughts.
She presses her lips together, frowning at my skin. "You're covered in these little scratches, Crulden. What did they hit you with?" Her fingers move over my skin. "You've got blood all over your back, too. Are you hurting?"
I fight back a shudder of pleasure, closing my eyes as she touches me. I want to savor the sensation. "No."
I am anything but hurting right now.
Mina leans over me and wets the towel, and I feel her smaller form press against my arm as she does. She cleans my back carefully, rubbing against me, and I try to ignore the tightness in my sac, the hard throb of my cock in my loincloth. Friends, I chant to myself. Friends. Friends. Friends.
"Oh," Mina says softly, and her hand skims over my shoulder blade. "I think these are from your…spikes. Are you sure you're okay?"
I groan, unable to help myself. I want to touch her so badly, I clench my fists so I won't grab at her.