Barbarian's Touch: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 8) (11 page)

He scowls at me and pushes the dipper in my direction again, then gestures.
Drink
.

Why is he trying to take care of me? I’m not the one that was nearly eaten by a monster. I resist the urge to slap the dipper out of his hand because the water shouldn’t be wasted. I’m frustrated, though. Here I am worried about him and he wants to take care of me? That’s nonsense.

It’s clear from the stubborn look on his face that we’re not going to get anywhere if I put up a fuss, though. So I take the dipper, drink it as fast as I can, and then offer it back to him.

He sets it down and then indicates that I should sit. When I do, he immediately comes over and kneels in front of me. I watch in surprise as he pulls my boots off, because I’m not sure where this is going.

Then, he starts to rub my feet.

I jerk away from him, and he looks up in surprise at the same time. I must have made a noise when he touched me. My chest is purring like no tomorrow and I’m feeling all hot and bothered just from that brief brush of his fingers over my feet. This feels wildly inappropriate, though, especially given he’s still covered in blood after saving my life.
No
, I sign.
You wash.

The look on his face is devastated, like he’s done something wrong. He shakes his head and tries to take my foot in his hand again. It’s clear he wants to take care of me. It’s sweet, but it’s also awfully out of place at the moment. I shake my head again and touch his arm. “Rokan. I’m fine. Really. Please go wash and take care of yourself. I’m worried about you and it would make me feel better to see you take care of yourself.” I push a lock of his long, dirty hair back off his face.

He stills, eyes closing, as if my touch is the best thing he’s ever felt.

That hot flutter returns to my belly and I have the strangest urge to run my hands all over his half-naked body, filth and all. Man, I have been just the
horniest
lately. It’s not like me. There must be something about Rokan that gets me all fired up. But I’m pretty okay with that? I mean, I really like him. There’s something about his attentiveness and his sweet personality that charms me, for all that he’s built like the Hulk’s blue brother.

Then he opens his eyes again and gives me another heated look that makes my toes curl.

Wash
, I sign again. Because it’s easier to push him away than to unpack what I’m feeling right now.

Rokan nods, a flicker of disappointment on his face. He turns away and heads to the fire, and I wonder if I’ve hurt his feelings, somehow, because I didn’t encourage him? Was I supposed to?

And if I did, what happens then? I’m not experienced. What if things are different with aliens than they are with humans? What if me hitting on him and letting him know I’m interested means we’re married or some craziness?

I rub my forehead. When did this all get so complicated? I wish Maddie were here. She’d know what to do. For all that my sister’s a bigger girl, she’s confident as all get out. Me, I’m the shy, awkward one.

I look over at Rokan.

And then I blink. Hard.

While I was busy moping, he’s been stripping down. Gone are his leggings and the only thing he’s wearing is a rather small breechcloth. The sides of his ass are visible, and he’s just as blue and taut and oh-so-bite-able - sigh - there as he is everywhere else. His tail flicks back and forth, long and graceful, even if there’s a slight bend at the end of it that wasn’t there before. His entire torso is covered in grime and there are smears of blood going down the broad muscles of his back.

Sure, he’s been shirtless before, but he’s never been quite so close to naked. And I can’t stop staring.

I watch in fascination as he leans over the fire to dip the washcloth into the pouch of warm water. The cave is small and tight-quartered, and that means his ass is within grabbing reach, if I was a grabby sort of girl. Seeing him like this? It definitely makes my fingers itch and makes me want, so desperately, to be a lot braver than I am. Maddie would grab. Maddie would let him know just how interested she is.

Not for the first time in my life, I wish I was more like Maddie.

Then he straightens, his back still to me, and begins to wash his chest with broad strokes. I bite my lip because it’d be creepy for me to move to the other side of the cave just so I could get a better view, right? But I really, really want to. I want to watch his big hand trail over wet muscles. The purring in my chest seems to be throbbing in time with my aroused pulse, and the urge to slide my hand between my legs is overwhelming.

This is so, so wrong and yet so right.

I clamp my legs together and clasp my hands on my knees, as if that will help slow my arousal. As if that will make me stop thinking terribly dirty thoughts, like
is he going to take that breechcloth off
? Or
what’s alien equipment look like
? Or
is his skin that furry-feeling-soft on his inner thighs as it is on his arms?

Oblivious to my attention, Rokan continues bathing, swiping the cloth up and down his arms, getting the worst of the gunk off his skin. He dips it over and over again, trying to clean his skin off. There’s a large spot on one big, flexing shoulder, and as I watch, he misses it. And then misses it again.

God, it’s like it’s taunting me with its presence.

If it was me bathing him? I’d totally get that spot. My fingers itch at the thought, because how bold would that be? But he moves the cloth over his arm again, and misses it once more.

Argh.

Rokan glances back at me and makes the water signal. If he notices the way I’m devouring his backside with my eyes? He doesn’t say anything. If anything, he’s a little stiff and awkward as he takes the dirty water to the front of the cave to toss out into the snow.

I notice as he walks past that there’s an old blood smear on his tail, too. God, this really is a travesty of bathing, isn’t it? I should help out.

I really should.

Just as a friend, of course.

A friend would totally point out to a friend that they were missing a spot on their big, brawny shoulders. It has nothing to do with the insistent, hollow ache between my thighs.

When he walks back in a moment later, water crystallized on his skin like a glossy coating, he’s carrying the water pouch full of snow directly in front of his crotch. No wonder he was walking stiff and awkward a moment ago - he’s trying to hide his erection from me again.

I press my fingers to my lips, watching as he puts the snow over the fire and crosses his arms impatiently. He’s got his back to me. That’s something Rokan never does, because he wants to be able to see my hand gestures. He’s always so very careful about that.

But right now? Back to me, and won’t turn around.

That needy feeling pulses between my legs again, and I squeeze my thighs tight.

Should I say something? Do something? It’s clear he’s as attracted to me as I am to him. I’m just terrified of being turned away. What if he has a lady alien waiting at home for him? That would be devastating.

I chew on my lip, full of indecision as he tests the melting snow, then dunks his cloth again and begins to wash once more. His movements are quick and hurried, and he’s missing the dirty spot on his shoulder with every brusque swipe.

Gah.

I can’t let this go on.

Courage, Lila. He likes you, too. Remember that
. I suck in a breath and get to my feet. My entire body feels like it’s trembling. Of course, that might be because I’m purring so hard. I’m surprised he hasn’t commented on it. It has to be noisy, doesn’t it?

The frost covering his body is melting, leaving little taunting rivulets all over his skin as he washes. Naturally, that one spot that’s driving me crazy seems to be spared, because of course it is. It’s the universe telling me to step in.

I’m on my feet; I just need to move forward. I can do this. He’s not repulsed by humans; the hard-on he’s doing his best to hide from me tells me that. But then I falter - what if there’s another reason he’s not acting? Because he’s like, married or something?

Crap.

Crap crap crap.

For some reason, the thought of that hurts. I’ll never know unless I ask, though. So I suck up my courage and take a step forward, touching him on his arm. “Rokan.”

He jerks around, glowing eyes wide with surprise. His gaze meets mine and I feel a charge of electricity shoot through me.

No going back, now.

I make the wash signal and then hold my hand out.

He puts the scrap of cloth into my palm. I can feel his gaze on me, even if I won’t quite meet his eyes. I’m blushing. There’s heat in my cheeks, just like the heat between my legs that’s driving me to distraction.

“You missed a spot,” I mumble aloud and dip the cloth. The water’s still cold and slushy, having not had enough time to melt yet, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. I indicate that he should turn, and he does, presenting me with his broad back.

And I take another steeling breath before I put the wet cloth against his skin.

He’s so warm. So hard and covered with muscle. It’s like being this close just puts everything into overdrive. I can feel my chest purring wildly, and I really want to scrub him, all business, and show that I’m not affected. But I can’t. My hand trails over one broad shoulder with the cloth, and I watch in fascination as the water sluices down his back. In the flickering light of the fire, he’s all blue shadow, and I’m dying to touch him.

So I do. My fingers graze over his shoulder blades, and he stiffens, but doesn’t move. His tail flicks against my leg, then stills, as if he’s afraid of scaring me off. Like that’ll happen. I’m in this deep. Might as well get a little pleasure out of things, right?

I trace his muscles with my hands, feeling along his back. He’s soft to touch, like velvet pulled over slabs of muscle. It’s such a strange feeling, but a pleasant one, too. Along his spine, he has the bony, plated ridges like he does along his brow and his arms. I let my fingers explore those before dipping to the small of his back, where the water droplets seem to be gathering.

I bet I could pull the tiny breechcloth off of him in no time.

The naughty thought enters my mind and won’t leave once it’s there. I don’t act on it, though - it’s taking all my courage to touch him like this. I don’t know what I’d do with him naked, but my mind has a few ideas. Filthy, filthy mind.

He turns slowly, and I can’t quite lift my head to face him. Instead, I focus on the fact that now my fingers are skimming over the flat planes of his belly instead of his back. He’s just as taut here, without an inch of flab to cover the six pack I’m tracing. Below, right in my line of sight, is the tented front of his breechcloth and it seems a lot bigger than I realized. Whoa. Okay. Alien equipment is definitely larger than human equipment. The sight of it makes my mouth dry, even as it makes me purr harder.

All right, the parasite I got is definitely a horn-dog of a parasite. I wonder if everyone’s is like that? Though I have to admit mine has excellent taste. I trail my fingers up that six pack and over his chest, he has the same hard plating. I place my hand over it, fascinated by the texture—

And I feel him purring underneath my hand.

I look up, startled. He’s purring, too? I didn’t realize because I couldn’t hear it, but I wonder if he’s been purring all along like I have. The look on Rokan’s face is utterly intense as he gazes down at me. It seems possessive and full of longing all at once, and it makes me shiver.

“I don’t know what this means,” I whisper aloud.

He lifts a hand to gesture, and then hesitates, as if trying to think of the right words.

That’s when I notice his arm is wounded.

I
remain utterly still
as Li-lah makes small fussing noises over the scratches on my arm, dabbing at them with the cloth. They are not deep and will heal in a day. My ribs and tail hurt worse, but even those can be ignored.

My cock aches the most of all, and that one cannot be ignored. Not with her standing this close and her small hands on my body.

This is the moment I have dreamed of - my mate touching me, the perfume of her cunt filling the air with her need. Her hand on my chest, feeling me resonate to her. It is everything I have ever wanted—

—Until she said she did not understand what the resonance meant.

It is like a knife in the gut to remember that she does not know what resonance means. She does not grasp how important it is, how life-changing. How my world has changed to focus entirely upon her. It is such an important part of my people and our lives that I cannot comprehend that she does not know of it.

No wonder she has not approached me. It is both relief and frustration to realize that. My mate does not know that she is my mate.

I let her touch and prod the wound on my arm until she is satisfied, though the look on her face is charmingly distressed for such a small scratch. I must think. If she does not realize we are mates then I must woo her, like human males woo their females. I must show her affection to win her. I cannot assume she will come to my furs unless she feels what I feel.

Her gaze meets mine, and it takes everything I have not to cup her lovely face in my hands, to touch her like she touches me. When she offers me the washcloth back, I get an idea. I make the
wash
gesture like she did, and then indicate she should turn around.

Just as she did to me.

She presses her fingers to her mouth, and I wait. I am asking much from her. After a moment, she pulls her hair over her shoulder and presents her back to me. Her hands move to her throat and she starts to undo the laces on her clothing.

Need rages through me and it takes everything I have not to grab her tunic by the collar and rip it from her body. I force myself to wait. Her fingers are trembling and she is moving slow, but then she tugs at the tunic and it slips around her shoulders, revealing pale human skin.

A groan escapes me, but she doesn’t turn. She stands before me, shy, her khui singing loudly to mine.
I must woo her
, I remind myself. I take the cloth and gently brush it over her bared skin, even though she is soft and clean. If she was brave enough to touch me, I will touch her back.

Her trembling stops, and as I continue to smooth the cloth over her skin, bathing her, she relaxes. The tension leaves her shoulders and they drop, and she tilts her head to the side, her hair sliding over her shoulder. She is enjoying my touch, and the thought fills me with joy. I want to press my mouth to that soft skin, to taste her, but I will go slow. I must go slow.

Then she drops the rest of the tunic to her waist, and I drop the cloth I am holding, stunned at the sight of her. The gentle curve of Li-lah’s back is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Until she turns toward me.

And the breath whooshes from my throat.

She gives me a shy look and starts to sign, then drops her hands. “I…I want to see your face if you say something,” Li-lah tells me. “It’s awful quiet on the other side.”

Of course. I lift my hands, then drop them. I do not have hand-words for how beautiful she is. How the sight of her bared teats makes me nearly lose control. How I am both filled with pleasure that she is my mate, and frustrated that my body sings so loudly for hers that it takes all of my control not to push her down into the furs. But I do not know these hand-words, so I signal
yes
, and then step forward to close the distance between us.

I feel her small body tremble as I come closer. Like this, the top of her head goes to the center of my chest. She is fragile, my Li-lah, yet I would not change a thing about her, because she is mine and she is perfect. I lean closer, and the light scent of her fills my nostrils. I close my eyes to savor it, the smell as delicate as she is. I want to rub my face against her skin and breathe it in.

“Could you…could you please kiss me?”

Her small voice catches my attention. I open my eyes and she is looking up at me, her head tilted back. She looks flushed and breathless, and her gaze flicks to my mouth and then to my eyes.

I am filled with a mixture of excitement and horror - the humans kiss with their mouths, but I do not know how to do this. I will not be good at it, I fear, and I want to impress her.

Yes
, I sign, and then hunch down, holding her shoulders and studying her face. I will need to aim my mouth carefully at hers, and with our size difference, I must squat a bit. I consider her mouth, then lean forward and press my lips against hers with a smacking noise. There. A kiss. I pull back to see if she is pleased.

Her brows furrow together, and then a small giggle escapes her. She claps a hand to her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

Yes
? I sign again. Did I do well? She is so pleased she is smiling?

But as more giggles and snorts peals out of her, she starts to wipe her eyes, her shoulders moving with the force of her laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she says, trying to catch her breath even as more tears stream down her cheeks. “It’s just that that was so terrible.” And she snort-laughs again.

I stiffen, doing my best not to scowl. She asked for a kiss. I tap at my chest and then sign
no
, then make a kissing face to tell her I am new to it.

She just howls with more laughter. “Sorry,” she gasps. “Sorry, sorry.”

My irritation fades, and instead, I find myself smiling. Her amusement is adorable, and this is the happiest I have seen her since she was pulled from the cave wall. I make the signal for
again?
just to tease her, and she giggles even more, clutching her sides.

This leaves her pink-tipped teats bare and shivering with her laughter. I am not displeased by this at all. My fingers ache to explore her, but I will settle for her smiles now.

“Sorry,” she breathes again, and makes a signal. “I guess you guys don’t kiss?”

I shrug. We are learning much from humans, but I do not have the hand-words for this, either. Again, I am frustrated by the fact that I can only speak bits and pieces to her. I have so many things I wish to say. How did Vektal get around this with his mate, Shorshie?

Then I remember - the Elder’s Cave. The one with the talking walls. It teaches languages. It will know how I can communicate with my Li-lah.

I will take her there. I grab her and hug her close, excited.

She stiffens in my arms, surprised by my touch. A small ‘oh’ escapes her.

Another groan rips from my throat at the feel of her skin against mine. She is soft all over, except the tiny pink nipples that drag against my chest. My Li-lah is rounded and sweet in my grasp, and my cock throbs with the need to claim her.

“I guess you guys hug,” she murmurs against my chest, and she does not push away. I am glad; she feels right in my arms. She belongs there. I stroke her hair, her arms, her shoulders, anywhere I can touch her without frightening her.

I want to lick her pale skin and taste her. Everywhere.

Her hands smooth up my sides and then she pulls back, looking up at me. “Do you want to try kissing again? I promise I won’t laugh this time. I was just surprised.”

I nod quickly. I want it more than anything.

She gives me a shy smile. “Okay. Why don’t you sit and I’ll stand this time? Even us out a bit.”

I edge backward and drop onto the large, smooth rock she was using as a seat earlier. I spread my legs and gesture that she should come forward.

Li-lah bites her lip and her hands go to her teats, covering them.

I frown. Why does she hide herself? As she moves forward, I take one of her hands and pull it away from her breast, shaking my head. Is she ashamed? There is no need; she is lovely, and I will not touch her if she does not ask for my touch. There is no need to hide away.

“Right. I guess that seems silly.” She drops her hands and then puts them on my shoulders, closing the distance between us. From this angle, her teats are close to my face, but I ignore them, looking up into her eyes instead. “Now, I’m no expert at this either. I think I’ve kissed maybe one guy in my life.”

This pleases me. I like that she is mine and mine alone. I give her hand-speak word for
good
.

She laughs again and gives a small shake of her head. “You won’t be saying that after I give you my own lousy attempt at kissing.”

Nothing she does could be ‘lousy’. I do not need my knowing to understand this. She is perfect in every way.

But then she moves and sits on my knee, and our faces are level. Her fingers brush over my cheek, and I go still.

I hold my breath, lest I move wrong and frighten her before she places her mouth on mine. I need her to kiss me. I need it more than anything. The throbbing song of our khuis fills the cave, and as she leans in, she presses her teats to my chest. Her small hands cup my jaw, and she lowers her mouth to mine.

Her lips are soft as they brush over my mouth. I should not be surprised; humans are soft all over. But I am surprised when her little tongue slips out and brushes over the seam of my mouth. I jerk backward, astonished. That small touch of her tongue nearly made me lose control. My cock aches like stone, and I am breathing hard.

“Sorry,” she says again, but there is a smile on her face that says her apology is a lie. “That is what kissing is. It’s mouth pressing, but it’s also tongues. Did you not know that?”

I shrug again, my skin prickling with awareness of her. I should have guessed that tongues were involved, but I thought humans pressed mouths together and blew air into each other’s mouths. I thought it was something that would make sense when I had a mate.

I am a fool. I smack my own forehead. Of course tongues are used. Tongues are for pleasuring. It can go in a mouth as easily as a cunt, I suppose. I have done neither, but the other hunters talk about how to please a female. It seems I should have listened more. I am making a muck of resonance. My mate does not understand it, and when she tries to show me affection, I am surprised.

I am a terrible mate.

“Ready to try again?” she asks, caressing my cheek to get my attention.

That small touch makes me suck in a breath, and I close my eyes, because I am close to spending my seed. I take a few moments to compose myself, and when I open my eyes again, she is frowning down at me as if something is wrong.

Afraid that I have worried her into stopping, I place a hand at the back of her head and pull her against me for another kiss. Our lips meet and mash again, and she makes a small, surprised noise, but she does not pull away. Instead, her lips work against mine, caressing, and I pay attention. I will let her lead in this. When her lips brush against mine in a light movement, I kiss her back. When her tongue flicks against my mouth, I part my lips so she can taste me.

In the next moment, her tongue brushes against mine, and I am lost. A kiss with tongue is like nothing I have ever experienced before. Her mouth is hot and slick, and her tongue is smooth, so smooth. She rubs it against mine and a little moan of surprise escapes her, which makes my cock throb in response. She does not stop once her tongue touches mine, though. She keeps kissing me, her tongue dancing and playing against mine with delicate, teasing brushes. In this, I let her lead as well. Not because I do not want to take charge - but because I am stunned at how much I am feeling at the moment. Over and over again, we kiss, tongues locking and playing, until I am breathless and a mere touch away from losing control.

She pulls away, her lips wet and swollen, and gives me a dazed look. “That was…wow.”

Yes,
I signal.

Her gaze flicks to my hands and she laughs, then wraps her arms around my neck and snuggles close against me. I am surprised she has come to my arms, but pleased. I put my arms around her, feeling her soft skin against mine. She shivers, and I realize she is cold. That is why she is so eager for my touch. Of course.

I pick her up and take her to the corner of the cave. There are furs rolled up and stored, and as I set her gently on her feet, I indicate that I am going to make her a bed. She nods and crosses her arms over her chest again, shivering once more.

I feel like a fool. My mate is cold and here I am playing at kisses. I should be taking care of her. I quickly undo the furs and shake them out, then layer them until they form a thick nest. Once it is done, I gesture at it and she slips under the blankets.

Before I can get up to stoke the fire, her small hand catches mine. She peels back the blankets and pats the bed. “Just to snuggle?”

I do not know what
snuh-gull
is, but I can guess. She does not want to do more than what we have done, because she is not experienced. And even though her khui is singing as loudly as mine, I understand. I am just happy she wants me at her side.

I move under the furs with her, and her arms go around me, her breasts pressing against my side again. I put my arms around her, my chest singing with happiness.

“I guess I have an alien boyfriend now,” she muses as she presses her cold hands against my side. “That’s different.”

If boy-friend is the human word for mate, then yes, yes she does have one.