Chapter Forty-Three – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays
Chapter Forty-Three
MURR
It is as I suspected – lip kith are much, much more interesting than cheek kith. I’m pleased that Dakotah offered one to me, and if she wishes for me to be silent, I will be as silent as can be. I suspect we are hiding from the others as we sit behind the bulky wooden barrier, but a new idea occurs to me.
Is this why Dakotah has been so strange every time I mentioned a kith? Are kith on the mouth meant to be in private? Hidden? So the others do not see and grow jealous? Is this similar to the kilt she likes for me to wear on my loins?
If so, this all makes sense.
Because now that we are hidden in the darkness away from the others, she does not pull away from my touch. She lets me put my mouth all over her hand, nipping each fingertip and tasting her skin, and her breath hitches. From those little, quiet gasps, I can tell she’s enjoying this.
That, and the arousal scent that thickens the air around us.
She moves a little closer to me, curling against me as I press my lips to her hand. My free hand settles on her back, a handful of fabric in the way of me touching her skin. I pull on it until I can work my hand under the sleeve of cloth that covers her torso, and I’m rewarded by a patch of bare skin at the base of her spine, which I decide is mine to stroke.
Dakotah makes another one of those sultry little gasps when I do. “Murr,” she whispers.
“Mouth kith?” I ask again. Because I have to ask. I desperately want more of them. I need Dakotah to be my mate. My fangs are throbbing, filling with the venom of the mating bite, but I need her permission. I am a flawed male, a loner with no one to rely on, and I cannot claim her as mine if it will be detrimental to her.
But that does not mean we cannot enjoy a mouth kith…or several of them.
I know now to be quiet for a mouth kith, and when she nods in silence, I take my cue from her. I put my claws on her chin, angling her fascinating, soft mouth towards me. I know how good it will feel when our lips touch, but I am still taken by surprise. It is as if that graze of her mouth against mine becomes the only thing that exists.
Her small teeth graze my lip, a mere suggestion of a bite, but it sends a thrill through me. Do human females bite their males? I try to imagine her blunt little teeth doing any sort of damage and suspect not…but the mental image is arousing all the same. Dakotah’s tongue brushes against mine, and I forget all about teeth entirely. Tongues. Tongues are the important part of a mouth kith.
They are what change it from fascinating to all-consuming obsession.
Our kith deepens, mouths entwined as if we are determined to devour each other. I have never felt anything like this. My fangs ache and ache, throbbing in time with my pulse, making me desperate to grab Dakotah and pull her head back, exposing her neck for my bite. Even as my tongue drags against hers, I envision this bite, the gasp she would make, the connection of our minds–
My fangs drip. Just a drop of the venom, but it is enough.
Dakotah draws back with a stifled hiss, her hand going to her mouth. “Why ith my mouf burnnin?”
I can guess what she is asking – something has happened and she does not understand. How do I explain the mating bite? Frantically, I stab my thoughts at hers, but it as frustrating as ever. There is no response, no reaction, no nothing. The mental web that once connected me to the other drakoni is vanished as if it has never been. I am left without the words to express myself.
So I just pat Dakotah on the cheek.
She gives me a puzzled look before drawing away, tightening the blanket around herself. “Ok dat wz weird ofu.”
“Murr…” I trail off, struggling to think of her spoken sounds that will explain how I feel right now. How I want to keep touching her, my fingers trailing along her spine even as I tease her mouth with my lips. How I want to rub my tongue against hers again, but my throbbing fangs are demanding more from her and I do not know if I will be able to control myself if we continue. Yet I only have words for things like ‘meat’ and ‘car’ and ‘sun’ and I give up with a growl of frustration.
Dakotah touches my chest, as if she understands. “S’ok, Murr. We tokk mr tmorroh.”
Then, she settles in against me, tucking her head against my neck. I normally do not sleep in my two legged form, as it is far more comfortable to stretch out in my battle form, to spread my wings and curl my legs up around my large body, to let my tail slither free.
Yet with Dakotah pressed against me, I will happily remain where I am.
