I wet the soap and lift her arm, then rub the cake of it down her soft skin, bathing her. “You must tell me when you grow tired, though. We are in no hurry and I will not have you wearing yourself out.”
“I won’t slow you down,” she promises me with another sleepy yawn, lifting her other arm so I can wash it. Her eyelids are so heavy that it looks as if she struggles to stay awake. “That was part of the deal, you know? I go with you, but I have to keep up.”
I grunt. I made no such deal. I just wanted my mate at my side. And she wanted a honey moon but now she is too tired for anything but sleeping. Even now, she makes no effort to bathe herself, letting me take care of her. Not that I mind. I run the soap over her front, gently rubbing her teats and belly and she makes a soft noise of pleasure in her throat that sends a jolt through my cock.
Not tonight, I tell it. No honeymoon this eve. My mate is too tired.
“Sit up,” I say gently, and she leans forward. I run a few handfuls of water over her mane and then soap it, burying my fingers in the soft yellow strands. She moans, and I stiffen but do not stop what I am doing. Tired, I remind myself. She is tired. She always makes noises when she is tired.
“Where are we going?” Liz asks, drowsy.
I continue to work the soap through her tangled mane, making sure to get all of it clean. I know she likes her mane to smell nice, so I do my best for her. “To bed.”
“No, I mean in general. We’re going hunting, yes? Where to? Anywhere in particular?” She turns to look at me over her shoulder.
“Ah.” I think for a moment, then rub her scalp. “We are going very far into the mountains. We will work on filling some of the farther-flung caches, since we must be out and others would rather stay home with their mates.”
“Lazy bastards.” A tired smile curls her mouth. She does not sound upset, though, just amused.
I grunt. “Perhaps. Let us rinse your mane and get you to the furs. You need to rest.”
“You act like I’m so fragile.”
I lean in and rub my mouth against her ear. “To me, you are.”
She shivers.
Once my Liz is clean, I help her back out of the water. I would carry her to the furs but the ceiling is so low in this cave that I cannot stand properly. I keep my hands on her hips, even so, and she shuffles towards the furs, yawning. “I hate that I’m so tired for the first night of our honeymoon.”
I can hear the disappointment in her voice. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to make this special.” She rubs a drying-fur on her wet mane to dry it and then tosses it aside. Once she slides her legs under the blankets, she lies down and then looks up at me. “I wanted to make you think ‘hot damn’ when I touched you.”
I quickly dry the dripping water off of my body, noticing that she watches me as I do. I slide into the furs next to her, and put a hand to her waist, pulling her close. I lie on my side so she is tucked half-under me, and our gazes meet. “Every day is special with you, my Liz. Every day is ‘hot damn.’”
She smiles, her arms going lazily around my neck. “Do you even know what hot damn means?”
“It means I have the most beautiful, gorgeous mate in the entire cave. It means that she is insatiable. It means that even though she has an ugly male for a mate, she makes him feel as if he is a chief in the furs.” I nip lightly at her chin, her cheek, her nose, her brow, her ear.
“A chief in the furs,” she giggles. “What exactly does a chief in the furs do?”
“Whatever he wants,” I mock-growl and move lower, pressing my mouth down her smooth skin, past her prominent teats and down the slim length of her belly.
A sleepy moan escapes her throat and her hands brush over my mane. “I like where this is going.”
“Do you?” I lick her navel, then lower, and lower still. I lick the tuft of fur between her thighs, and when she drags her legs apart, I move between them and settle in. This is my favorite place to be, I have decided. I love to bury my mouth between my mate’s thighs and lick her until she coats my tongue with her arousal, until her cunt is clenching and needy, and she claws at my mane as if she will come apart. I put my hands on her hips and take a long, slow taste, savoring her.