"Mhal," Jenny says. Her voice is quiet, the hand she puts on my arm cool and appealing. "I can hear everything you're thinking. I didn't realize it triggered you. Let's just leave it alone, all right? If it bothers you, we'll avoid buildings with doors in the future." Her thoughts are contrite; she did not realize I was offended. "I just don't like destroying more stuff, that's all. So much of what's left is already trashed. It seems a shame to tear apart more."
She likes this building, I realize suddenly, because of how “whole” it looks in her eyes. How normal. It makes her think of happier times.
Now I am the churlish mate. I step inside and take a quick glance around. No intruders. There is dust on everything, and muddy footprints on the wooden floors that speak of interlopers from a long time ago, but the scents are faded and unimportant. There are things inside that immediately draw Jenny's attention—an “old-fashioned” lounge chair. Racks of things that smell like humans. Picture after picture on the wall.
But it is safe enough, and that is all I need. Good.
Turning toward my mate, I pull her into my arms and press my lips to hers again.
Jenny makes a startled sound, her thoughts fluttering with surprise. We are going to mate now?
Yes, I tell her. This is a shelter, just as you wanted. Now we will mate and I will cover you in my scent, as I want. I lick at her lips, because they look fuller and softer the more we press mouths together, and I like that. A hot thrill of excitement spikes through her mind when I lick her, followed by the arousal scent.
I growl low in my throat, pushing her toward the floor. Now I will claim you.
"Wait, wait!" Jenny says. Her thoughts fill with the couch. "It'll be much more comfortable than the floor."
I pause, then release her when she pulls out of my grasp.
21
MHAL
Jenny moves to the couch—which looks far too small for both of us—sits on the edge, and then smiles at me, patting the seat next to her. "Come sit."
I do as she asks, carefully adjusting my weight until I am certain the thing will hold my body. It does not seem comfortable, but she is pleased.
She leans closer to me, her arm brushing against mine. "Isn't this better?"
I glance over. My mate sits at my side, instead of in my arms. I do not think it is better, but I also think we can find a solution that will please both of us. I reach over and pluck my mate from her seat, pulling her into my lap, her bottom on my thigh. Now it is better.
Jenny laughs, and then I feel her thoughts search mine. "Not too heavy?"
Why would you be too heavy?
She shrugs, and I pick up feelings of discomfort. She worries she is not petite, that she is strong and broad and has big hips, and that these are things that will displease me. She likes her body, but she thinks it is not an ideal one, that her breasts are small and her hips big.
Humans think in such odd ways. Are you uncomfortable? Do you want me to put you down?
"No," she says softly. "I like it when you hold me."
Then I will hold you and we will forget this nonsense about being too heavy. The feel of her in my arms is near-perfection, and I send her that thought so she can realize it, too.
"'Near' perfection? What's perfection, then?"
I lift a hand off her waist and cup one of her breasts, my thumb tracing circles around the tip. Now it is perfection.
She sucks in a breath, heat flooding through her mind. Her gaze goes to my mouth again and this time, I know my cue. I kiss her, our lips brushing, and because I liked it so much last time, I stroke my tongue across the seam of her mouth. Jenny moans, her thoughts rolling with pleasure, and she grazes my tongue with hers.
Now I see why humans like this so much. It is incredibly intimate, touching tongues with her. It is full of sensation, too. Our mouths lock together and we lick at each other for a while, learning what the other likes. Jenny dives into my thoughts, following what pleases me, and when her tongue scrapes against one of my fangs, it sends pleasure surging through my body. My hand teases her nipple as we kiss, the peak stiffening, and she makes whimpering sounds against my mouth even as we devour one another. She loves my touch, but she wants more.
I want more, too. I release her breast and push my hand between her thighs, where she's wet and fragrant with her need. Get on your hands and knees, I tell her. I will mount you and ease that ache you have deep inside.