“I, uh, any way you want to—that’s how I like it.” My voice sounds squeaky in my own ears. I’m embarrassed when my cock bobs toward her hand, begging for contact.
“Is there something that someone else has done that’s felt good?” She kisses me on the cheek.
Someone else? The thought of anyone but Lena makes my stomach roil.
“There has only been you.”
Her eyes widen and her little pink mouth drops open.
“Only me? Kitaico, are you a virgin?”
A robed human woman flashes in my mind, my translator chip struggling to convey the meaning of the word.
“I don’t understand this word.”
“Have you had sex before?” Her face screws up as asks the question.
“Yes, you were there.” Lena must have a terrible memory.
“No, I mean, have you ever put your penis inside anyone?” Her voice is gentle.
“I’ve never had a mate, no. I hope you’ll let me, though.” I try to ignore my throbbing cock as I answer her.
“Oh. Oh!” She seems flustered. “I mean, I guess it makes sense, I just didn’t really think about it.”
“So, there have been others for you, then?” I try not to look crestfallen.
“Yes, but not a mate. You are my first in that way.” Lena bites her lip. “Does it bother you that you’re not my first for other things?”
I think of it for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Do I like that there are males that have known the pleasures of my mate in the past? No. Do I find fault in her for it? Also no.
“It does not bother me. You bear my mark and you’re here with me now. You are everything I’ve ever hoped for.”
Her grin broadens at my mention of her mating mark.
“Speaking of marks, I had Yiskku drop something off for me!” She jumps from the bed, her excitement causing her to skip. I have to pinch the brothers to get them to release her as she moves. She scans our quarters until her eyes land on a medium-sized metal box on our table.
She grabs it and heads back toward me.
“What is it?” I hope it’s something to distract my mind from my throbbing shaft.
Lena doesn’t seem to pick up on my discomfort, her excitement over whatever lies in the box overshadowing my little problem. She lifts the lid, and inside there’s a curious arrangement of objects. It contains a large bottle of antiseptic fluid, several piercing needles, sterile bandages, and what looks like a jar of mashed up nuite fruit.
“You’ll have to explain.” I tilt my head, trying to make sense of the box’s contents. “Do you wish for me to pierce your nipples and then feed you a snack?”
Lena laughs so hard she nearly tips over onto me.
“I mean, that sounds fun, don’t get me wrong, but no. I’m going to use this to mark you, like the marks I have. I’m going to tattoo you and give you a mating mark of your own.” She beams at me, her smile pulled wide.
A mating mark of my own? My clever mate has found a way to claim me in the ways of our people.
“So, will you let me mark you as my own?” she asks in earnest.
When I look at her face, when I think of what she’s offering me, my heart wants to explode.
“I would be honored to bear your mark, but how are these things going to help us do that?” I gesture to the box she holds.
“It’s called a tattoo. I’ll poke your skin with the needle and rub the nuite fruit into the cuts. Once it heals over, I hope it’ll be permanent. From how the dye stained the cave walls, I think it should.”
I narrow my eyes at her.
“I must love you if I’ll allow you to stick me with needles and rub food in the wounds,” I say half in jest.
“It’ll be easy, promise. I haven’t done a stick and poke tattoo since before my apprenticeship at the shop.” She’s giddy, so I don’t ask her to elaborate on what shop she’s talking about. “Should we do it tonight”—her eyes drift back down to my throbbing cock—“or maybe tomorrow, if you need me to…”
“No, I’ve waited long enough. I wish to be claimed,” I try to say playfully, showing her my palm with a smile. I cross my leg over the other, willing myself to soften.
She plops down next to me, takes one of the bottles of sanitizer, and pours some onto her hands. She grabs my hand and rubs her wet palm onto mine. I watch with curiosity as she opens the sterile bandages and uses them to wipe one of the long, thin needles and the jar of purple goop. Lena opens the bottle of nuite fruit.
“I had them boil it. I think that’s as close to sterile as we’re getting, if that’s okay.” She looks somewhat nervously at the jar.
“I trust you.”
She takes a deep breath and dunks one of the sanitized needles and eyes the skin of my palm, turning it from side to side.
“Would your mark look like my own, if I was an Andjin?” she asks.
“Yes, not every mating mark looks the same between all pairs, but mine would look just like yours.”
