Hannah's Hero - Ruby Dixon Page 0,59

a fist and puts it over her heart. “This thing is making me miserable. I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, and it just won’t stop freaking purring. It makes me horny all the time and I can’t relax. I just want it over with, you know? Knock me up. Fill me with your baby batter and let’s make a kid.” She reaches for her loincloth and tears at it with fumbling fingers. “Let’s make three kids!”

“H’nah,” I groan, grabbing her hand before she can rip off her clothing. “No. We are not mating this night.”

“Taushen and Brooke are,” she says, waggling her eyebrows at me. “All the cool kids are doing it.”

More nonsense words. “Again, no.”

“Do you not want me?”

I give her an exasperated look. “I am constantly hard with wanting you, H’nah. But I will not touch you while you are not yourself.”

Her eyes light up. “What if you just jerk off in front of me?”

“What?”

She nods. “And then I’ll do myself.” H’nah wiggles her fingers at me playfully. “No one’s touching anyone that way.”

“No,” I say again, firm. “Ask that in the morning.”

“You’re no fun.”

“No, I am not.” I wish I was. Instead, I will be enduring another long night of no relief, my cock hard as a rock and aching, and this time it will be worse because the object of my desires is a handspan away and practically squirming with her own need. “I am no fun at all.”

“You know what I think?” She says, and leans closer to me. Then she taps my nose. “Boop!”

Truly, I am the most patient of males.

13

HANNAH

I’m dying.

I’m pretty sure my head has never hurt quite like it does right now. I groan, squeezing one eye open at the too-bright light overhead. It won’t go away and it’s making my head hurt so bad that my teeth throb. It feels as if my scalp is on fire, and my mouth feels as dry as a desert.

A desert with an aftertaste.

I lick my lips, disgusted at the taste, and pull a remnant of leaf out of my mouth, throwing it over the edge of the cave. Ugh. The far-too-bright world around me makes me squint, and I try to sit upright, only to have my head pound as if it wants to explode out of my skull.

Something big and pale blue looms in front of my face. “H’nah?”

I groan, clapping my hands to my ears. “Don’t yell at me.”

“Apologies,” J’shel says a moment later. He leans over me again, his long braid smacking my cheek. “You used your hand. Does it feel better? Does the burn still pain you?”

“I…guess? It’s my head that I want to amputate right about now.” I fling my arm over my eyes. “Can we turn the lights down or something? My brain hurts.”

There is a loud—oh so loud—rustling noise and then a moment later, I feel something cool flutter over my face, like a breeze. The lights go out. I squeeze an eye open and see that J’shel is setting up some kind of tent out of his cloak, tying the edges to one of the vines. It’s a thoughtful gesture and I appreciate it so much.

I’d appreciate it a lot more if I wasn’t dying, of course.

“Water,” I manage to croak out.

He touches my hand, and I expect him to hand me a skin. Instead, he unwraps the leather around my fingers, brushes the still-damp leaves aside, and studies my fingers. They don’t hurt, and he gives a grunt of satisfaction a moment later. “Your burn looks good.”

“Water.”

“You had too much chakk last night, I think.”

“Water.”

“It seems to be a lot stronger for humans,” he says, and there’s amusement in his tone.

“Water, motherfucker. Water.”

He laughs, and the sound rings in my ears, making my head swim. “Do you still wish for me to touch myself in front of you this morning?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you if you don’t get me some water soon,” I growl.

He laughs again, but this time he presses a waterskin into my hands and I take a long, long drink…only to have him snatch the skin away from me again. “Not too much too quickly or you will vomit.”

I snarl at him.

“Obviously you wish to vomit,” he says, and hands the skin back to me. “Be my guest, little flower.”

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” I grump, taking small sips.

“Why would I not be? I have a pretty female in my furs, a cave full of fine, ripe