things have happened that have prevented us from settling into each other. "I have no wish to speak of this."
S'bren ignores my request. "When P'nee is mad at me, I distract her with kisses. It takes her focus off of the things that make her angry. She likes kissing." He gives me a proud look, as if he is the first one to discover kissing.
I think of those brief moments I had with my mate back in my old hut. Of my female in my lap, riding my hand. Of her soft smile as she kissed me, and the way she gasped when I touched her teats. Of the way she felt when I sank into her tight channel…it has been far too long since we have touched, and I am left with a miserable ache. "S'bren, truly—"
"A mate that is happy in the furs will be happy out of them," he says, as if he is one of the elders, passing out wisdom.
"I know this!"
"But M'rsl does not seem happy," S'bren points out, and it strikes me like a blow. "Are you sure you mate her properly? Make sure that she comes? I know we had no experience back on the island. It is why I bring these things up."
"I know how to pleasure my mate," I snap at him, arms crossed. It is just that…she does not want me to touch her. I do not share this with S'bren, though. I do not want anyone to know the shame of it—that my resonance mate can no longer stand my touch.
S'bren has never been one to understand subtle cues, though. He continues on, a helpful expression on his face. "Oh, I have a new move that makes P'nee wild. I growl against her clit and it makes her thrash like a fish caught in a net. I have never seen anything like it before. You should try it." He straightens, all proud male, and points a finger at me, enunciating his words. "Like a fish. In. A. Net."
"Her what?"
"Her clit?" He gestures between his thighs. "The little bud on her cunt?" When I frown in his direction, he gets an astonished look on his face. "You have not played with her clit? I think I am starting to see why M'rsl is so unhappy—"
I give him a light shove. "Get out of here. Go give your advice to your brother. He was yelling at his mate earlier."
"She was yelling at him. And then they made up very, very loudly," S'bren adds, completely unaware of my foul mood. "It is a thing they do. M'tok is M'tok, and C'lie gets mad, and then the next thing I know, they are mating so loud they are shaking my hut next door."
I run a hand over my face. Must every word out of S'bren's mouth be about mating? "Go and join your mate, brother. Your advice has been very helpful."
He brightens. S'bren moves to my side and claps my shoulder. "I am here to help."
Shrugging his hand away, I return to the interior of my hut as he leaves, and my thoughts are turbulent. I cannot help but think of his words. How everyone knows M'rsl is unhappy. How P'nee thrashes like a fish in a net when S'bren touches her.
A clit. A tiny bud on her cunt. How have I not seen this before? I rub my jaw, thinking hard. Is this problem between M'rsl—MARI—and myself because I am not pleasuring her properly in the furs?
Am I a bad mate after all?
12
T'CHAI
I go to find my mate.
The entire camp is busy with excitement, several of the females and Shadow Cat clan clustered around a spot on the beach. I see N'dek with his tall, slender mate as they pick up dead things on the shore and study them. He will join in the games, I think, his balance stronger now that he has his false leg to support him. I flex my bad hand again, wondering if I will need a false hand to replace mine over time, if the tendons continue to tighten and I cannot grip small things properly. So many things have changed with my body.
I would sacrifice myself a hundred times again if it would save my mate. I should not even worry over such things.
I raise a hand in greeting as others walk past. There is Shail, with Z'hren in her arms. She rocks him as she stirs a pot of food over the fire, chatting