Page 48 of Citrine

And I am the one teaching him. Letting him experience all there is to know about a gentle touch.

I imagine running my hand down his broad chest, caressing the curves of his torso and finding out if he's as big down there as I think he is. Wild fantasies of being curled up and folded by Wroahk fill my head as desire causes warmth in my lower body.

Damn. I lit a fire that I can't douse easily, and sleep tonight will not come easy.

"This is just sick, Eli. I can't believe I'm horny right now."

Worst of all, I can't relieve myself. Besides, survival is way more important than lust. I'm just hoping there are no more surprises.

23

Wroahk

The feeling of her short limbs over my own overwhelmed me.

I remember her asking if there was a place she couldn't touch, but I didn't think it would be a problem. I was wrong. It was too much and not enough all at once, and I don't know how to think through it.

It was a strange, enjoyable feeling. Such a simple gesture, yet I stayed there, transfixed, as I let it happen. Even as I remember it, my entire body trembles in pleasure, expecting more of her touch.

Needing it.

It's a far different type of starvation than any I have experienced before.

There's no sensible predator that exposes themselves like that to anything. It felt like she was reaching past my skin, down to thedepths of my being. My distrust, my hesitation, all of it seemed to wash away when she touched me.

This must be her ability.

I've wondered how she survives having no useful physical qualities. It's quite insidious, this power she holds. She must have the ability to subdue someone without using physical strength or violence.

That might explain it. Her strange ability must affect my unwillingness to eat her.

No, it doesn't make any sense. How is it possible she subdued me before ever touching me? What is it about her? Her disgusting yellow weeds? Those round eyes? Her soft, fragile body?

The battle in my mind returns the more I try to understand what she is. An inferior version of me that dares to control me without having enough strength to match my own. A species that has to rely on… whatever that was to be able to survive.

I despise her.

She's the opposite of everything I stand for, yet her touch lit a strange type of warmth under my skin. It wasn't scalding, neither was it violent. It consumed me…kindly.

I let out a breath, and then accept the truth. I can't bring myself to hate such a thing. It's a unique sensation.

I don't know how I've lived my life without it.

I avoided my pod mates. I lived a solitary lifestyle and kept to myself because I always thought it was best.

And it was. I was the strongest, so I survived.

I lived everyday hunting and defending my territory. It was what I was made for and what I was meant to do. I lived every day like the last, not bothered by how large the outside world was.

Her touch was like a rough awakening. I was violently thrust into a world much bigger than mine, where the circle of life and death mattered, but not by avoiding the death of a single, very specific person.

If she has this, others might also provide it, so why not just kill her and search.

My tentacles clench at the thought, and I bare my teeth. No. It would never be the same. I know it.

The warmth of the sun, the precious caress of the ocean, food in my belly. All I needed for survival were hunting and defending my territory. All of that made sense to me before I met her.

Those are all that should matter. Not the company of another. None of this ever mattered to me before, but I will not let it go now that it is in my grasp.