Kael and Ava were alone at home in the middle of the night, George had gone on patrol with the other guards and males of the tribe to make sure the hippo tribes didn't surprise the tribe with a sneak attack.
Lying on the makeshift layered fur bed, Ava looked up at Kael who was standing above her. She held her breath for a moment because Kael's face looked so ethereal from this Angle. His face has always looked ethereal but tonight it especially looked alluring.
A few loose strands of Kael's long blue hair framed his face, highlighting features so perfectly balanced between masculine and feminine. His skin looked smoother than hers, and his eyes... his eyes looked like the ocean itself was hiding inside them.
Among all the males in this tribe or her previous tribe, Kael was definitely the prettiest. If he lived in the modern world, he would've been a top androgynous model without even trying.
Putting aside how she met Kael in the first place, Ava thought [I still can't believe that I get to have a beautiful man like him as my husband,] Ava squealed inside her mind, her face heating up. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat.
Kael stood over her, silhouetted by the dying embers. From this angle, he looked utterly ethereal, a masterpiece, His features, usually sharp and guarded, had softened into something dangerously alluring. The intensity in his eyes wasn't the cold fire of a warrior, but the molten heat of a male who looked at his mate as his entire world.
He leaned in, his cool skin a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from her. He began to pepper her neck with kisses, light as feathers at first, then growing more insistent. He trailed a path of fire down her collarbone to her breasts, and in what felt like a heartbeat, their clothes were discarded. Kael's powerful, lean body was a map of hard muscle and smooth skin, his two tubers already active and ready for the primal task of mating. He kneaded her breasts with calloused hands, his tongue swirling over the tips until a low, broken moan escaped Ava's lips.
It didn't take long for him to perceive her arousal. The scent of her readiness filled the small space, and she arched against him, her body a beautiful mess of desire beneath his weight. As he thrust into her, his movements were a rhythmic, relentless tide. He left a constellation of red marks across her neck, marks of possession that she welcomed while his hands never stopped moving, overstimulating her until her vision blurred.
Her body trembled, her nerves frayed by the sheer intensity of the sensation. She couldn't tell where she ended and he began. Was this pleasure? Was it the frantic heat of a goodbye before battle? She felt like she was drowning in a sea of white heat. When the first round finally crashed over them in a wave of release, she collapsed back into the furs, gasping for air.
"But..." Kael's voice was a low, vibrating rumble against her ear, "can we do it one more time?"
Ava couldn't find her voice, so she simply nodded. To be honest, the stress of the looming war had left her body feeling tense, her body craved the grounding weight of him to keep the fear at bay.
But that "one more time" was a lie. It became six times, perhaps more. The night blurred into a cycle of sweat, skin, and a desperate, beautiful hunger.
"I promise, this is the last one," Kael hissed as he shifted her, taking her from behind. He buried his dual length into her honeypot, one after the other, the dual sensation threatening to snap her mind.
"Kael..." she whispered weakly, her fingers clawing at the furs. "That... that really has to be the last 'one more time.'"
Deep down, she knew she was just as much to blame. Whether it was the fear of the looming battle or the terrifying possibility that Kael might not return, she couldn't get enough of him. But she knew that if they didn't stop, Kael wouldn't have the strength to stand at the gates, let alone fight the chief of the hippo tribe.
"Of course," Kael said, blinking his eyes and taking a huge breath as if trying to calm down and force himself out of his primal mating trance. "Yes. That was the last time."
As they lay there, Ava's mind drifted. She thought of George, whose sheer size and thickness offered a different, more overwhelming kind of intensity. Kael was long and lean, a precision instrument compared to George's heavy power. She wisely kept that thought to herself; if George knew, his smugness would be unbearable, and if Kael knew, he would likely try to prove himself until she truly couldn't walk.
For the real final time that night, Kael slammed his cool body into hers. With every thrust, a low, vibrating hiss resonated from his chest, a sound that bypassed her ears and shook her very soul. The climax hit her like a freight train, starting at her core and radiating outward until her vision went white. She screamed his name, her inner walls pulsing around him, milking him dry.
Kael groaned, his head falling onto her shoulder as he gave three final, jarring thrusts. He poured into her, his body twitching with the force of his release. He held her there for a long minute, letting the aftershocks fade, before lowering his face to place a tender kiss on her forehead.
Ava didn't even have the strength to pull the furs over them. She passed out instantly.
When she woke the next morning, the sun was filtering through the cracks in the hut. Her body felt less like a woman and more like a piece of Cassava dough that had been dug out of a bucket, stirred, and pounded in a mortar for six hours straight. Every muscle from her neck to her toes protested the slightest movement. Her inner thighs felt as though she had spent the night in an excessive leg-split.
However, she felt clean. The sticky heat of the night had been wiped away; someone had clearly bathed her while she slept. The door flap moved, and George walked in, carrying a wooden bowl of steaming bird meat soup.
"You're finally awake," George said, his voice softer than usual.
"Thank you, George," Ava rasped, reaching for the bowl. Her arms felt like lead.
George pulled the bowl back slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You can't even hold your own weight, Ava. Let me feed you."
"I can do it myself," she insisted, her pride struggling against her exhaustion.
George's smile widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Either you let me feed you with the spoon, or I feed you mouth-to-mouth. Choose."
Ava glared at him, but she knew him well enough to know the "mouth-to-mouth" option wouldn't end with just soup. She sat back with a huff. "Fine. The spoon."
As he fed her, George couldn't help but be playful. He would bring a spoonful of savory broth to her lips, only to whisk it away the moment she opened her mouth.
"George!" she snapped, her frustration growing.
She became vigilant, her hand darting out to catch his wrist before he could withdraw the spoon again. This brief, silly game began to ease the tight knot of anxiety in her chest. She looked at George in a new light. He knew she was terrified of the coming battle, and this was his way of pulling her out of her own head.
Once the soup was finished, the reality of the day came crashing back. "Is Kael at the front?"
"He's been at the gates since before dawn," George confirmed, his expression turning serious. "Amon came to see you as well, but you were deep in a sleep. He didn't want to wake you."
Ava guessed Amon had come to report on her plan. She had proposed a plan to the elders, a way to break the Hippo Tribe's spirit before they even reached the walls. Whether Shaman Lazur and Chief Morris would implement it was something she would find out before the sun set.
She looked at George, then toward the door. The time for games was over. The war had begun.