Page 52 of You're Not My King!

Nie’tr spoke better Earthling language than I, so there was barely a pause before he responded. “Yes. He is jealous. Understandable.”

“Duh-sunt mean he can go around hurting pee-pul.”

I felt a whisper of shame settle in my chest, but also confusion. My mate did not approve of my methods, though he found them arousing.

He was a riddle, that was certain.

“He is Great Leader, and a bonded male. He does as he must to protect his mate,” Nie’tr added, defending me despite my actions. “He is… not himself of late.”

I frowned.

It was the truth that I had many things taking charge of my thoughts, especially protecting my mate from the unrest of our planet, but I did not think it was the reason for my erratic instincts.

“What do you mean?”

Nie’tr wavered. “There is much on his mind. Clan disputes and rebels. And you.”

“Why me?” A disbelieving tone accompanied the hoo-man’s words.

“He cares for you. Wants to be beside you always, but cannot. You do not want.”

Silence fell between them, and for some reason, my heart began thundering in my chest. Using all the stealth I possessed, I peered around the hut, gaze landing on my hoo-man as he chewed his bottom lip, considering my cousin’s words.

“Oh,” he said, deflating, and I detected a hint of guilt before he recovered. Had Nie’tr’s words rung true? Or was realization dawning that he had distanced himself and now regret swelled? I would not know. “Well…” He sounded more distracted than before. “He deed-unt have to do that.”

My cousin waved off the hoo-man’s concern, smirking playfully. “We are family. It happens. I shall beat him at swordplay later.”

My hoo-man laughed, and I wished to hear that beautiful sound again.

For me.

Days had passed, and my frustration at the closeness of my cousin and Roo-bin had not dissipated. It had boiled inside me, the vision of another’s hands on what was mine, the untroubled attitude my mate had displayed, even though my jealousy had sparked desire in him.

It was foolish. Nie’tr knew better than to provoke me—he was already treading a dangerous line, but it was not his fault. He had fallen under my mate’s charms. Roo-bin was a lonely hoo-man seeking companionship, and my cousin was a kind-hearted male. He would not stand aside and watch the little creature suffer.

Still, I wanted Roo-bin all to myself. As was my right.

The only trouble was that my hoo-man was not amenable to ownership. He was not submissive to authority, and he had expressed, quite loudly in his body language, that he did not enjoy being commanded outside of the furs. I enjoyed his stubborn and defiant streak, it was refreshing, but it made abiding by my instincts and nurturing our bond much more difficult.

The moment Nie’tr had withdrawn his grip, I would have bent my mate over right there and marked my territory, shown my cousin who he had dared to disrespect, but I could not. The little creature would have withdrawn from my brutish ways, and after it had taken so long to earn a fragment of his trust, I could not risk it. It meant I could not please him as often as I needed to, or ravish him until he knew exactly who he belonged to whenever my possessiveness flared. Roo-bin had to initiate our matings, and I would respect that, even if the notion was unusual to me.

That did not mean I had to refrain from flirtations and teasing. Mercifully, I was not the type of male to back down from a challenge, and I was in the habit of getting my way. It would have been a shame to break that tradition. That was why I had decided to play with my hoo-man. Since our delicious encounter at the bathing spring, Roo-bin had grown bolder in his lust for my touch, his want for my cock. He smelled of constant arousal, and seemed to have relinquished some control of his urges, casting aside his self-inflicted restraints and vowing to take his pleasures more often. He wanted it as much as I did, but he still had a glimmer of hesitation, and my aim was to test that barrier while keeping it on his terms.

I wanted to see how long it would take him to succumb to his base needs and use me as consistently as his small body hungered for.

I had started subtly, innocently brushing claws over my mate’s sensitive skin, using the knowledge I had to exploit those spots on his neck, arms, and face that I knew plucked the most delightfully soft reactions—little sighs as he angled himself closer to me—but went no further. I would use my allure to entice his compliance, rumble and purr in his ear whenever we spoke, knowing the sounds made him shiver and weaken.

Once his eagerness had heightened, I began wooing my hoo-man with more roguish purpose. Whenever he was craving touch, I would paw at his thighs and rump, kneading the pillowy softness in my palms, drawing mewls and whimpers from him. I would whisper filthy words of encouragement and praise, ones my Roo-bin did not understand but could sense from my tone as I palmed his length, gifting him the friction he begged for.

There had even been instances when I had nudged the limit, offering caresses to his firm cock until it drooled the sweetest and most desperate essence, close to eruption, whenever our clansmen were within earshot. It was not frowned upon among my kind to mate in the presence of others. It was typical to please our soul companions whenever and wherever the need arose—encouraged, even—but according to my hoo-man, it was a scandal, so I would always oblige his boundaries and cease.

It never failed to make his pale skin blush prettily as he spluttered in protest whenever I parted from him, unsatisfied, with his cock hard as rock and release within his grasp. Each time, I loathed tearing myself away from my needy mate, but I knew the reward would be that much sweeter. Not only would Roo-bin be freer in his passions, but it would prove my hoo-man wanted me, and was not merely bond crazed.

I had little doubt.

Four turns of the moons was all it took before he broke—longer than I had anticipated, but worth the wait. All the petting and denial, leaving my mate frustrated too many times, had built to a peak, and earlier today, my hoo-man had asked to meet in our tent, so I knew for certain that my efforts had been fruitful. What I had not expected, however, was to stride through the pelt flap to find my wicked little mate sprawled bare on our furs, with three fingers stuffed inside his hole while he stroked his cock.

The scent of the room alone had my body at attention, but the sight was almost enough to have me expelling early. He had presented similarly before, down by the spring, but this seemed different. He was not attempting to hide away, only begging for me when I had caught him. This was purposeful—a display for me. I was now more in tune with my mate, and I knew the meaning of his looks and gestures, so I stalked closer, preparing to take over for the hoo-man’s fingers, but I was stopped by a small foot in the center of my chest.

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