Page 22 of Stolen By The Beast
“To mate is to perpetuate one’s kind.”
“Wow. I can’t tell if you’re making this difficult on purpose or not.”
I snorted. “You make things difficult, not me.”
“Do not! Ugh! Just… show me what you mean by mate.”
My body responded to her command, desire weaving its way through my veins, but still I resisted. I needed to make sure what I wanted was the same thing she wanted.
“How about you show me first?”
Juniper’s face blazed, and the scent of her desire grew stronger as I sank to the ground, pulling the tiny female with me until she was situated in my lap. She squirmed until her legs stretched on either side of me, pushing the wet heat of her sex against my body.
“You’re blushing again.”
“Did I ever stop?”
“I don’t think so. Is it because you’re embarrassed?”
“Some, but mostly…”
“Aroused?” I supplied since I doubted she would be able to say the word.
“Yes,” Juniper admitted in a whisper.
It demanded a confession of my own. “I want to mate with you, too.”
She reared back. “Really? Why?”
I laughed, the sound once so foreign, now so easy with her around. “I’m not sure. Your kind repulses me, but you don’t. You’re so fragile, and yet so strong. You glow brighter than the sun, and I want to bask in your light.”
The smile that split her face nearly blinded me, and she gave me a fierce hug before wiggling again. “You say that you can smell me—”
“And feel you. There’s heat between your legs, and it’s damp against my fur.”
Another scorching blush. “Yeah, that happens with human women. But, ah, what about you? You don’t feel… aroused.”
Juniper managed to choke out the last word, and I did worry about the crimson shade of her face. Surely, it wasn’t healthy to be that color. I mulled her words over in my head, wondering what she was asking when I realized she didn’t have my senses.
She couldn’t smell my desire like I could hers, but she’d said feel. “What do you mean?”
“Please don’t make me say it.”
“I’m sorry, tiny thing, but we have to be honest with one another. We might speak the same language, but the meaning is often not understood. My grasp of human words is not perfect. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about. Mating is natural.”
Juniper relaxed a bit in my arms. “Right. Okay. I can do this. Human men get… hard. Their, you know—I mean, uh, cocks.”
She buried her face in my chest, and I rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her. Underneath me, I felt the hammer of her heart as I realized what Juniper was trying to tell me. A cock must be the male counterpart to her femininity.
“My kind calls it a saroque.”
“A saroque,” Juniper said, rolling the foreign sound around her tongue in a way that sent shivers down my spine. “But where is it?” She punctuated the question with another wiggle, clearly trying to find it.
“Inside its pouch.”
Her eyes rounded. “Pouch?! Like a kangaroo?!” She scrambled back a bit until she was seated almost on my hooves, staring intently at the apex of my legs.
Parting my fur, I showed her the slit that housed my saroque. Juniper reached forward, but withdrew with a frown. Smelling her curiosity, I snagged her hand and stretched out her fingers to run them along the crease of my pouch.
