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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Ancalagon - 41. Chapter 41

Sorry this is late! I stabbed my palm between my thumb and forefinger and had to get a few stitches yesterday evening, and it cut my writing short.

Garjah was still tense. He was still frowning even though he had me wrapped in his arms. As possessive as I was of him, he was of me. That was all it was.

At least I hoped that was all it was. “What about what you need?”

“You’re what I need.” Garjah stroked my face. “You’re changing everything; I want to make you comfortable.”

I pushed into his caress. He leaned down, nuzzling my cheek and then kissing the corner of my lips. I turned, needing more, hungry for the taste of him more than the food he’d brought. On my toes, I leaned against his solid chest, stroking his shoulder.

Using my tongue, I prodded the seam of his lips until they parted. My tongue could not compare to his, but I caressed him back, moaning at the salty flavor I craved. His breath puffed against my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, sinking into the pleasure building between us. The tension I’d felt, the tightness of my skin across my joints, eased until I was boneless. His arms became steel bands around my back. Only his embrace kept me on my feet.

Finally parting, gasping for air, I rested my forehead on his shoulder. Garjah stroked my back until I rolled my head back and looked at him. “You’re addictive,” I accused in a voice not at all angry about it.

Garjah chuckled. He dropped into a chair. “Sit down?” He made it a question.

Instead of taking the chair opposite him, I just sat on him. He looked amused. “Food?” He grabbed the edge of the tray and pulled it closer to us.

“Not that hungry.” I rocked closer to him, but my stomach took that moment to prove me a liar. It proclaimed its empty status with a hideous gurgle. My face heated.

“I love how your color changes.” Garjah’s eyes were lidded, and his scent thickened. “But you need to eat.” He put a hand on my hip, stilling me. “Then we need to speak of protocols.”

“Protocols?” That would not help my appetite. I slid off Garjah’s lap and into my own chair. “For meeting the Kardoval, right?”

“Partly, yes.” He took food off the tray and put it in front of me, gently placing my fork beside my plate. I stared down at the purple-flecked rounds, the green and yellow swirled nest covered in a white sauce, and the fruit I recognized from Ardra. Not exactly food in their style. I glanced at Garjah’s plate which had strips of food in similar colors to mine, and even the same white sauce. He picked up a third plate and stood.

My breath caught. “Where are you going?”

He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Just feeding Bouncer.”

As happy as it made me he’d brought Bouncer food, I stopped him. “Do you think he’ll take it from you?” Bouncer seemed to like Garjah, but what I’d learned was that cerops were fed by their mothers in the wild, and apparently I’d take his mother’s place.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Garjah wiggled the plate. “I’m just going to set this down. He can eat it or not.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t going to try to hand feed him like I did. “All right.”

Garjah carefully approach Bouncer who’d sat up when I’d said his name. His gaze was locked on the plate in Garjah’s hands. I hoped it wasn’t breakable because it looked like… “Watch out!”

Midway through leaning down to place the plate on the floor, Bouncer, well, bounced. He pounced on the edge of the plate, tipping it so all the meat on it went flying. Garjah’s reflexes were fast, so he held onto the plate and leapt backward away from Bouncer just a second after he’d struck, but it was too late.

There was meat on the floor, on the bunk, and even one piece that went sliding into the bathroom area. Bouncer was growling as he starting eating, searching out each piece and pouncing on it before he snapped it up.

I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. I covered my mouth with one hand, wrapping two around my chest. Like that would keep it in, but no. I started laughing in big, huge gasps of sound.

Garjah turned slowly and gave me a look of utter betrayal.

“Sorry, I guess he was really hungry,” I gasped out between spasms. My sides and ribs ached, but it was hard to calm. Bouncer was so excited each time he found a new piece of food, and Garjah’s normally stoic look was gone. “He’ll clean it up, every drop.” He always did.

Shaking his head, Garjah came back to the table and dropped the empty plate onto the tray. “The bunk is a mess.”

I shrugged that off. “It needed to be changed anyway.” I glanced down at my plate, picking my fork up and twirling it in the noodles. “After earlier.” Not that I hadn’t been sitting there enjoying the way our scents mingled.

Taking the bite I managed to neatly twirl onto my fork, I hummed in appreciation. The thin strands were spicy and crispy when I bit down, for all they flexed like a softened noodle. The sauce cooled the spicy bite and was fresh with a hint of fruit. “This is great,” I managed to offer between swallowing and shoving another bite into my mouth.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s one of my favorites too, but I asked them to make something your utensil would work well with.”

“Someone show them human food?”

“Probably. Timok was there before, ensuring you would not be eating anything toxic to your system.” Garjah sliced off a bite of his block of food and swallowed it down. I tried not to imagine what else he could do just opening up like that and—

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Oh my, what fun could possibly be waiting ahead???

“I love how your color changes.” Garjah’s eyes were lidded, and his scent thickened. “But you need to eat.” He put a hand on my hip, stilling me. “Then we need to speak of protocols.”

“Protocols?” That would not help my appetite. I slid off Garjah’s lap and into my own chair. “For meeting the Kardoval, right?”

“Partly, yes.” He took food off the tray and put it in front of me, gently placing my fork beside my plate.

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Bouncer acts like many of my pets have acted. I don't blame Essell for laughing.  😸🐶

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