Inara looks like she tries to lift her head, but she flops back down like her neck is made of rubber, the tip of her horn sinking into a pillow. Spearing it. “I think I might die if it’s my turn again. But I’ll die well,” she declares, sounding supremely satisfied.
I send her a lazy grin, continuing to pet her with her own hair, and brush my thumb along her temple. “I meant it’s your turn to tell me all about you.”
“Hmm.” She runs her fingers up my arm, absently fascinated by my arm hair. Earlier, she tugged my chest hair, and—
And you should have seen the curiosity she had over my pubic hair.
“I told you of my siblings.” Her lips twist, not unhappily, but in thought. It makes the scales on her face shift as her skin tugs to the side. “My sire and dam are terribly overprotective, although they’re nowhere near the level my brothers operate at. I’m afraid I don’t have a litany of jobs I have worked because I have only ever worked at caring for our family home. Which is what every Rakhii couple simply assumes of their daughter, if they have one. My sire and dam would love to see me happily settled and caring for my own cave, raising a brood to rival the one I grew up in.” She stops stroking my arm, just leaving her fingers to rest on me.
“And you don’t want to settle down in a cave raising a brood of kids,” I murmur, taking a guess at where this is going.
She turns her head, and because her horntip speared into the pillow earlier, it comes with her as she moves; it's rising up as her horn does, hanging off of her like a weird decoration.
I reach for it, freeing her. She murmurs “Thank you,” and then her eyes search mine for a moment. “I shouldn’t be content with that, should I?” she asks, glancing away, almost sounding like she’s asking herself, her tone self-deprecating.
I release her strand of hair and sit up beside her. “Hey.” I wait until her eyes slide to mine again. “There’s nothing wrong if that’s what you want in life. My mom was a stay-at-home mom. She loved it. Inara, she was great at it. I have the best memories—and not just of her and my sisters and me, but her and my dad too. They had a real traditional relationship, and her role as a homemaker made her very happy.” I shake my head, remembering those years. “We grew up as a really balanced family thanks to how ‘content’ she was with all that.”
Inara smiles at me wistfully. “I grew up in a well-balanced homecave too, and I suppose it was for the same reason. Rakhii are very traditional, as you say. And… the idea of being traditional appeals to me. Very much.” She glances at me quickly, then moves her attention to my hand, tracing the rough spots and scars with the tip of her index finger’s claw. “I’m an aunt many times over, and my siblings know to watch me closely, because we Rakhii tend to… yearn to adopt young,” she finishes, a wistful quality to her voice. “I love their babies. I love all babies. Which is absolutely a trait of Rakhii, male and female both. I just didn’t believe this was also me until their babies arrived and I met them.” She smiles to herself, and kisses my knuckles. “And I… I never in my wildest imaginings thought I might utter this, but like the females of my kind, I’m drawn to home pursuits, and I find I miss my home pursuits.” She rolls her eyes at herself, her cute scaly lips pursing. “Which is ridiculous. I haven’t been away from them for very long. And I wanted this chance to get away. I’ve always thought that if I somehow made it outside of my family’s circle of overprotection, that I would embrace my freedom, becoming a new being.”
“You say that like changing into someone new is what’s supposed to happen. It’s not,” I rumble, and I pick up her tail from where it’s hugging my ankle. The blades of it are folded down, looking pretty harmless. And like the powerful arm of an octopus, it latches onto my hand as I work it free from my ankle, transferring its attention to a new limb, just changing location. “You got the freedom you wanted, and you’re finding out that you’re still you.” I sneak-attack kiss her. “And there’s a whole lot to like.”
She peeks at me from the corner of her eye. “You like me?”
I bring her tail to my lap, petting it like a cat. “I wouldn’t have gone to bed with you if I didn’t.” I reach for her face, her tail still keeping a grip on my arm. I cup her cheeks gently between my palms. “You have a sweet personality, you’re easy to get along with, and you’re dependable. Honest. Pretty.” I kiss her slow, and feel her relax under my lips.
When I pull back, my eyes stray over her, enjoying how her hair is spread out over my pillows in my bed. “You said you’re missing things. What are they?”
She sighs, her eyes rolling up like she’d be stargazing, if she could. “Simple pursuits. Ones I’ve enjoyed all my life.” She waves a hand at the room at large. “For example, I love to decorate. We Rakhii love to collect colorful and special things. Unlike a male Rakhii, who tends to hoard their perceived treasures, females usually love to display the things they’ve gathered.”
“That’s neat,” I murmur, peeling her tail from my wrist, amused as it clamps itself higher around my arm.
“I love to mend. I love to craft and create. Right now I feel a desire to curl up with a needlepoint project,” she says with a wistful sort of longing. “It’s perfect for relaxing. I derive genuine pleasure from needlepoint. I thought I’d abandon such silly things if I got the chance to get away but... It seems I truly am a hearth and home creature at hearts.” She shoves herself to a sitting position, looking troubled.
My hand takes longer to reach for her than it should, on account of my arm weighing about a thousand times more, the mass of her hugging tail a new sort of resistance training. I welcome the added challenge, and brush a thumb over her cheekbone until she meets my eyes. “If you find it relaxing, if it makes you happy, why do you seem to think liking ‘silly things’ is bad?”
She seems to ponder the question. “I suppose… it’s not.” She shifts a little, and winces.
I frown. My eyes trail down her body, and very carefully, I lay my hand over her mound. “Are you sore?” I murmur, beginning to gently pet her.
Sitting up, she spits on her fingers and nudges aside my hand to press them to her sex. “My saliva has antibodies for healing. I’ll be ready in just a click—” She raises a knee, dips a finger inside herself, and sucks in a tiny gasp as her healing spit makes contact with her well-used insides. Her grin is instantaneous and gorgeously wanton. “I’m feeling perfect.”
I drag her into my lap. “Good. And that—what you just did? Hot.”
Inara twists to kiss me. And when she has my mouth, she playfully catches my lip.
Which I’m into, until she suddenly nips it with her ultra sharp teeth.
“Ouch,” I growl. My fingers dig into her hips, making her eyes flash. She releases me and drags her tongue over my injury, contrite in her alien way.
Still… “Owwwwww. Camshafts and crackers—what the hell, Inara? Are you part vampire?” I pull away and feel the spot where she sunk her teeth in. “Did you just give me a snake bite lip piercing? Saber-toothed tiger-woman…”