Lily and the Lion by Honey Phillips

Chapter Nine

The smell of roasting meat penetrated Lily’s senses, and she realized she must have fallen asleep again. Even locked in a cage, she had been too nervous to sleep on the ship, but she apparently felt safe in the middle of a jungle with a huge alien lion man. Why did she feel so certain that he would never let anything happen to her?

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she stretched lazily, then looked over at the fire. Strips of snake meat had been wound around thin branches and then arranged over the fire. The smell made her mouth water and now that it was simply pieces of meat, it was easier to forget where it had come from.

“That smells wonderful,” she murmured, and Leo looked up from where he was crouched by the fire.

He smiled at her, blue eyes sparkling, and her stomach did an odd little flip. Fuck. Why did he have to be so attractive? It didn’t seem to matter anymore that he was an alien.

But what does matter is that he’s keeping secrets from me, she reminded herself.

Remembering her earlier plan, she stood and stretched languidly, making sure he had a clear view. He watched her hungrily—perhaps a little too hungrily because her body immediately responded to the look in his eyes. Seducing answers out of him without getting seduced herself might be a little bit tricky.

Determined to remain in control, she sauntered over to the fire, letting her hips swing provocatively. She put her hand on his shoulder and bent down to take an appreciative whiff, knowing that the position made her breasts almost overflow her makeshift top.

“How long until it’s ready?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

“Ready,” he growled, his gaze fixed on her cleavage. His tail curved around her calf again.

“Then we should eat.”

“Yes.” He looked up at her face, then deliberately swiped his tongue across his lips, and she knew he wasn’t thinking about food. Her traitorous nipples hardened immediately, but she refused to acknowledge them. She buried her hand in his mane and tugged gently.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

A low grumble emerged from his throat and for a moment, she wondered if she had pushed him too far. But then he shook his head and reached for one of the skewers of meat. He started to hand it to her, then paused and picked up what looked like a crumbled leaf and scattered it over the skewer first.

She took it with a suspicious frown but he only cocked an eyebrow, daring her to taste it. She took a cautious bite, then groaned with pleasure. It tasted almost exactly like grilled chicken, and she realized the crumbled leaf added a slight salty note.

“Salt,” he said smugly.

An unexpected lump appeared in her throat. He had not only paid attention to her comment from the previous night, but he had made the effort to please her. But then her pleasure was replaced by suspicion. He had understood that, just as he seemed to understand everything else. So why wouldn’t he talk to her?

“What kind of plant is that?” she asked casually.

“Chuv.”

“Where does it grow? Is it hard to find?”

Peeping at him from under her lashes, she saw his mouth open, then close again. Did he look amused?

“No.”

He was back to his one-word answers, and she sighed. She looked over at him in time to see him wipe a smile from his face. Hmm. They would just have to see about that.

Once her stomach was full, he arranged the remaining skewers higher over the fire and added some damp leaves to the coals to make them smoke. Her minimal scouting experience came to the rescue.

“Are you curing the meat?”

He shot her a quick glance, then nodded.

“How did you learn how to do this?”

When he didn’t answer immediately she casually picked up his tail and stroked her fingers down the thick length.

“Grandfather,” he said, his voice strangled, and gave her a reproachful look.

“Are we going any further today?” She remembered he had said it was two days to reach his home, but she wasn’t exactly surprised when he shook his head. Did he even have a home?

Aside from the worry about her friends, she didn’t really object to spending the rest of the day in this pleasant little clearing. Maybe she could use the time to finally get some answers.

“Maybe we should use the time to work on your language skills,” she said innocently as she squeezed his tail.

Once again, he pulled it free, but she kept her hand closed so that it slid down the entire length. Was his cock covered in fur? She tried to remember that brief glance. It had been the same color as his fur but it had gleamed in the sunlight.

He was giving her suspicious looks, so she leaned closer and found the small pointed ear half-hidden in his wild mane.

“Ear,” she whispered, closing her teeth delicately over the velvety soft skin. He shuddered.

This is going to be fun, she thought, but then he tugged her into his lap and his rough tongue licked the delicate shell of her ear, sending a streak of lightning down her spine.

“Ear.” The low purr of his voice made her shiver, but she refused to give in. Then his mouth moved down to her neck, and he gave an inquiring grunt.

“Neck,” she gasped.

“Neck,” he purred. He licked her there as well, sending little flickers of excitement rocketing through her body. This game was rapidly getting out of hand.

She pushed against his chest, and he immediately released her. When she stood, her pussy was directly in front of his face. His hands went to her hips, keeping her there as he leaned closer. He nudged the scrap of white fabric aside, revealing her red curls. Her hands went to those big golden shoulders, but she didn’t push him away.

“What do you call that?” She tried to sound confident, but her voice shook.

“Cunt,” he growled. “Delicious cunt.”

She should have felt triumphant that she’d managed to get two consecutive words out of him, but she was too focused on that big head so close to where she needed him. He took a deep breath, an almost ecstatic expression on his face, then released it, the rush of warm air making her shudder as it reached her damp curls.

“Wet.” His finger traced a path through her curls, barely touching her, but she was so sensitized that she almost came from that single touch. “Always wet.”

His hands suddenly clenched on her hips, and she felt the faintest prick of his claws before he released her so quickly she almost stumbled.

“Food,” he said abruptly, turning towards the jungle. He took a step in that direction, then looked back at her over his shoulder. She was quite sure she was giving him an open-mouth stare.

He sighed and reached for his belt, and she wondered if he was going to take her, right here and right now. And why didn’t that thought terrify her?

To her relief—and disappointment—all he did was hand her the strap with his knife attached.

“Why? Are you leaving me?” The question tumbled out before she could prevent it. Dammit. She wasn’t going to beg him to stay.

He shook his head. “Protection.”

Her hand trembled as she took it. “Why do I need protection? Isn’t this place safe?”

“Yes.” He didn’t sound quite as reassuring as she would have liked, especially when he pointed to the snakeskin drying in the sun. “But…”

Great. Her hand tightened on the hilt of the knife. The idyllic spot no longer looked quite so idyllic.

“But you’re coming back, right?”

“Yes.” With one of his lightning-fast moves, he hauled her up against his body and brushed his lips against hers. “More language.”

And then he disappeared into the jungle, leaving her confused, annoyed, and extremely horny.