"I am pretty dirty." I smile up at him, standing still so he can pull at the ties. "Days and days of dirt. It'll feel good to get clean."
He narrows his eyes at me and I can tell he's trying to follow along with my words.
I put my hand on a smear on his rock-hard abdomen and brush at it. "Dirty," I tell him. I rub at another stripe of dirt on his arm. "Dirty."
Rukh grunts. He peels open the front of my tunic, revealing my breasts. My nipples prick at the cold, and his gaze goes there. A hungry ache starts low in my belly, and I wonder if this is going to turn sexy. But Rukh just pulls the tunic off of me and then eyes my lower arms and the grime there. "Dirty."
Yeah, I am pretty gross. I suppose it's a good thing that we're not getting sexy…though to be honest, I'm less and less concerned with how I look around Rukh. I know he likes me no matter what. My hair could be a disgusting mop and he'd still think I was beautiful. It's a rather freeing feeling. I rub my fingers over his chest, because I'm tired and sore and filthy but I'm also getting turned on. It's been days and days since I've had sex with my mate and I miss it. I miss him.
Plus, the way he says “dirty” in that caressing way is pretty damn hot.
He's completely naked—like usual—and I want to run my hands all over him. I want to take his cock and rub those ridges until he's so hard that he's leaking, and then he'll lose control and fling me down onto the sand and we'll have hot, filthy sex.
Except the sand is pretty nasty, and my skin is, too. I sigh at the thought, because I'm sticky and a bit itchy. "Dirty dirty Harlow."
Rukh chuckles. He leans over and puts a soft leather rag into the water, swishing it like I do when I'm bathing. Then he pulls it out and presses it to my skin, a look of intense concentration on his face as he washes me. A girl could get used to this. I sigh happily, holding my hair up off my neck as he mops me with the lukewarm water. I try not to look at the trickles of water creeping down my skin, because I'm sure they're discolored and gross and I just want to focus on getting warm. "You wash me first and then I'll wash you," I tell my mate as he bathes my arm. "Sound good?"
"Rukh wash Har-loh," he says in a low voice, sliding that bit of damp leather over my skin. "Good, good."
He's definitely a fast learner. My nipples are tight and hard with need, and when Rukh turns to washing my front, I don't complain. It's not dirty—my tunic protected me from the worst of the grossness—but I desperately need his touch over my sensitive breasts. He grazes one tip and I suck in a breath, hot arousal flooding through me.
But all Rukh says is "dirty" and keeps washing me.
When I'm clean, I feel better. Much better. I'll wash my hair tomorrow, maybe, but for now it's enough to just be clean and sweet-smelling. I sigh happily as he tugs my filthy leggings off and then gets to work on the rest of me as I wash my hands and scrub at my nails. By the time he's happy with how clean I am, I'm shivering and wearing nothing but my boots, body chilled as the breeze dries my skin. It's Rukh's turn now, though. I take the small rag from him and soak it, then gesture that he should turn around. "Now I'll do you."
He doesn't even hesitate. Rukh presents me with his back, his tail flicking back and forth languidly, and when I touch him with the warm cloth, he makes a sound of pleasure in his throat. My body responds, my pussy growing wet as I wipe down his strong limbs. God, he's pretty. I'm so lucky to have him. Even our “issues” aren't big ones. We can't communicate all that well, we had to leave everyone behind and strike out on our own, but they seem like small things in the wake of having this big, gorgeous man at my side. I can forgive everything in this moment, which means I am super, super hard up for some sex.
The thought's an amusing one and I make sure to scrub at Rukh's skin as quickly as I can. The moment he's clean of gore and grime, I'm absolutely going to jump his bones. Part of me wants to turn this into a sexy sponge bath, but there's too much blue skin that needs to be cleaned and it's too chilly to loiter.
Unsexy sponge bath first, I decide, and then into the cave. Then we can be as sexy as we like.
I'm having a hard time sticking to my own plan, though. Rukh was naked as he helped me, which means he's dirty everywhere. It's hard to tell myself to wait and be patient when I have to towel off his perfect, hard buns. Or when I run the washcloth down each strong leg. As I make my way to his front, I notice he's not unaffected, either. His cock has stiffened and is standing proud and erect as I wash up his thighs.
Well, I just have to make sure he's clean there, too, don't I? It's my duty as a loving mate.
So I wet the rag again and take great care washing his sac and every ridge of that big, thick cock. I wash his spur, and then give a little sigh of disappointment when I work my way up to his chest. I'd rather stay between his thighs, but that won't get the rest of him clean. By the time I straighten to do his shoulders, he's watching me with a glittering, intense stare that takes my breath away.
"I think I'm done," I manage, tossing the rag into the last of the water in the pouch. "All good. Now—"
He shakes his head, trapping my arm before I can leave. "Har-loh dirty."
"Still?" I glance down at my body, holding my boobs to look at everything underneath. I'm not as sparkling clean as I would be in a hot shower, but I thought we'd done pretty good. I feel refreshed and good. I feel more than ready to have my mate touch me, which I couldn't say an hour ago. "Where?"
Rukh makes a noise in his throat and then leans over the fire pit, pulling out the towel again. He gives me a scorching look. "Rukh wash."
And then he drops to his knees in front of me.
I…oh. My breath comes faster, and I think about how much I enjoyed cleaning his cock, even though I didn't have to. Perhaps I spent a bit too much loving time on it and he got ideas in his head. Or maybe he just misses my touch as much as I miss his. Whatever it is, I'm not about to complain. "Rukh," I breathe, brushing strands of hair back from his face. "Where are you going to wash me, baby?"
He gives me a sly look that takes my breath away and then presses the warm rag right between my thighs.
I squirm at the feel of it against my folds. It feels good, warm and wet, but it's not what I want there. "Are you telling me I'm a dirty girl?"
"Clean Har-loh," he says softly, rubbing the cloth back and forth. The friction just gets me wetter, and I can't stay still. Not when he's that close to my pussy and when he's talking in that low, hungry voice. He's going to make me absolutely crazy with need. Rukh considers for a moment, then tosses aside the rag. He wraps an arm around my hips and pulls me close, until his face brushes against my stomach.
Then he growls and lifts one of my legs over his arm, spreading my thighs.
I squeak in surprise, reaching forward and grabbing his horns for balance. He doesn't stop, though, just hauls me forward until my leg is over one shoulder and my pussy’s practically in his face. "Rukh," I whimper. My pulse feels as if it's beating between my thighs, heat coursing through my body…and yet he's still not touching me. It's all still a big tease. "Am I clean enough for you? Or do you need a closer inspection?"