Sam's Secret (Icehome)

I wake up…and it is not all a dream. Sam's hands are on me, pumping my cock, even as her mouth presses to my chest.

"S-Sam?" I ask, uncertain. Her touch feels so good, but if she is not awake, I cannot enjoy it.

"I'm here," she whispers. "Let me touch you. You're so hard and aching. I can make you feel good, Sessah." She works my cock, her thumb stroking the underside as she moves her other hand down my shaft. "Let me take the edge off."

I groan, clutching at her shoulders. I should not touch her—I do not want her to feel trapped—but I cannot help myself. She moans, her arousal perfuming the air around us, and her fingers slip over the head of my cock, stroking the wetness there in teasing circles.

"So big. You feel so good in my hands." Sam's voice is reverent. "Never thought I'd enjoy touching you this much, but I'm addicted, Sessah. I can't get enough. Can I make you come?"

"Y-yes." My breath stutters as she works my shaft again, and my eyes nearly roll back in my head with pleasure. "Sam. Sam."

"I have you," she purrs. "You're almost there. I won't let you go. You can come, and come, and come."

I do—I come all over her hands again, my release boiling out of my cock as I clutch her to my chest. I come all over her pretty hands, all over her leather tunic, all over my belly and thighs. My release is endless, and my khui sings and sings to hers.

When I am done and shivering with the aftermath, Sam brushes her lips against my chest. "Thank you."

I want to laugh. Why is she thanking me? She made me feel incredible. Waking up to find that her hands on my cock was not a dream? I want every morning to be like that. "Can I touch you?" I ask. "Edge you like you edge me?"

"Oh." Her breathing shudders. "I…not yet. I'm not ready yet."

"But you need touching," I point out. "I can hear your khui." It is as loud as my own.

"I'm fine," she insists, ever stubborn, and gets to her feet. "I'll wash off and then we'll head out."

Head out? I am momentarily confused, and then I remember. "To look at the egg?"

"The pod. And I've decided we're going to let him free." Sam turns to me and gives me a faint smile. "I can't let my fear rule the rest of my life, or else Brad wins and he's under my skin forever. This guy doesn't know him, he doesn't know me, or you. We shouldn't treat him any different than we did Daisy. He deserves a second chance, just like the rest of us." She studies her hands, sticky with my seed, and as I watch, she lifts her thumb and licks it clean, and my tired cock stirs to life again at the sight. "And maybe once I get my head straight about that, I can get it straight on everything else."

"I will follow your lead," I offer, and I am not just speaking of the pod. Sam has control. Whatever she wishes, I will make it happen.

I wish the pod had disappeared in the night.

The wish is a foolish one, but I cannot help but think it. If it was gone when we arrived, Sam would not worry about whether or not she should open it. She would not struggle with her fear. Selfishly, we could be back in the cave, and I could have my head between her thighs, taking off her edges as she whimpers and breathes my name. We are close to that moment. I know we are. Every day, Sam trusts me more. Every day, she touches me more. Soon she will let me touch her.

I rub my thrumming chest, where my khui sings a loud protest. It is as if it does not like this any more than I do. I understand Sam's need to be fair, to treat this male with the same warm welcome that Day-see received. But another person means we must leave the fruit cave and take this male back to Icehome Beach. We must hunt him a khui so he can survive on our harsh planet, and that does not work with my plans. I want to keep Sam to myself for a while longer. I want to be greedy with her moments.

But this is what she wants, and because I can deny her nothing, I follow her lead. I carry our packs and spears as Sam moves through the snowy wastes, her fur-covered body nimble despite the angry song of her khui. I do not understand how she is not affected like I am. My steps feel heavy, my feet foolish and thick.

Then again, my steps might be uncertain because my head is full of Sam—Sam's hands, Sam's voice as she stroked my cock, Sam's scent in the air around me as I worked my length against her grip…