Set had not been able to sleep at all. Her body against his had prevented any and all attempts. Instead he'd spent it petting her, her hair, her body, touching her skin, feeling her muscles with his fingers, tangling his mandibles in her hair. He'd been doing it for hours, waiting patiently for her to wake up. He'd purred the entire time he'd done it too.
He was anxious to show her his trophies. He wanted to see her facial expressions, and he wanted to smell her scent once she stood in his trophy room. A Yautja female would be immediately impressed, and her desire to mate with him would be strong. His trophy wall was his greatest asset, it was why he had fathered so many pups in his lifetime. It was not even close to being has impressive as his trophy wall in his palace on Prime, but it was still better than half the Yautjas he knew. He had a Queen skull on his ship, not many could claim as much.
Sara slept for a long time, exhausted he figured from whatever things her ooman mind was thinking. He was hoping her tears had not caused this exhaustion. It took all his self-control to not wake her prematurely. He was patient, he would wait for her to rise on her own. Set had once waited a week, crouched in a tree for a prey item to come to him. He could wait for the measly few hours it took for the female, Sara, to be rested. A well-rested female was a happy female, wise words once spoken by his sire centuries ago.
She finally stiffened on top of him not long afterwards, signalling she was awake. He fought the urge to purr for her and waited until she moved. His body had tensed up when she had reared up and was straddling his abdomen. She hid her teats for a moment before both her small hands touched his chest. Oh but he liked that. If she was lower, she could be riding him instead. He'd grabbed her thighs to stop her from moving when she tried to dismount him, he wanted to enjoy her sitting on him like this a little longer. There was no stopping his purring with arousal after he got that visual.
And that was when Set discovered something previously unknown to him. Without penetration, he was able to make her moan in pleasure. He had been surprised (in a good way) to find that her pussy against his abdomen could receive pleasure, a form of stimulant he guessed. He would have to look into this further when she would allow it. He sat up then and had pushed her against his body so that there was more contact between them. The juices from her wet cunt had covered him, she was more than prepared for him. He could have taken her then, but he had been fascinated by her. His large paw fully covered one cheek from her fleshy ass. He just prevented himself from digging his claws in.
She had turned a beautiful rose, her cheeks colouring with her weird red blood. Her eyes had darkened and she had panted his name. Something about the way she had said her nickname for him had caused his sheath to leak his lubrication, his cock had twitched and almost made an appearance. He would have kept going had a thought not occurred to him. If he kept her on the edge of the blade, she would want him to finish, or she would finish herself (he would watch). So Set had taken her right up until he was sure she was going to explode and he'd stopped abruptly. He'd stopped vibrating, and released her so that she could roll away from him.
He'd chuffed at her as she glared daggers at him. He'd asked her if she was alright in his language, forgetting that she couldn't answer him, but she did anyways. She had snapped at him that she was fine, it had made him laugh, her cheeks were still that blood red. She was irritable now, and anxious. Her eyes were locked on his movements, he could feel it. She had not received her pleasures just as he wanted and her ooman face let him know it.
Set had gone to his weapon wall deliberately, and had re-armed himself slowly, his paw touching his abdomen where her juices had marked him. He deliberately rubbed it into his skin, spreading her scent over himself as he latched his metal loincloth around his waist. Her scent was intoxicating to him. He wanted to taste her.
It was time to take her to his trophy room. He wanted her to see what he was. What he was capable of taking down. He wanted her to see him as a worthy male. She had come willingly enough, and he had slowed his gait so that he could see her when she entered his trophy room. He was glad for his mask, recording her reaction.
Her heart was beating frantically in her chest as she looked about the room in a daze. He had waited patiently, standing as straight and as tall as he could amidst his hard-won trophies. The Queen caught her attention. He purred with pride at her expression.
"Did you...Did you kill all these?" she asked looking at him, her fists clenching on her pelt. He nodded, slowly, deliberately. "Why are you…" he watched as she looked at the Queen's skull and shuddered before continuing, "Why are you showing me this?"
He stood silent, his head tilted curiously. He had not expected her to not know why he was showing her his trophies. He thought it had been obvious. He clicked at her, and was about to tell her when her eyes widened suddenly.
"Are you…" she stopped and he heard her heart rate increasing dramatically, before she started talking again, "Is this your way of…" she trailed off again, and he clicked at her, trying to get her attention when her eyes landed on the Abomination trophy. He was about to puff up with pride the next time she looked at him when she stumped him with, "Do you want me to draw you in here?"
His eyes narrowed behind his mask, and he purred at her. She looked so hesitant, the expressions on her face easy to read, yet impossible to translate. That she had started saying something and then changed the phrase, meant to him that she was scared. Scared of the words she wanted to say to him. He didn't want her scared or embarrassed in front of him.
He purred for her as he stood in the midst of his trophies. He wondered what ooman males did to attract their females, how they proved they were worthy of her time. He would do it. He could hunt any creature she demanded, even another Queen if she asked it of him, provide anything she wanted, be it shelter or food. He would not remove the collar though, not yet, not until they were on Yautja Prime, nor take her home.
Her eyes descended down his body and she swallowed when her eyes returned to his mask.
"Tell me." The female voice cooed from his mask. He wanted her to tell him what he needed to do to win her.
"Tell you what?" she whispered, staring at him, her tongue came out, licked at her lips in the nervous way he knew.
How could he ask her what he wanted without speaking? He growled to himself and muttered under his breath. He would have to use recordings, one word at a time.
"Want." He cut the recording of her voice on that one word.
"Want?" she repeated. He nodded slowly, his dreads sliding off his shoulder with the movement.
"Wolf. Want. Sara." He used her voice for every word, and waited, watching her intently.