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A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 114 из 338I stroked it, and I felt Sholto's gaze before I looked up tomeet it.
I stroked the outer skin of the tentacle again. "These are for hard work, lifting, capturing prey, or prisoners." I traced my finger on the underside of the tentacle, feeling the slightly different texture. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was thicker than human skin, almost rubbery, like the skin on a dolphin.
"I suppose Bhatar told you that." His voice was angry.
"Yes." I grabbed the base of the tentacle where it melded into his body. I pulled gently but firmly down the length of it. It wrapped around my hand, holding it, moving it away from him.
"Don't," he said.
"It felt good didn't it?" I asked.
He looked at me, so angry, so scared. "How do you know what feels good to a nightflyer?"
"I asked."
He looked startled then, and I was able to pull my hand free of him.
I touched one of the groupings of thinner tentacles. They retracted like sea fans when a diver brushes them below a coral sea. "Bhatar could do the most intricate needlework with his fingers."
I moved my hand lower, not quite touching the last visible line of tentacles. "These are very sensitive—they can be used for the finest tactile work, but they're actually a secondary sexual organ."
He looked startled. "We do not usually share that bit of information with outsiders."
"I know." I smiled. "Bhatar used to caress visiting ladies with them. They were often afraid to tell him to go away for fear of offending him, and offending my father. I noticed when I finally went back to court that the Host often caressed nonsluagh with the lower tentacles. It's a sort of in-joke that you all have on us. You touch us with what amounts to a breast, and we're none the wiser."
"But you know," he said.
"I like a good in-joke when I'm not the butt of it." I ran my hand in a long movement over that last line of organs.
His breath went out in a sigh. His eyes stayed defiant, protective. I didn't even blame him for it. I had enough mixed genetics in my own ancestors that there but for the grace of Deity go I.
I touched them gently, and they began to weave around my fingers. The ends were slightly prehensile, not nearly as much so as the upper ones, but there was a slight depression on one side of each of the tentacles. I stroked a finger into one of the depressions; it made him shudder.
"I take it that has a specific job if you're with a female nightflyer?"
He nodded, wordlessly.
"What can they do for me?" I asked the question for several reasons. First, I was curious.
I stroked the outer skin of the tentacle again. "These are for hard work, lifting, capturing prey, or prisoners." I traced my finger on the underside of the tentacle, feeling the slightly different texture. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was thicker than human skin, almost rubbery, like the skin on a dolphin.
"I suppose Bhatar told you that." His voice was angry.
"Yes." I grabbed the base of the tentacle where it melded into his body. I pulled gently but firmly down the length of it. It wrapped around my hand, holding it, moving it away from him.
"Don't," he said.
"It felt good didn't it?" I asked.
He looked at me, so angry, so scared. "How do you know what feels good to a nightflyer?"
"I asked."
He looked startled then, and I was able to pull my hand free of him.
I touched one of the groupings of thinner tentacles. They retracted like sea fans when a diver brushes them below a coral sea. "Bhatar could do the most intricate needlework with his fingers."
I moved my hand lower, not quite touching the last visible line of tentacles. "These are very sensitive—they can be used for the finest tactile work, but they're actually a secondary sexual organ."
He looked startled. "We do not usually share that bit of information with outsiders."
"I know." I smiled. "Bhatar used to caress visiting ladies with them. They were often afraid to tell him to go away for fear of offending him, and offending my father. I noticed when I finally went back to court that the Host often caressed nonsluagh with the lower tentacles. It's a sort of in-joke that you all have on us. You touch us with what amounts to a breast, and we're none the wiser."
"But you know," he said.
"I like a good in-joke when I'm not the butt of it." I ran my hand in a long movement over that last line of organs.
His breath went out in a sigh. His eyes stayed defiant, protective. I didn't even blame him for it. I had enough mixed genetics in my own ancestors that there but for the grace of Deity go I.
I touched them gently, and they began to weave around my fingers. The ends were slightly prehensile, not nearly as much so as the upper ones, but there was a slight depression on one side of each of the tentacles. I stroked a finger into one of the depressions; it made him shudder.
"I take it that has a specific job if you're with a female nightflyer?"
He nodded, wordlessly.
"What can they do for me?" I asked the question for several reasons. First, I was curious.