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You had forgotten the most important detail about the planet.
Yautja Prime had three suns, thus burning the skin much sooner than it would on Earth. You'd been enjoying some time lying on a yautja towel in the glorious noon day. The surf came in smooth and calming.
Being trapped indoors every day tended to brew a cup of stir craziness, a desperate desire to breathe the fresh air and feel the direct sunlight. That instinctive need for vitamin D.
A most basic human behavior.
It was too bad Yautja Prime's sunlight roasted your back to the rosy crimson of a lobster shell. You'd hidden away in the cool dark shadows of your shared nest with Njohrr. Here was the only reprieve from the heat of the citadel, refreshing cool air.
Sleep eluded you, the heat of Yautja Prime's trio of suns clung to your tender skin as a constant reminder. You lay there suffering in silence.
The soft hiss of the door opening and shutting, along with a rush of hot air hitting your burned flesh, rousing you from the hazy edges of a restless sleep. You struggled to swallow a whimper, raking your fingers through the soft pelt beneath you. An involuntary shiver rolled through your body when your mate passed the bed.
Njohrr popped open a hidden compartment on the wall and rifled through it. All you could see of him was his white tendrils swaying about his back as he dug around for something. His cape and horned biomask had been removed and dumped on a table, revealing the smooth reddish-brown leather that covered his back. Soft clicking echoed around the room, filling the silence with the familiarity, before turning to you holding a wooden object in his hand.
It was small, wooden, and resembled a round, squat jar you'd find face cream in at a store. He left your peripheral vision and grew quiet.
"You had a lapse in awareness," Njohrr growled somewhere behind you. The soft flutter of fabric and metal hit the floor. "Your primitive mind is appalling in its grand capacity to forget."
You didn't bother to respond.
Instead, you lay in silence, waiting to see what Njohrr had in mind. His way of tenderness was rather unconventional to say the least.
You never heard his next move. The bed dipping down around your feet should've stirred anxiety in your nerves, but you were certain he'd never intentionally harm you. The way of his people were harsh and unyielding, but he'd softened to no one except for you.
Liquid dripping down your back drew you back to the present. Soft whickers punctuated each time more of it wet your skin in different spots. Each drop provided brief relief before the harsh sting quickly chased it away.
"Your flesh is so fragile that your cells inflate with liquid. How…detestable." Njohrr remarked without a shred of disgust.
The tip of a claw poked too deep causing your whole body to jolt. You whimpered again, no longer caring that you looked weak for doing so.
Next came a feathery caress of your ear with the blunt of a claw.
An apology.
As a creature who didn’t have external cartilage on their ears, yours were a constant source of fascination to him. In those quiet moments when it was just Njohrr and you, enjoying the nearness of one another away from his burden of duty, he’d expend his restless energy by petting the soft cartilage of your ears. He was a being raised to shred and maim with his claws, but with you, his chosen, he delighted in eliciting goosebumps instead.
Your breath was stolen when he touched your stinging flesh. This time, however, his palms were frigid and slick, the chill an abrupt gift of relief.
You melted into the fur.
His hands, those calloused, well-worked hands pulled away, only to return with a fresh coating of cooling gel soon after. Little sparks of electricity zapped your nerves as he spread the ointment over more of your ailing back. Slowly, your body began to tingle as the damaged skin was massaged, a bit roughly you admitted, with the medicine.
Heat began to nestle its way between your thighs in your core—a strange side effect that gradually rose in temperature. Your body felt hyper sensitive, as if you were experiencing touch for the first time after a long drought of solitude.
It felt so…good.
Njohrr was not blind of the senses to miss the effect the medicinal gel had on your body. He tasted your earthy scent thickening on his tongue with every rattling breath. You could feel it and knew he knew by the way his hands lost some of that awkward tenderness he tried so hard to maintain for your sake.
To verbalize his adoration for you would be weakness. Such a thing would bring challenges to his position and such would jeapordize your safety.
This, this tending to your sunburn, was his way of ripping his heart out and serving it to you on a silver platter. Your body was a trophy of the most delicate constitution. It required an alien gentleness that continually tested his meticulous and sometimes violent nature.
His fingers pushed just a little harder as he focused on your shoulder blades. The pain and the relief clashed aggressively, creating a tug and pull that began an awakening pulse deep within your core. You shivered under his touch.
Never before had pain been so…pleasurable.
Your fingers clawed the fur beneath you as you unconsciously pressed your rear against him, seeking relief that only he could provide.
“Be still, you wiggling creature of frailty,” Njohrr rumbled in your ear.
His voice ignited the fire begging to burn freely, desperately seeking the oxygen it needed to grow and spread. Through the fierce battle waging in your nerves, you gave in and grinded against him.
He withdrew with a rattling huff.
You faintly heard the distinct sound of metal sliding against metal but your attention was drawn back, back to his ministrations. His bulge rocked you into the bed, stealing a gasp from your lips. Soon, he spread the chilly gel over your hips, knowing perfectly well how to titillate you.
Njohrr grunted, his hips moving in time with the stroke of his calloused palms over your tender skin.
You’d never experienced anything like this. This tug of war as your nerves came in contact with the medicine, sparking like tiny electrodes down your spine, was confusing yet delicious. Soon, you were panting, your breaths warming the fur.
From this position, you were utterly at his mercy.
Your slit was growing wet, soaking the bed beneath you with each thrust of Njohrr’s hips. Through the thin material that covered your lower half, you could feel his big, turgid cock through his leather pants. Here and there you felt the soft pokes of his pubic bush drag against you. Just like his beard, it was course and scratchy, but at that moment you only moaned more.
He withdrew his hands before he returned with freshly coated palms of ice.
“Mmnnnnngghhh,” you drew a ragged breath.
Njohrr murmured behind you, “Missed a spot.”
His hands, those glorious skilled hands, squeezed your hips and pierced your skin with his claws. Fresh sparks of pain rolled through your nerves.
You hissed as the pain turned to pleasure.
The growing knot in your belly tightened sharply, pulling you near an orgasm. Handling the combination of pain and pleasure was mind numbing. Further and further you edged closer. You flexed your hands and buried your nose into the fur. Higher and higher the sensations carried you.
Njohrr pressed you into the bed with a firm push.
Your orgasm was fierce.
Scorching.
Your body drew taut and your toes curled as you nestled your rump against his bulge. He held you firm, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. You barely heard his clicking growl of his own completion above your whimpering. When you finally came down, you collapsed onto the bed.
Njohrr’s breath waffed across the hairs on your neck as he gave you another gift.
He swept his thumb over the nape of your neck, guiding you into a post-coital afterglow. You laid there, your body finally feeling relief enough to rest and drag you with it.
Njohrr sat on his haunches and watched you lie there with your eyes closed, finally at peace. After a few moments of watching you, he stepped off the bed and turned to clean himself, tucking away the burn ointment he lathered your back with. Redressing was fairly quick, and his body recovered, yet he came back to the bed.
A moth drawn to a candle.
One final word, the last part to play in his act, died on his tongue at the sight of you. You slept peacefully on the bed, having not moved from where you laid down.
Hidden in the privacy of your shared quarters, the scowl he wore softened as he watched you sleep. He stayed for a few minutes longer, greedily inhaling your scent before gathering himself, donning his mask, and leaving the room.
Only he was allowed to see you so vulnerable.
His precious living trophy.