Kissing Skin

Mahlah quickly proved herself to be a surprisingly capable housewife, despite almost certainly never having stepped inside a home before. She helped with the cooking, learned how to sew, figured out how to wash clothes without being taught, and even did an above-average job cleaning. In just a few days she had effectively halved my workload. And to top it off, her presence literally radiated warmth.

There were only two issues.

The biggest - and most impossible to ignore - was her refusal to wear clothes.

“I’ve never needed clothes before,” she said flatly whenever I brought it up. “Why would I need them now?”

She was stubborn to the point of immovability. Every time I rounded a corner and got a full view of everything, my heart nearly gave out and my face heated enough to melt snow.

But… if I was being completely honest… it wasn’t all bad.

The real problems arose when the chill began to creep in. The moment I so much as thought the room felt colder, she would wrap her arms around me - or worse, insist I wrap my arms around her. Hugging her was always worse, because she very consistently wanted my hands to rest on her chest.

“Don’t be shy,” she’d say, dead serious. “It makes me feel good. And my magic likes it.”

No matter how the contact happened, touching her always triggered the same strange phenomenon: the temperature in the room would rise rapidly, even though Mahlah herself didn't get any warmer to the touch. I couldn’t figure it out, but to be fair there was a lot about her I couldn’t figure out. Whenever I asked - as she wanted me to - she would just shrug.

“It’s magic. Don’t think too hard about it.”

Magic was why the house warmed when we touched.

Magic was why the fire went out instantly the moment she stepped near it.

Magic was why her ears and tail would pop into existence whenever she got too excited or too flustered.

“Extreme emotions,” she explained, then winked.

“That’s why I get you to touch my breasts. It makes me feel good, and that’s what magic needs.”

I briefly wondered whether I could use magic. She shut that down immediately.

“No. Humans and other dumb animals can’t.”

It stung a little being grouped into “other dumb animals,” but I let it go.

Thanks to Mahlah’s help, everything got done twice as fast, leaving us with long empty afternoons stretching ahead of us. The snowstorm still raged outside with no sign of stopping. We ended up sitting together on the couch, the world beyond the window nothing but white.

Before I could ask her anything, she spoke first.

“Elam… something’s been weighing on my mind,” she murmured. “Why don’t you mind my infertility? I understand humans love children.”

I smiled softly.

“Maybe some do. But here? It’s impractical. I wouldn’t be able to devote time to giving a child a good future. I wouldn’t be a good parent.”
I looked at her. “Besides… I like the idea of being alone with you forever. It’s romantic.”

Her ears shot out from her hair as her cheeks flushed pink. She twiddled her fingers, flustered.

“R-romantic…”

Then she brightened, practically glowing.

“I like romantic!”

I smiled. She had changed so much since I’d met her. It was almost impossible to believe she had ever been called a man-eater. A sudden worry flickered through me.

“Uhm… Mahlah… what did you eat before I found you?”

She thought for a moment.

“Well, animals mostly. But I did steal livestock a few times when I got desperate.”

“No… no humans?”

She grinned.

“You believe those stories? No, of course not. That’s the Kowhao. At least in these parts.”

Relief washed through me.

“Are there more Amaroks around here?”

She shrugged.
“A few? No more than three apart from me in this forest, probably.”

Considering the forest stretched across the country, that wasn’t all that helpful.

“Then… how do you usually meet a mate?”

She grinned.

“Easy. We live long enough that our hunting grounds shift until we bump into each other. If we hit it off, we mate.”

A thought struck me.

“Have you ever… mated before?”

She shook her head.

“No. You are, and will be, my first.”

The will be made my heart stutter. Her smile widened.

“We can do that now, if you want.”

My heart immediately demanded professional medical attention.

“B-but… w-we haven’t even kissed yet!”

She smiled sweetly.

“That can be fixed.”

She scooted closer and leaned in. I hesitated for the briefest, most useless instant - but followed her lead. Our lips met.

Warmth.
Softness.
Comfort, and heat, and her gentle breaths mixing with my own.

When we pulled apart, it lasted less than a heartbeat. She swung a leg over me - ignoring her injury completely - and settled across my thighs, straddling me with no hesitation whatsoever.

“M-Mahlah… aren’t you injured?” I stammered.

She shrugged.

“No injury can keep me from this. And, by the way…” she leaned forward, her lips brushing mine again, “I love you.”

She didn’t give me the chance to reply.

Her mouth found mine again, eager and warm, our faces fitting together effortlessly as the magic between us - hers and whatever I was feeling - rose like a tide.