The Heartwood lustmord and wargasm

At last, Lasher began to eat the elk he had trailed for so long, and motioned for Luke to partake. Even if the white wolf had not been very hungry, the sight of the deceased elk and smell of warm blood instinctively implored him to eat, and he settled next to his dark companion to feed. He savored at length the first few bites, it having been over a year since he last tasted big game that was so fresh, as Lasher commented that he might take one of the tines to see for himself the pleasure in chewing they bring. "You should," Luke encouraged with a broad grin as his gaze shifted from the elk to the other male. "Who knows, you might wind up with your own stockpile like I had once you get a taste for them," he chuckled, before pulling another chunk of flesh from the monarch.

As his dark companion moved away to clean his jaws, Luke continued to fill his belly with meat, unaware of the feelings that brewed within Lasher, even as he cast him a brief glance. "I haven't eaten that good in a long time," he commented as he felt himself reach fullness, stepping back from the elk to clean his own jaws, though red still stained his fur when he had finished.