Fairspell Meadow saffron's curse [m]

He was experienced only with the opposite gender, and on their soft curves is where he practiced the art of sensual touch that he now applied to this wolf, who beguiled him. His nervousness was born of instinct, a natural inclination to be wary of the unknown, for now they had reached a border Luke had never crossed. Not with another man. But the uncertainty was fleeting, soothed beneath Lasher's warm tongue and enticing words, replaced by more curiosity and want.

"Okay," he said softly, as his companion moved to nip his shoulder. He turned into him, pressing his muzzle beneath the other man's ear. Luke's blue tongue slid out to smooth the fur where Lasher's jaw met the curve of his neck. He shifted then, sharing the reluctantcy to break contact as he slowly pulled himself off of Lasher's chest, reclining beside him with a devilish smile.

"I'm all yours."