Ravensblood Forest everybody’s gone in the cotton and the corn [m]

Cruddy post-work post. ♥

It pleased Lotte to taunt Ceannasach so. There was something infinitely satisfying about being the only wolf permitted to take such liberties. Abruptly, her moonbright eyes misted over at the open, trusting way Arturo revealed the column of his throat to her. “I do not know why I was so afraid,” she admitted, still positioned in a rather compromising manner, her breath teasing tantalizingly along his flesh. While it was true that instinct played a part in her urgency and her immediate need for Arturo, she was pleased to discover that her rationality had remained largely intact. “Come, rakas, let us make music together.”

Without further ado, Lotte turned her back toward the Fearghal, coal-colored tail drawing to the side to afford her mate better access. She didn’t think he needed further encouragement, but just in case, “Please, Arturo — I have missed you so,” she cajoled him softly. The songbird’s diminished constitution was wearing on her more than she liked to admit; the days of travel had worn her ragged, for she had pushed herself to her utmost to cover as much ground as she had. She determined not to say anything — she wanted children so badly! — unless her legs ended up too shaky to take his weight. Afterward, there would be plenty of time to rest. Suggestively, she tossed him a wickedly coquettish glance over her shoulder. “Perhaps I should make you chase me,” she threatened sweetly, wriggling her hindquarters at him as though she was preparing to take flight. She wasn’t, of course — but she did enjoy when he abandoned his gentlemanly ways. It was the gangster she wanted today; who could deny such bad boy charm?