Hideaway Strath Oh, I just want to take him home

“I see,” The quiet rumble of accented, smoky timbre bears amusement and Arturo is glad that it does not betray the inferno that burns him alive from the inside. Ceannasach is far from a green boy when it comes to the estrus cycles. He bears a will strong enough to turn a blind nose to it — has done it when he chased a woman in heat from Teaghlaigh’s borders shortly after the pack’s conception. Yet, at the end of the day Arturo Fearghal is a man still and he has known that when Hemlock went into her’s that they would have one another and that makes a difference, he thinks. Make the siren call so strong that he would sooner drown then fight it. He feels the nip of her teeth against his hip and a shiver slithers it’s way down his spine. His flesh is heated beneath the melanistic fur that covers his svelte body, each wiry muscle pulling taunt as she circles him.

Arturo watches as Hemlock pulls from him to place a kiss upon Lotte’s muzzle and he manages to think through the haze that has consumed him that he should be sure to pay Lotte plenty of attention after Hemlock’s cycle has concluded, to assure his gangster queen that his desire and love for her is still just as strong as it’s always been. Both of the women before him have became so important to him, so crucial in keeping him sane. Without them he would be devastated. Without them he would surely be broken. To lose one of them would be to lose something vital in himself: a heart, a lung. Something he cannot live without. It had never been his intention because it had been no secret that he thought himself incapable of love. Yet, it came to be.

Hemlock comes into his embrace, and the tension in his muscles melt away as the gangster re-animates, drinking in her scent greedily. She smells of herself, of her cycle but of Lotte also. Her breath stirs his fur as she pleas …or rumbles to him — regardless he understands. He draws a line of kisses along her nape, teeth raking through the longer tendrils of fur there and detaches himself from her embrace to snake his body along the length of her’s, leaving small nips and kisses in his wake. When he reaches Hemlock’s hip he traces the supple curve with his muzzle, offering a nip of his own as she had done to him, letting out quiet rumbles of desire and softened purls of building pleasure. He is close to the source of her decadent scent now and it threatens to entirely bewitch him. The fire has begun to focus pointedly in his loins and he rounds so that his chest is almost against her derriére. He nips lightly at the junction of her tail and curve of her spine, smoothing his tongue over the fur he has ruffled there from his nip.

Hemlock is in charge of this. Arturo demands nothing of her. Hemlock is not a lover to take from: she is a woman that deserves to be worshipped, to be treated right: as Arturo does with Lotte.