Hideaway Strath Oh, I just want to take him home

Jealousy!

Lotte could not have predicted the welter of joy and fury she now feels, and she paces restless circles around the mating wolves with moonbright eyes glittering feverishly. She is an inherently confident female and knows the depth of her husband’s love as well as she knows the wealth of Hemlock’s affection. She licks her lips as she watches Ceannasach grip the firebright nape between his teeth and hook his svelte legs before those supple, virginal hips — and finds herself dissatisfied with Hemlock’s guarded response.

Lotte is not shy about taking matters into her own hands; her mood changes with a swift snap! of a nonchalantly held whip. “Let go,” she urges in a silky, sinister tone, knowing Arturo to be nearly past the point of coherent speech. “You are ours and we are yours — you should sing for us, liekkikukka.” She nips teasingly at one cream-and-cinnamon feathered ear, bathing the woman’s face in kisses, preening at the fur along her too-silent throat. “Cry your pleasure — let me know it,” she whispers, tantalizingly drawing her tongue along the bulb of Hemlock’s ear. “Does it feel good? Or is there more you need?”

She leaves Hemlock abruptly to think about these matters, circling around their joined hindquarters — and although Arturo is a little preoccupied, Lotte seeks in her own way to add to his pleasure. She has never seen her husband from this particular angle, and although the jealousy lingers, she finds that the long, lean lines of his body are entrancing even when they are not used to her direct benefit. She nibbles at the base of his tail, licking up along his hip and what she can reach of his spine, being careful not to dislodge him — and then backs off a bit, allowing them some breathing space. She has every intention of leaving them alone for the duration of Hemlock’s heat unless she is directly called for — but this first time, she plans on being as active a participant as they will allow.