Bearclaw Valley “What am I to you?”

The same whine that fled past his lips soon left hers, too, sparking a sudden longing within him. He wanted her, for more than just play; the realisation brought his head back up and away from her chest just in time to meet her licks. The pace of his tail quickened, excited by her gesture, which he returned as he licked along her muzzle and the side of her face. The world around them faded from view, leaving nothing to distract him—it was just her, in that moment and beneath him, who held his attention and received his affections. But Alexander wanted more, he wanted all that she was willing to give him.

Another whine, low and drawn out by his excitement, exited the male’s mouth. He nosed through the fur surrounding her neck, licking and nipping at every point he touched; his nips were no longer playful, but filled now with unspoken desires and needs. He made an attempt at adjusting his stance over her, but the angle was strange and the positions felt unnatural. He did not know if she wanted the same as him, nor did he dare break the silence of their moment by asking, so he let his body continue to do the talking.

Nudging the side of her neck with a lust-driven growl, he urged her to turn over, to let him know if they were on the same page. But until then—if it were to happen—he settled for pressing his nose into her fur, inhaling and revelling in her scent.