Blackfeather Woods i am—yet what I am none cares or knows;

Cicero had never cared for what the world thought and he was not to start now. It did not even occur to him that anyone may see them — let them see, let them think, he did not care, did not think of it. It was only her and her scent that he drunk in. She did not need to urge him on much before he chose to take action. There was a primal growl bubbling in his throat that spoke of his desires for her and though he did not really understand them he allowed them to happen and allowed them to take him over for the moment.

At her silent permission Cicero did not waste time to mount. A foreign feeling for him, for he had done it only once before and then with different intent, in a different situation.. Except, of course, what he had done to Potema but those memories were too wazy for him to remember. His body remembered, however, for he soon found his footing and wrapped paws 'round her middle while laying his head in her neck, where he nipped at the frays of her fur almost lovingly so.

maybe we could fade? or if you want just fast forward to post-sex? i'm never v good at this stuff. ˆˆ'