Bramblepoint we steal fire from the heavens

Her laugh slayed him; he wanted to hear it any time life buried him in worries or duty. He longed to push his face back into the fur of her neck and draw in her scent, but she had position her head so that he couldn't get to it. And before he could plan out his next move, he felt her teeth on the fur of his chest. He laughed again, this time softer as her bites made his heart race and his skin heat. Then he reached down again and offered gentle nips to whatever he could reach of her cheeks and ears, hoping to extract another laugh from her so he could work on committing the sound to memory.