Bitterroot Valley and i saw nothing here but you

It affects him more than usual; of course Zephyr has one on him regardless, able to spur intensities that none other have. Each touch leaves him wanting, leaves him needing. Skin tingling hyperaware of even the breaths that his mate takes. Kratos nuzzles, nipping and enjoying each kiss and bite that grows heated by the second. Wearing thin on patience, he slides forth, head aligned with his shoulders as he semi-circles—a nip first behind a large ear, then to the shoulder, top of his spine, and then, to Zephyr’s hip.