Hushed Willows as spring opens (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

Kin's eyes twinkled merrily at the idea of the girl's wrath being visited upon Easthollow. He thought that Eleuthera might be almost of comparable size to Valette, but somehow, he knew where he would be putting his money. Of course, he did not say this to his diminutive friend.

Of course, he was a worldly man. Perhaps more worldy than her. He did not miss the subtle hints that she was sending him, suggesting that she might like him to take a few more liberties. In truth, he enjoyed this stage too much to rush ahead. These things would only be new between them for as long as they allowed them to be, and while Kincaid had the time, he was inclined to bask in it.

There was another reason to wait that he tried his best not to acknowledge — the ruddy male hoped that, if he refrained from making deep and sacred memories with Eleuthera, he would not have so much to dwell on and pine for when she eventually tired of him. Only time would tell if this was a fool's errand; he had, after all, no romantic memories of Nine Lives, and he still pined for the other male day and night.

Regardless of his intentions, when Eleuthera offered him the pretty column of her throat, Kincaid could only oblige her. "Hm," he said, pushing his nose into her fur until he could feel the heat of her skin. Her question, though he meant to answer it playfully, was quickly forgotten. He hooked a gingerly foreleg over her shoulders to drag her against his chest, and spent a few happy minutes covering her neck and throat in his scent, combing teeth through her fur and nipping delicately at her skin.