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

✹☾❂

 

Kincaid’s joke about her seemingly high expectations of him also elicited a giggle from the little shadow wolf, which, in a way, sobered her from the drunkenness of being kissed repeatedly. She was still the follower in their little dance, drifting on a cloud after her leader, subconsciously mimicking his moves and feeling his giddy energy subtly influence her own — but she was more of a willing participant, than simply a girl swept off her feet. Eleuthera looked up at him, big, moony eyes speaking volumes, as flashed him a knowing grin. Her words came back to her.

“Now that, I simply don’t believe,” she tittered, reaching up to lick the roadway fur on his cheek. She didn’t believe this because she was already overtly satisfied with him; happy that he entertained her desire for company that night, happy that he had come to see her now, and ultimately, supremely happy that he had missed her in the interim. Not that she would ever hope that her presence in Kincaid’s life would ever stifle him or cause him sadness, but it served as a reminder that she wasn’t alone in this thing. He felt it too.

Eleuthera continued to nibble at his cheek, as if taking a good taste of him. “I'm sure a man like you gets sweeter with time.” She knew this to be true as much as she felt her body and mind call out to him, hoping that he might find some small pleasure in them, during the time that he was willing to give her.

And, at long last, good-guy-Kink rose to the occasion. A part of her was more than willing to submit fully to the cowboy, to forsake herself so that she might be useful to another, but a different part of herself knew there was no rush in being consumed. It was a serious thing, to be completed between two serious lovers, and from his words, Kincaid seemed up to the task. Still, there was all this frenetic energy that had built up between them, and there was no place better to channel it than a hunt.

“Yes, please!” the sprite agreed amenably, almost as if relieved that they did not have to cross this bridge now. Her eyes, if Kincaid looked upon then, expressed gratitude.