Hideaway Strath If it wasn't for bad luck...

The adrenaline from the hunt coursed through her veins, perhaps that is why she was so elated, so ebullient. She found herself inviting the male closer willing to not only share in a meal but share in the very meat she had claimed as her own.

This was unlike her, she simply did not share. What was hers, was hers and that was that. He stepped so close she felt his warm meaty breath caress her drying fur and rather then feel like he was encroaching on her space, she felt something entirely different. She wanted to invite him closer somehow.

His voice rumbled close to her ear, his warm masculine accent sending a delicious shiver though her from ear tip to tail tip. She heard it this time, he called her dearest, darling, dear and yet not once had her name fallen from his lips, not that she minded, she found the monikers endearing.

She was beginning to see him as hers, though she barely knew him, in this moment, he was hers. There would be other days and times but in this moment this was the here and now. The Future and the Past were nothing, meant nothing in this place and time.

Hormones still flowing in her body intermixed with the blood from the liver sliding down her throat with each swallow as she continued to hold it aloft. “humm…” she grinned around the meat, her white blue gaze caught his; she was about to lunge away, when she saw something else in his eyes, her eyes reflected that lust but the game she had intended was still viable fun. She paused and raised her eye brows, maybe this might make the game more fun.

White teeth shone above the liver briefly, then she made and full and puppyish spin on the spot intending to perhaps startle him before she lunged away, landing so she faced him but with 6 feet between them. She couched readying her lithe yet femininely muscular body to match the opposite direction of any lunge he might make toward her. She tossed her head back lifting the trophy high, he’d not get any closer to her unless her won this game first.