Totoka River I'm tongue-tied and dizzy

She wound herself into his pantherine form. Pressed into every place she could as she sought to mark him once more in her scent and also mark herself with his. A vibrated, needy whine hummed out of her throat at the mere sight — the feel — of him here.

She had worried that she might not have found him again. Granted she had not imagined he would have arrived so close to where she remained these days. It drew questions from her that she was, admittedly, not articulate enough to formulate for him.

She fell back on what she always did. Body language. Her own spoke of tremendous levels of excitement and a desire for more of his presence.