Duck Lake dife a ap kontinye

"it be some'ting i do alone," mireille purred, arching feline beneath his brushing cheek, centering herself not as someone to which he might refer, but herself, her flaring, burning self.
like the priest he was reverent, and the seawolf wound sinuously around him, not yet content to stand for his arms about her slender hips.
"but i hunger," came her whisper, the tugging of her teeth pulling a tangle from his shadowsmoke shoulder, tongue pressed for a ravening moment to the flesh beneath.
different too, this ache inside her at the particular moment. this interest.