Tuktu Hinterlands [m] bite marks

he watches her closely, his golden eyes half-lidded as she speaks, soft and breathless. the shudder of her breath, the look in her eyes—it stokes the fire in him, threatens to unravel what control he’s clinging to. her scent is maddening, clinging to him like a second skin, thick and heady in the cool night air.

he exhales slowly, trying to temper the heat that coils in his chest, in his blood. she likes it, she says, but the way she looks at him tells him what she really means. and he knows.

he always knows.

good, is his reply. nose coming to brush along the curve of her cheek, slow, lingering. he feels her tremble beneath his touch, and it sends a deep rumble through his chest, almost a purr. he shifts slightly, circling her as if to keep himself moving, keep himself from giving in too quickly.

every instinct told him to mount her now and make love to her beneath the falls. but his heart bid he take his time with her. her first heat; it should be special. special with him. he presses to her side as he comes back around, his forehead rubbing lovingly into her cheek fur. i wanna be gentle with you, dove.