Ravensblood Forest everybody’s gone in the cotton and the corn [m]

[table width=85%][tr][td]

The feel of Lotte preening the fur at the base of his ear elicited a sharp, rasping gasp from Arturo who was so easily re-intoxicated. Of course Lotte was always intoxicating to him but his desire to make love to her again and again is unfairly heightened by the succulent scent of hormones her body is giving off. He cannot help it any more than she can. Though he is strong enough to turn away the scent of heat when presented to him by other females (in fact he had done it soon after Teaghlaigh’s conception) he will not resist Lotte. She sang for him, her voice different than he remembered but far from unpleasant and he closed the fierce burn of his irises from the world as he let her words soothe over him like a lullaby though Arturo is far from tired. “It can be said any way that you prefer it but I have typically heard it said ire-liss.” He murmurs in honor of her request, slowing down his pronunciation of the name. In truth, he does not think there is a wrong way to pronounce the name and that, instead, it is simply preference.

Though he is attentive to the words she speaks Arturo finds it hard to concentrate as he feels her lips trace the curve of his ear. “I do believe I promised to give you as many children as you want.” Though neither of them could control the size of the litters they created together, they could always plan for more in the corresponding year. “I do not think I have heard that story, no, but perhaps we can save it for another day.” Arturo encourages not because he isn’t interested (for he could sit and listen to her talk all day long) but because the slow burn of desire has returned to his abdomen and he wants to quench it (though he knows it will return many times during her cycle). He can feel it writhe within him creating something that is partial impatience and partial frustration yet he listens as she tells him all that she has learned, knowing that they could announce her ascension to his side as Queen of Teaghlaigh after they had a few more tumbles in the metaphorical bed for his concentration slips once more and he finds it very hard to focus on anything else.

He rises shortly after she does and is more than happy oblige to her desires communicated not by words but by the nips she leaves on his hip and at the base of his tail. It would be a long day and an even longer night but there is nothing else Arturo would rather be doing than spending every second he could with her.

[/td][/tr][/table]