Bearclaw Valley “What am I to you?”

Each whine struck a chord within him, making him want her more and more. He had never been attracted to her before now, her attitude pushing him away and making it hard to find out what was going on inside her mind. But things were entirely different now—he liked this Laurel immensely, as playful and alluring as she was. And as she turned over for him, a pleased, throaty rumble emerged from the male’s chest. Did this mean she wanted the same as he did? Would she let him take her? Questions raced through his mind, though each were answered and new ones prevented from being created when her whine reached his ears.

She wanted him with her.

Alexander adjusted himself again, forelimbs planted firmly on the ground on either side of her body. Slowly, he pulled his limbs together, hooking his paws around her waist and lowering his caudal region to be flush against her own; it was awkward still, his body crouched down lower than what he was used to, but he made it work. He directed a few soft nips along her back and between her shoulder blades, then lingered at her scruff. Whilst he usually would have taken the loose skin between his jaws, he instead craned his neck so that the side of his muzzle was pressed against her cheek, getting as close to her as he was physically capable of.

And then, should she not object, he’d become even closer yet, driving himself into her.