I Like The Way It Hurts

Cirrus knew nothing of the man's sister nor would she have cared if she did know. She was very much a 'live in the moment' kind of gal and this was a moment that she very much wanted to live in. The brute's gentle kisses belied his lack of experience and she found it almost sweet in a way. He'd been with one other woman but Cirrus could pretty much guarantee that this other woman wouldn't be anything like her.

The nameless man got right to the punch, once again showing a lack of finesse, but again, Cirrus didn't care. His paw slid over her hip, lining up their bodies and he slowly sank home. Experienced or no, there was no denying the pleasure of that initial thrust. The small woman dropped back to the sand, her back arching slightly and a moan pulling from her lips. Reaching up with both paws, she pulled the man down on top of her. Lips met his in a press and she opened her maw, taking his with it. Her tongue slid into his mouth and danced with his own. Pale claws pulled through the thicker fur of his ruff. She would let him adjust and then they would enjoy themselves.

The brutes groan was music to her ears and Cirrus smiled into their kiss. He moved gently, tentatively as though she would break. Was he afraid of hurting her? Poor, sweet man. Breaking their kiss, the woman brought her maw close to his ear, whispering sweet words to him. "Don't hold back. You aren't going to hurt me." The fae then nipped the brutes cheek, albeit lightly. "In fact, I prefer it rough. So whoever she was, do to me what you couldn't do to her." And with that, Cirrus rolled her hips up to meet his, her own pleasure filled groan filling the nighttime air. Whether those words would egg him on or not remained to be seen, but she desperately hoped that he would rise to the occasion.

"Cirrus"