Finding what is lost

Every noise she made sent heat through him, flashes of warmth through his body. Noises passed his parted lips against his will, responding to her. She had nowhere to go, the wall was at her back, and he was at her front. His paws on her, around her, encasing her. That need pulled through him, and the willpower to continue his caresses and kisses was almost more than he could bare. But he held him back from taking her, egging her own, spurring her desire. He pressed his teeth to her throat, and brushed them up, and across the bottom of her muzzle.

Will it hurt? She asked, and he didn’t answer. Too busy tasting her. When her teeth dug into his shoulder, his breathing quickened to little gasps and groans. Feeling her teeth against his flesh. He pushed her back against the wall again, hitting her back against it hard. Hard enough to knock a little wind from her, and then hooked his paws against hers, dragging her to the ground so he was on top of her. He pressed his body down against her. She was so little, so fragile. So helpless against him. Will it hurt? his member pressed against her, not yet penetrating. He lowered his head, kissing her throat, her chest, her stomach. Will it hurt? He moved his head back to her neck, groaning softly against it. He didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want to be patient, or gentle, or kind. He wanted to take her, and take her, and take her. The heat that had been building against them for days, weeks, months had finally condensed to this moment.

He tucked his forepaws under her back, and then rolled. Putting his back against the cold floor, and resting her against his stomach. He kissed her nose, her muzzle, her throat. You're in control. Your move, Little Bird.” He whispered against her throat, alternating between nipping and kissing the flesh there.