beast?" he paraphrased a well-known Familiar saying. She laughed, remembering the old motto. It was a happy note that echoed through the woods, making him smile.
He glanced at her from beneath veiled eyes. “There is another saying. . .”
“And what is that?” She grinned.
“The hand that slays your beast owns your beast. . .”
She chuckled. “I hardly think I am in any danger from that.”
"It is because you are at ease with me." She grinned. "Perhaps I am, and–" She stopped abruptly.
"And?" he prodded.
"It is well know that Familiar men adore women to the point of distraction. I hardly think you are any danger to me or my beast. Whatever that is."
"There are many types of danger," he intoned in a voice that sent shivers up her spine.
"For others. Not for me."
"Why do you think that?" he drawled as he methodically backed her into a more secluded corner of the pond.
"I have nothing to lose," she whispered.
"We all have something to lose, Softcat ."
Ready to prove his point, his mating scent thickened the air. It drenched her, elevating her desire to couple with him. A male Familiar’s discrete mating scent was a powerful aphrodisiac. Snow could now attest to the truth of that. Salair's exotic scent was a cool breeze winding seductively through snow-kissed trees.
Like an icy sting of fresh air on a snowy day, it awakened her passion. How ironic that an intrinsic part of his attractive scent evoked a vision of her name. . . As if he were the force that quietly flowed through her.
Like a silent storm and its snow.
Salair cupped his hands together, filling them with water. Raising his arms, he slowly let the cool liquid slide down his forearms to drip onto her breasts.
The continuous flow of droplets sluiced over the rounded globes, branching and spreading out in its path back to the pond. The silvery moon rays illuminated each perfect pear-shape and set the droplets to glow as they cascaded over the mounds and dripped off the dusky tips. Salair began to purr low in his throat as he watched the sensuous display. Not for the first time he rued the fact that she herself could not witness her own exquisite beauty. Especially on this night.
Her long hair spread across the surface of the pond, floating around her like a lustrous cloak. Even wet, it was remarkably luxuriant. A thick swath clung to her breasts, across her stomach, and draped enticingly over her right hip. Her long, pale lashes glowed with droplets of the sparkling water beads.
Snow's damp skin appeared almost translucent in the night. The cool water produced a perfect crest on the dusky nipples that stood at attention as the liquid caressed and cascaded over them.
She moaned gently at the fluid sensations of the cool water.
"They say that losing one sense can greatly accent the others," he murmured softly as he observed her strong reaction.
"Is that possible?" she wondered.
He quietly scooped up another handful of water, sending it tumbling over her. "Did you know that Familiars can accentuate their senses at will?"
She blinked, startled. "No, I had no idea. Then this intense feeling . . . is normal?"
He smiled crookedly. For one about to be mated, yes. "That is hard to say, Softcat . I would like to think I could gift you with all manner of these "intense feelings" if you would consent to allow it. And. . . that such gifts could be bestowed whether you had your sight or not."
Her hand came up and clasped his wrist. "What do you mean?"
"You set yourself apart too much, Snow. I shall give you pleasure, and I can assure you that this pleasure will not be hindered in any way by that which hinders you." Her face flamed. The man was rather blunt. "What makes you think I would welcome such intimacies?" She had meant to allow him a few kisses and caresses–nothing more.
Snow's words struck a warning to him, so his focus narrowed. The flicker of his eyelid was the only indication that his senses had picked up a disturbing revelation. She
He glanced at her from beneath veiled eyes. “There is another saying. . .”
“And what is that?” She grinned.
“The hand that slays your beast owns your beast. . .”
She chuckled. “I hardly think I am in any danger from that.”
"It is because you are at ease with me." She grinned. "Perhaps I am, and–" She stopped abruptly.
"And?" he prodded.
"It is well know that Familiar men adore women to the point of distraction. I hardly think you are any danger to me or my beast. Whatever that is."
"There are many types of danger," he intoned in a voice that sent shivers up her spine.
"For others. Not for me."
"Why do you think that?" he drawled as he methodically backed her into a more secluded corner of the pond.
"I have nothing to lose," she whispered.
"We all have something to lose, Softcat ."
Ready to prove his point, his mating scent thickened the air. It drenched her, elevating her desire to couple with him. A male Familiar’s discrete mating scent was a powerful aphrodisiac. Snow could now attest to the truth of that. Salair's exotic scent was a cool breeze winding seductively through snow-kissed trees.
Like an icy sting of fresh air on a snowy day, it awakened her passion. How ironic that an intrinsic part of his attractive scent evoked a vision of her name. . . As if he were the force that quietly flowed through her.
Like a silent storm and its snow.
Salair cupped his hands together, filling them with water. Raising his arms, he slowly let the cool liquid slide down his forearms to drip onto her breasts.
The continuous flow of droplets sluiced over the rounded globes, branching and spreading out in its path back to the pond. The silvery moon rays illuminated each perfect pear-shape and set the droplets to glow as they cascaded over the mounds and dripped off the dusky tips. Salair began to purr low in his throat as he watched the sensuous display. Not for the first time he rued the fact that she herself could not witness her own exquisite beauty. Especially on this night.
Her long hair spread across the surface of the pond, floating around her like a lustrous cloak. Even wet, it was remarkably luxuriant. A thick swath clung to her breasts, across her stomach, and draped enticingly over her right hip. Her long, pale lashes glowed with droplets of the sparkling water beads.
Snow's damp skin appeared almost translucent in the night. The cool water produced a perfect crest on the dusky nipples that stood at attention as the liquid caressed and cascaded over them.
She moaned gently at the fluid sensations of the cool water.
"They say that losing one sense can greatly accent the others," he murmured softly as he observed her strong reaction.
"Is that possible?" she wondered.
He quietly scooped up another handful of water, sending it tumbling over her. "Did you know that Familiars can accentuate their senses at will?"
She blinked, startled. "No, I had no idea. Then this intense feeling . . . is normal?"
He smiled crookedly. For one about to be mated, yes. "That is hard to say, Softcat . I would like to think I could gift you with all manner of these "intense feelings" if you would consent to allow it. And. . . that such gifts could be bestowed whether you had your sight or not."
Her hand came up and clasped his wrist. "What do you mean?"
"You set yourself apart too much, Snow. I shall give you pleasure, and I can assure you that this pleasure will not be hindered in any way by that which hinders you." Her face flamed. The man was rather blunt. "What makes you think I would welcome such intimacies?" She had meant to allow him a few kisses and caresses–nothing more.
Snow's words struck a warning to him, so his focus narrowed. The flicker of his eyelid was the only indication that his senses had picked up a disturbing revelation. She
Similar Books
Nellie (The Brides of San Francisco Book 1)
Cynthia Woolf
Crime Stories
Jack Kilborn
Statistics for Dummies
Deborah Jean Rumsey
Until the End of the World (Book 2): And After
Sarah Lyons Fleming
The Republican Brain
is Mooney
Escaping Life
Michelle Muckley
Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2)
Tyrolin Puxty
Safe With Me
Amy Hatvany
Heil Harris!
John Garforth