WARREK

I am impatient for the day to be over.

Not because I weary of traveling. Not because the sled is heavy in my hands and grows heavier with every valley crossed. All of these things are true, but I have endured such things in the past and know that it is something easily borne. Not because I am ready to return to our chief and deliver the worrisome news to him—I am not looking forward to that part.

I am impatient for the day to end because I want to take to the furs with Suh-mer again.

The hunger to touch her is like a craving inside me, and it grows stronger with every day that passes. I find myself walking faster despite my heavy burden, just so I can hear the light, cheery tones of her laughter. I watch her figure as she walks, noting the sway of her hips with fascination. There is no tail to distract from the curve of her bottom or the way her body moves. Her mane flutters in the breeze, and I remember what it felt like against my skin, and my cock grows uncomfortably hard at the memory.

Mostly I think about last night and the soft noises she made when I kissed her. Even with my tongue slicking into her mouth, my lovely Suh-mer could not keep quiet. The hungry, breathless moans have haunted me all day. It makes it impossible to think of anything other than what will happen tonight. Will she welcome me back to her furs so I can touch the small buds cresting her teats? Will she let me kiss her more? Or will she be too shy around the others?

I do not want that to stop us from enjoying each other, I decide. If I must, I will pull her away from the others, if only to selfishly fulfill the need I have for her.

I crave the fragile, beautiful human. It is startling to me, but it also feels very right. I have been waiting for her, it seems. Now that she is here, and that she has shown interest in me, I do not want to wait any longer. Not for resonance, not for our journey to end, none of it. I want Suh-mer, and I do not care who knows of it.

Thinking of her and how I will touch her this upcoming night brings fierce pleasure, and I spend hours deciding how I shall touch her. Under her tunic, or shall I strip it off of her? Will I take the time to explore her with my hands, or shall I do so with my mouth? Can I use my tail to please her? What spots on her body will she like for me to touch other than just her teats? I wish to know everything.

I see now why my father was so broken over my mother’s early death.

My father.

I have not thought of Eklan in at least a day or two. It is strange to realize that. I have grieved him, and grieved him deeply, since the day that he passed. I thought I would spend every day of the rest of my life aching for family, for all that I have lost. But with Suh-mer’s bright, inquisitive presence, I no longer feel as alone as I did. I am sad for the loss of my father, but I no longer feel hollow that he is gone.

I wonder what he would have thought of Suh-mer, and I try to imagine what he would tell me if he met her. The thought is a…sobering one. Never take a pleasure-mate, I remember my father telling me once. If you can spare yourself the pain of loss, do so. A pleasure-mate is a temporary thing—any female will go on to true-mate another hunter, and then you will be left alone. And that, my son, is the worst thing imaginable.

My father would not approve, I realize with dismay. He would wish for me to avoid entangling myself with the lovely human, only so I would not be hurt when her khui chose another for her. He struggled far too long with the loss of my mother to ever see a mating as anything but the greatest pleasure—and the greatest of pain.

It is a pain he wanted me to avoid.

I should heed the wisdom of this but…I do not want to.

More than anything, I want to claim Suh-mer. I want her more than I wanted my first spear or a cave to call my own. I want her more than I want the next sunrise.

Even if it means I will live a miserable existence when she moves on from my furs, I will take that chance. Walking away without possessing her now is simply not an option. Not any longer.

* * *

We travel slower than expected that day, and by the end of the evening, there is no hunter cave in sight. It will be another night without a fire, though no one grumbles about it. A small blind canyon is chosen for our camp site that evening so we can sleep protected from the worst of the wind. Like the night before, everyone eats a quiet dinner of trail rations, splits a large piece of fruit, and then it is time to sleep. Rukhar curls up with Kate’s little snow-cat, and the white-maned human does not seem to mind. She pulls a blanket around her shoulders, drags Harrec underneath it, and says no more.

I watch as Bek tucks his mate tenderly against him, a mountain of furs over her slender form. Vaza has buried Shail likewise, and only Suh-mer seems to be sleeping alone. She hesitates, then looks over at me, a question in her eyes.

But I have first watch this night. I move to her side, pull a thick fur wrap around her shoulders, and lean in to whisper. “I am on guard first this evening. Join me?”

She nods and gets to her feet, toting her light-spear with her as she follows me to the entrance of the canyon. We set up a short distance away from the others, and then I gesture she should sit on a nearby rock. She does, and I sit next to her, and we share blankets, watching the stars.

All is quiet between us, and even Suh-mer’s normally endless chatter is gone. I want to touch her. My fingers—and my cock—ache with the need of it, but I dare not. Now, more than ever, the need for a watch is essential, and I will not put my need above the safety of others.

Despite my hunger for her, the evening passes pleasantly, and I am almost surprised when Harrec approaches and puts a hand on my shoulder. “My turn to watch,” he says, yawning. “Go and sleep, you two.”

Suh-mer gets to her feet, hugging the blanket around her shoulders, and looks expectantly up at me. I think for a moment and then put an arm around her and turn to Harrec. “We are going to take a few private moments.”

He snorts and gestures a short distance away. “There’s a smaller blind canyon in that direction. I’ll keep an eye for you there, too. Just try to be quieter tonight than last night.”

“You suck,” Suh-mer tells him, but she slips her hand in mine. She wants to go, too.

We head to the spot Harrec told us about, and I set down the fur draped over my shoulders so she can have someplace to sit other than the snow.

Suh-mer shivers a little and watches me.

I worry this night is too chilly for her or she is too tired. “Do you wish to go back?” I ask.

“Not yet,” she says softly, and moves forward and puts her hand on the center of my chest, over the hard plating that covers my heart. “I want to be with you.”

I have been waiting all day to hear such sweet words. I drop to my knees and pull her down with me, until we are together on the fur and her legs are draped over mine. She is practically in my lap, her teats pressing against my chest.

Nothing has ever felt so very right.

Her arms go around my neck, and she wiggles a little. “Should I move? Am I uncomfortable?”

“You are perfect,” I tell her, and my hands go to her waist. She is so small compared to the females of my tribe; the tunic she wears has been taken in at the sides, the seams thicker where the leather has been re-cut and reworked. I worry that I am too big to touch her without hurting her. Yet the others have taken human mates happily, some smaller than Suh-mer. Perhaps that is just my mind working against me. “May I touch you?”

She blows out a nervous breath, and it turns into a small laugh. “I thought that’s what we were out here for.”

“It is.” I feel an urgent need to get this right, though, to make sure she wishes to return to my furs time and time again. Kissing her once was not enough. Twice only whetted my appetite for more. I want to touch her over and over again, explore every bit of her skin and see how I can make her gasp.

I must know more about her and her body. I touch her cheek, then smooth my hand down her shoulder, under the furs. “Tell me about humans.”

“Uh, about humans?” Her brows furrow, and she tilts her head. “Well, we’re about five feet tall, we have five fingers, and we’re really bad at recycling. We like terrible movies and terrible fast food and equally terrible celebrities.”

She speaks of nonsense things, and I can tell from the high pitch of her voice that she is nervous. My desire to make sure that I please her is making her uncertain. I must be clearer about what I mean, then. I put my hand on her thigh and rub, caressing up to her hip. “No, I wish to know what pleasures you.”

“Oh.” Her voice is very soft. Her gaze focuses on my mouth. “What, like clits and G-spots and stuff?”

“Those things, yes. All things. I want to know how to make you gasp when my hands are upon you. I want to know which touches make you shiver in a good way. I want to know how to make your body tremble until you break with the intensity of it.”

“Wow,” she breathes. “Those are a lot of words for a quiet guy. Might be the most you’ve ever spoken to me.”

I continue to rub her rounded bottom, still fascinated after all this time by her lack of a tail. “It is because it is important. I wish to get it right.”

“What we’ve done so far is pretty good,” Suh-mer tells me, leaning closer. “I’m not an expert, of course. This is new for me, too. But I do like kissing, so we can do more of that, and maybe we can go from there. Unless you want a strategy to go about things, in which case—”

I cut her off, placing my mouth over hers in a firm, possessive kiss. Mouth-matings, most in my tribe call it, but to her, it is always a kiss. A she-spot and a clit, she also mentioned. I will remember these things. I want to know all that her body will crave, because I want to give it to her.

No female will ever be so well-pleasured as mine.

I pour everything I have into the kiss. I cup the back of her head, holding her close as I mate my tongue to hers. Previously, I was gentle, cautious with my kisses. This time, I hold nothing back. I drag my tongue along hers, slicking it against the smooth softness of her mouth. Even here, she is different—in so many pleasant ways—than I am.

Suh-mer makes that soft, needy noise in her throat, and my cock throbs in response. I feel a fierce surge of pleasure that I can make these sounds come from her, and I crave them as much as I crave the endless stream of her thoughts. Her scent is in my nose, her skin against mine, her slight form perched in my lap, and my senses are full of everything that she is.

No moment was greater than this.

Over and over, I slick my mouth to hers, consumed by urgency. Our time out here is limited, and even though I want nothing more than to leisurely explore her, I must bring her back to the others soon enough. Until then, I will take everything that I can.

She moans against me, and her weight shifts in my lap. Just that small movement causes her to rub up against my cock through the layers of my leathers, and it is as if I have been struck. I groan aloud, my hands tight in her feather-soft hair, and I press my forehead to hers, trying to compose myself.

“Warrek,” she pants, her hands plucking at my shoulders. “Don’t stop touching me. Please. I need more.”

“I am not stopping,” I vow to her. When her needy, sweet mouth moves over mine again, I drag my tongue over her lips and then ask, “Tell me I can remove your tunic and touch your skin.”

She shivers, another breathless little moan escaping her. “Yes. Do it.”

We break apart, and I grab the hem of her tunic. She raises her arms over her head, and I drag the leather over her head, then toss it aside as her beautiful form is revealed to me. Suh-mer shivers in the cool air, and I take one last, hungry look at the lines of her body before I pull her against me, warming her skin with my own. Soft. She is so soft everywhere. There is no protective plating on her body, no hard muscles on her form. She is all golden curves, her small teats thrusting upright from her chest. When she rubs her body up against mine, I want to lose myself in how good it feels to touch her and hold her against me. I slide my hands up and down her back, admiring how delicate she feels. “Too cold?”

Suh-mer shakes her head. “Your hands are warm. It feels good.” She puts her arms around my neck again and boldly presses her front to mine.

“Tell me where to touch you.” I cannot stop stroking her soft skin. “What places would give you the greatest pleasure?”

She squirms at my words, whimpering. “You’re going to make me say it aloud?”

“Why would I not?” I lean in, unable to resist the curve of her jaw. I nip my teeth against it, and she trembles against me. “What is wrong with admitting what you like?”

“Nothing, I suppose. It’s just very…bold for me.”

“Are you not bold?” I tease along her jaw with small nips, stroking her back with my hands as I do so. “This is the female that took a light-spear and defeated several enemies. She risked burning her face and hands to stop the others. She rushed into the ship to protect me. Are these not the actions of a bold female?”

She moans and then drags her teats against my chest, her nipples scraping along my front. “Okay, you’ve got a point. Touch my breasts, then. Play with my nipples. And the undersides, because they’re ticklish, too. Or, you know, just all of them. I’m not picky. Anything you do in that area will feel really good.” Her words rush out. “But I really like it when my nipples are touched.”

“I shall do all of that,” I promise her. I slide my hands to her front, cupping her teats like she has requested. She is small here, unlike some of the other human females, but they are bouncy and rounded and jut forward, unlike the flat teats of the female sa-khui. I decide that I like hers much better, especially the noises she makes when I touch them. I use my fingertips to lightly explore her, and it seems impossible, but her skin seems even softer here. I caress the rounded slopes of her teats, brushing over the undersides like she has requested, and she closes her eyes and sucks in her breath, her face tight. Her dark nipples are small and tightly budded, and I touch them, expecting them to be hard. They are taut, but just as soft as the rest of her, and this fascinates me. I stroke them lightly, and she makes a choked sound in response.

“Oh my god, you’re killing me.” Her nails dig into my shoulders, and she squirms in my lap, arching her back. “Warrek, please.”

“Is this not what you want?” I whisper, a teasing note in my voice. I like her writhing and the tense look on her pretty face as I touch her. I stroke her nipples with my fingertips once more, and she practically shoves her teat into my hand with a whimper. “How can I make it better?”

She shifts in my lap, pressing higher. “Bite them.”

Bite them? Take her teats into my mouth and nip at them like I did her jaw? It is a bold request, and one that nearly makes me spill in my loincloth. I groan low, holding her tight to me. “You wish for me to put my mouth on you?”

“Not hard,” she says quickly, squirming against me. She arches again, and I realize she is trying to press her teats toward my mouth.

“Never hard,” I agree. I would not injure her for anything. The thought of dragging my tongue over those soft, impudent little nipples has my mouth watering, though, and I lie back into the snow, pulling her over me until she straddles my chest. I put a hand to her lower back and guide her forward, but Suh-mer does not need encouragement. She thrusts her teats into my face, making little noises of pleasure.

How could any hunter resist such a temptation? I pull her down against me and put my mouth on her. At the brush of my mouth against her skin, her cries grow louder and she moves her torso back and forth, dragging the tip of her teat against my parted lips. I growl low in my throat at this tease, and anchor my hands against her, holding her still so I can nuzzle the delicious little bit of flesh. Her scent is incredible, the air perfumed with her arousal, obvious even through her leather leggings. I slide my tongue along her nipple, letting the ridges flick against her skin. She shivers and cries out, wild in my arms.

I love how fierce she is in her need, how she grabs a hold of my horns and pushes her teats against my mouth, demanding attention for them. She is the perfect female, my Suh-mer, and I am filled with a possessive lust for her. She is mine. No other male will ever touch her like this.

“Your mouth,” she pants. “So unfair.”

I growl low, because I want to drag her hips down to my cock and press the hard heat of my arousal against her cunt. She wants unfair? I want to be deep inside her…but the need to pleasure her overrides everything. “Shall I stop?” I ask between licks, nipping at her teats and careful not to use my fangs.

“Noooo.” Suh-mer moans and then slides down my chest. She claims my mouth in a fierce, tongue-tangling kiss. “I just…need a moment.”

I return the kiss, licking and teasing at her full mouth like I did her teats. She shivers when I nip at her lower lip, and I decide she’s had long enough to rest. “Tell me how I should touch your…” I think of the things she told me. “Clit.”

Her moan is low and desperate, and she closes her eyes. It is almost as if the thought is too much to bear.

“Where is it?” I ask between kisses. “Show me, and I shall caress it.”

Suh-mer’s mouth is desperate on mine, as if she wants to tell me but cannot bring herself to do it. I do not understand this shyness, but now I want to touch her in her favorite spots more than ever. “Is it near your cunt?” I ask, guessing. Humans can be shy about such things.

Her little moan tells me that I have guessed correctly. I remember Vektal and a few of the other mated hunters mentioning a third nipple. “Between your folds,” I murmur, and she nods, burying her face against my neck. “Will you like it if I touch you there?”

“Yes,” she chokes out.

“Then I shall do it.” I hold her against me and roll our bodies on the furs until she is under me. Her leather leggings are drawn up and knotted at the waist, and when I tug at the string, they fall open, loose on her slight form. Her belly quivers as I skim my fingers over her navel, and then I pull her pants down lower, exposing the tuft between her thighs. The scent of her arousal envelops my senses, and my mouth waters. I hunger to touch her more, to taste her. They say there is no sweeter flavor than a resonance mate on a hunter’s tongue, but I suspect that Suh-mer will taste just as sweet. I do not think I could want a female more than I want her in this moment, and I slide my hand down to my cock, pressing against it to force my arousal down. Right now, what is important is her and learning to pleasure her. My pleasure can be ignored until later, and if she is not ready to mate, I will take myself in hand and relieve the need. I will not rush her.

Everything will be as she wants it.

Suh-mer gazes at me with hungry eyes, sucking in her breath as I let my fingers trail down her stomach. I will not rush this, since the anticipation is part of the sweetness of the moment. I love the noises she makes as she waits for my touch, breathless and keening and impatient all at once. Even though she is not speaking her thoughts aloud, I can guess them by the sounds she makes, and they guide me as much as any spoken word. She trembles as I move my hand lower, and I stroke her curls lightly. “Show me where your clit is, or shall I find it?”

She makes a noise in her throat and closes her eyes, then slides her thighs apart in a way that is both shy and bold all at once. I watch, fascinated, as she spreads her legs, revealing her wet cunt to me. She is a darker gold here, all flushed skin and slick folds, and I want to touch her—to bury my face there—more than anything. I clench a fist at my side to steady myself, determined only to watch as she moves her hand to her cunt and parts her folds, then slides one finger in a slow, deliberate circle around a tiny nub of flesh.

The third nipple. Her clit. It is barely visible, tucked neatly into the seam of her cunt, but now that I know my goal, I am eager to pleasure her.

It takes everything I have not to push her hand aside so I can greedily put my mouth there. I am salivating, watching as she touches herself. “My brave Suh-mer,” I murmur, because I can tell she is shy. “You are lovely.”

She moans in response, shuddering, and pulls her hand away. It gleams with wetness from her thighs, and I cannot resist. I capture her hand in mine and bring her fingers to my mouth, tasting her.

It is like nothing I have ever experienced before, and I am lost. I groan, cock surging in my leathers as I lap up her musky flavor. “Your taste, Suh-mer. There are no words.”

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers, squirming.

“Can you not?” I press a kiss to each delicate fingertip. “All it has done is made me crave you even more.” I glance down and see she has drawn her legs together reflexively. I bend over her and put my hand on her knee, pressing a kiss to the inside of it. “Will you be nervous if I taste you again?”

“You want to?” She gives a tremulous little sigh and moves to put her hand between her thighs again.

I stop her and press my mouth to her knee again. “I would taste from the source.”

Suh-mer moans again and presses her hand to her brow, as if the thought is too much for her to handle.

“You can tell me to cease at any time,” I promise her, and kiss down her thigh, slowly tugging her legs apart as I do. Here, her scent is mouthwateringly strong, and it takes all of my willpower to kiss gently down her leg instead of flinging her thighs apart and ravishing her with my mouth like I want to.

I am the most patient of males, I decide as I kiss lower. The most patient, or the most foolish for not moving straight to her third nipple—her clit.

But then my mouth is hovering a breath away from her folds, and her noises are growing louder, needier. I can wait no longer. I touch her with one careful thumb, dragging it down the seam of her cunt from top to bottom, watching her reaction. She jerks in response, her back arching, and her thighs go wider.

She wants more.

That is what I want, too. With my thumb, I part her folds and reveal her gleaming, flushed cunt to my hungry gaze. I lower my head and give her a long, savoring lick.

They are right; it is the best thing I have ever tasted, and far sweeter being licked from her skin than her fingers. I groan, rocking my cock against the furs. I cannot help myself; the need for her is too great. Nor can I go slow any longer. I press my mouth to her flesh and taste her with all the urgency building inside of me. I lick her with sure, slow strokes of my tongue, careful to lap up every bit of moisture. I suck on her clit to make her cry out, and then trace my fingers over her, exploring her and finding ways to wring more pleasure from her.

But she has not shuddered with release yet. I must give her more. “Where is your she-spot?” I ask between hard, deliberate licks.

She cries out, no longer quiet or even trying to be, rocking her hips against my face. “M-my what?”

“Your she-spot,” I tell her again, flicking my tongue against her clit in a way that makes her entire body jump. “Tell me where it is and I will pleasure it, too.”

“Oh god,” she moans, flexing her hips again. “Warrek, no, it’s okay—”

“Tell me or I will stop,” I demand, then circle the tip of my tongue around her clit.

She gives a low cry. “God, you’re such a dick.” When I raise my mouth from her cunt, her hands go to her teats and she frantically rubs at her nipples, trying to come. I capture her hands in my larger one, and she writhes under me, frustrated. “Warrek, please!”

“She-spot,” I demand. I need this. I need to watch her achieve her release.

Suh-mer closes her eyes, panting, and seems to be trying to calm herself. I do not want that. I want her to come. I push my face between her thighs once more and lick her long and hard, until she’s wriggling underneath me once more, her hands fighting to get free from mine.

“Okay! Fine! You dick. It’s a G-spot!”

“That is what I said. A she-spot.” I press a kiss to her mound. “Tell me where it is so I can lick it.”

Her moan is throaty. “You—you can’t lick it. It’s inside me.”

Inside? Humans are fascinating. “Where? How do I get to it?” I lift my head and examine her cunt. I have not pushed into her core yet, nor her bottom. “Tell me, or I shall start finding it for myself.”

Suh-mer takes a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s…so, I don’t know for sure, because I’ve never found it on myself, but it’s supposed to be a small, rough patch of flesh on the inside of my, well, my hoo-ha.”

“Your cunt?”

“Sure, if you want to get all crude about it.” She sounds distracted. “On the inside wall, just below where my clit is, I think. It’s like that nerve area is connected or something. I don’t know if it works for everyone, but I’ve heard it’s supposed to be incredible and—”

Her words cut off with a gasp as I push a finger inside her core. She is slippery and hot here, her cunt sucking tightly at my large finger, and I imagine this sensation around my cock and grind my hips into the furs once more. Such pleasure…no wonder hunters lose their heads over their mates.

“Warrek,” she breathes, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure.

“Stay still,” I tell her, concentrating. If this is the secret to making her wild, I want to discover it. Not that she has not already been pleasingly aroused—the slickness between her thighs and her needy keening tell me that she is—but I want to do more. I slide my finger deeper into her warmth, stroking her like I want to with my cock.

“Oh, Warrek.” She raises her hips, meeting the thrust of my finger. “God, that feels so good.” Her eyes close and her head tilts back, a look of bliss on her face.

“Is this your she-spot?” My breathing is raspy now, too, my control on the very edge.

“I—I don’t think so? It feels good, though.”

Hmm. I drag my finger up and down, thrusting gently. I do not feel a rough patch. She is all smooth wetness inside. I gaze down, considering. The underside of her clit would not be as deep as my finger is inside her. Perhaps I need to start over. I pull out of her, and she makes a low whimper of protest. “Shhh,” I murmur, leaning in to give her clit another lick to satisfy her. I cannot resist another taste. I put my finger to the entrance of her core and gently push in, just a little. The walls of her are harder to touch at the entrance, though, and so I crook my finger, looking to drag the pad of it along the inside of her cunt. Still smooth. I go a little deeper—

And feel just a tiny hint of texture.

Suh-mer makes a choking sound. Her hands fist in my mane, and she wheezes, her entire body trembling.

I think I have found out. I glide my finger over the spot again, and use my tongue on her clit. She arches again, a cry breaking from her throat. When I rub the she-spot again, her cry gets louder, until it echoes off the cliffs around us. Her hands are tight on my mane, and she thrashes her head back and forth, body trembling. “Warrek! Oh—my god! Right freaking there!”

I rock my hips against the blankets, her need making my own hard and furious. I want to bury myself inside her, and I can feel the feral growl of hunger rising in my throat. I thrust against the blankets, using the friction of the snow and the furs to give me what little pleasure I can take.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she says breathlessly, but her hands grind my face against her cunt as I continue to rub her she-spot. “Warrek! Oh! Oh! Oh!” Her voice becomes louder with each cry, and it feels as if she is tugging fistfuls of my mane out, but I do not care. It only adds to the frantic edge of our pleasure. I flick my tongue against her clit with renewed enthusiasm, wanting her to collapse with satisfaction.

“Ho, Warrek. Is everything well—”

A voice. Someone intrudes.

I lift my head and snarl, half-feral, as Harrec approaches. He dares to near my mate? “Leave us,” I growl.

The hunter’s eyes go wide at the sight of us—Suh-mer splayed on the ground before me, and me with my mouth—and fingers—between her thighs. “Apologies. I was just making sure, because it got very loud—”

“Leave!”

“Going!” Harrec chuckles and dashes away with a strange little hop.

“Warrek,” Suh-mer demands, a needy note in her voice. “Please—”

I lower my head and give my female—no, my mate—what she needs. After this, I am never giving her up. Suh-mer is mine. And in the next few moments, when she screams my name with fierce satisfaction and her cunt clenches around my fingers, I feel a sense of pride and possessive hunger I’ve never felt before.

My mate. Mine.

I press a kiss to her sweet, black-tufted mound. It is wet with her release, and her body trembles against mine. “Cold?”

She moans. “God. Warrek, I…you…”

“Yes,” I agree. Her. Me. Together. Always.

It is as it should be.

SUMMER

So my first time with a guy and I totally squirted. I’m pretty sure he finger-banged the brains out of me. It feels totally crude and a little bit naughty to think about that, but I can’t help it. I’m still dazed and thinking about being with him the next day when we wake up and make ready to break camp. I’ve kind of kept to myself for the most part, but whenever I look at Warrek, he has a secretive, almost self-satisfied smile on his face that broadens every time I blush.

Yeah, someone’s feeling good about himself this morning. He’s not the only one. I haven’t felt so…happy in days. Weeks? Months?

Ever?

I don’t even mind when Bek sighs at the gloomy skies. “Going to be a long, snowy day.”

That’s all right with me. Bring it on. And when Warrek moves to my side and drapes his shoulder-wrap over my body, it feels like a declaration of ownership.

And it makes me think about his face between my thighs and how everything pretty much just went from a seven all the way to a twenty-something on the Richter scale. Does the Richter scale even go that high? Maybe they need a hoo-ha scale.