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Eris was there for him—there was nothing more important than the chestnut-furred male held over her, and the sable woman knew this with every part of her being. She had ceased to think of anything else—the fast-cooling body beneath her was gone, the world around her had swirled to absolute shadow. There was only the glow of his brilliantly blue eyes, swallowing the night and spitting it back out bruised and battered. Her hand traced his length slowly, delicately touching the flesh there. This warmed and stiffening thing in her hand was another source of his power, and one she could take advantage of, if only she would be so lucky, if only he would let her—if she was even more blessed, she might leave this place with his children slowly blossoming in her stomach.
His fangs touched against her neck, and she reclined her head further back and twisted it to the side, exposing her sable-furred throat for him. Eris's nose pointed toward the moon and the stars, but she saw none of it; unable to look at him, she had closed her eyes. His fingers were on her and she froze for just an instant as a soulful and twisted noise echoed from somewhere in her belly. It was confused and blended together, a growl and a moan and a howl and a yelp all at once, her body giving into shivers and shudders as he moved his fingers inside of her. Her occupied hand had long resumed its stroking and touching, her motions less smooth and concentrated now that he touched her, too. Her other hand reached up toward the rough fur of his mane and pressed the back of his head, urging his teeth into her flesh. She wanted to hurt for him, she wanted to bleed for him if that was what he wanted.
Her lithe body pressed against him as he moved inside his fingers of her, whatever muliebrity she possessed evaporated away and turned to feverish desire by the chestnut-furred demon.
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