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When the Wind blows......[m]
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She smiled. She actually smiled, and Lysander couldn’t help but smile back, finding pleasure in the fact that she liked what he was doing to her. What he was about to do. She was giving him the green light and he would, since she would have to do, not hold back. His movements were still rough, forceful, guiding her. He was after all the male, and that what males did. They were the ones in charge of this act, the ones who made the decisions. His pleasure was to come first and foremost, if she got any out of the act, that was just a happy bonus.
He ignored the question about her mate. If he had a mate or not, it did not matter now. He never thought about another women when he was laying with one—that was just bad manners. And it ruined the mood. Furthermore, the gray and white canine decided it just was none of this women’s business, his own personal life. She might think that this meant they were connected on another level, but it was, after all, just sex. The act could be performed with anyone, having a mate did not make that impossible. It did not even make it any more unlikely, he knew that well enough.
Towering over her, he pressed again her harder, his pleasure building. Burying his face in her coat, her breath came heavy against her neck, one hand holding her pinned to the tree and the other exploring areas he should not be permitted to touch. Yet she made no protest, and he wasn’t sure what difference it would make if she did. Still, he owed her something for her generosity. “Lysander. Je suis Lysander.” It was all he could offer he as he pushed himself inside of the female.
End scene!
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