Heat

On the screen, the female was crying out aloud at the height of her pleasure and the male groaned and sank down slow atop her. Daria’s mating musk grew stronger, and suddenly, Tagen could not sit quietly and pretend none of this mattered. He turned to her, his stomach tightening apprehensively, and readied himself to put his hand on her.

She stood up fast. It was perhaps unfair to say she sprang away, but neither was it wholly inaccurate. She went rapidly around the low table to the foot of the stairs and looked back at him.

He was bitterly prepared for fear, but it was not there. Her eyes were clear. Uncertain and deeply u

Tagen stood up.

“Good night,” she said. She turned away and went quickly up the stairs and into her room. The door shut resoundingly.

Tagen was on the second stair before he could fully comprehend that he had left the couch. He stopped there, his claws gouging at the banister, knowing that if he moved up another step, it would end with him in her room again, and this time, gods help him, he would have her. And that he would not do. When she was ready, she would ask him. He wanted her, but more even than that, he wanted her to want him.

Tagen turned around and stalked away from her, out the front door and into the warm night air. He walked fast, all the way to the edge of the wood, but could not avoid the golden light spilling from her window and could not clear his senses of the intoxication of her musk. And now…now he didn’t even want to.

Tagen leaned his back against the pillaring support of a tree and unfastened his breeches. He closed his hand around his shaft, his eyes sliding shut, and thrust into his fist. Slowly, slowly. He would have to be careful with her, gentle. She was so fragile, so small (his hand tightened), but he would be gentle. Like the human males on the late-hour video feeds, he would show her tenderness and care. And like the females, she would respond with cries, with moans. She would hold him against her. She would find her pleasure again and again before him.

Tagen locked his voice behind clenched jaws as he erupted out into the night.

Better, he thought, catching his breath and slowing his racing heart. At least it was acknowledged and out of his system. Maybe now he would be able to concentrate.

He glanced up at the house as he fastened his breeches again, and saw the light in Daria’s room switch off.

She was still awake. He could go to her right now, before she slept. He could knock. If she said nothing, he would know what it meant. But she might admit him. He had to do something.

‘If I want you in my room, I’ll leave the door open.’ The memory of her voice was as clear in his mind as if she were directly behind him.

He would not knock. When she was ready, she would invite him.

He would wait.

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