She grabbed his wrist. “Okay. That’s—that’s enough.”
He nodded, gripping her thigh desperately. There were faint dents on her hips from his trimmed claws; he bet there were matching ones in her back. Once she’d been littered with them, a constant studding of marks that faded within a few days.
She looked down at their conjoined bodies with a breathless laugh.
“Oh, I can feel it starting. Gonna be abigone,” she announced, swiveling her hips in a slow, tantalizing circle. “You want to knot me?”
“Yes,” he panted, trembling with it. “Shit, yeah, please.”
She flashed her blunt teeth. “Told you I’d make you beg.”
Then she climbed off him, sitting on the couch beside him and leaning over to jerk him light and fast.
He groaned helplessly. Her hand felt good, but nowhere near as good as the hot clutch of her body. He leaned toward her, trying to catch her mouth. He needed her on top of him again, he needed her close, neededmore—
She nipped his lip again. “You said you wanted to knot me. Do it already.”
He was too close to do anything but obey. His wings arched as he came. Come shot over his stomach, catching in his fur and his shirt, which had never made it all the way off. It was so intense his eyes slammed shut, colors dancing under his eyelids. When he opened them again, his cock was soft except for the thick bulge at the base, pink and stiff.
Emma’s breath hitched. She traced it idly with her thumb, the desire so obvious in her face that Arthur’s heart leaped. Shedidwant him to knot her. Even after all this time, she had wanted it, even if it meant they got stuck together for twenty minutes or even two hours like that memorable session in senior year.
She wiped a speck of come off her wrist and started to get up.
“Nope,” he said instantly. He wrapped his arms around her bare waist and dragged her back into his lap.
She batted him half-heartedly. “I gotta shower.”
“Shower later. Nap now.” He lay down on the couch, pulling her on top of him.
She snorted. “Ugh. Since when are youthatguy?”
“I’ve had a very long day,” he said.
She twisted in his arms to give him a look. She obviously wanted it to be stern, but she was too satisfied, her limbs loose against him even as she pulled back.
Arthur waited, wings curving around her, trying to keep her close. At first, he thought she would insist, and he’d have to give in. He’d already gotten a hell of a lot more out of tonight than he thought he would.
Then she sighed, lying down against him. “Fine. Twenty minutes! Then you’re flying me back down.”
“You got it,” he said.
* * *
She fell asleep before he did. He listened to her breathe, the furrow between her brows finally smoothing out in sleep.
“There we go,” he murmured. He shifted against the couch. He was still covered in come and his knot was only just going down. He really should shower soon, but until then, he could let himself enjoy this. Emma Curt, in his arms once more. Probably for the last time.
He nuzzled her hair. She didn’t smell like Berry Blast anymore. She smelled like sweat and come andhim. It felt right. Righter than red carpets, righter than a hundred cameras pointed at him. He’d never felt more right than when he was holding Emma in his arms. His tail twisting between her legs, his wings tucked around her back.
He let his wings pull her even closer, feathers brushing her back. Once, he thought he’d do this every night for the rest of his life.
His eyes burned. He blinked hard, alarmed, thinking of dust and allergies and then realizing that no, he was just tearing up. Ridiculous. He didn’t cry outside of scenes. And even then, it was an elegant tear, something suitable for a charming, strong leading man.
Emma made a sleepy noise against his chest.
He closed his wings tighter.
CHAPTEREIGHT
