“Oh, surely you can’t be her.My knight would never lose hercomposure.Gods, it would wrench my heart to see her sad.”
She tried to turn away, furiously rubbing at her remainingeye.He wrapped a gentle hand around her muzzle, making a point to coax herback.
“Maybe you’re right,” Isaac said.“I should go serve adifferent knight, instead.Clearly, you’re no longer up to the task.”
“Shut up.Shut your fucking mouth, squire.”
She kissed him.It was barely less than a bite.Fur andteeth assaulted his lips, hot breath filled the air, and her tongue barreledinto his mouth, wrestling him down before he could mount a defense.Both ofthem became desperate for leverage.A hand grabbed his chin, an arm balanced onthe mattress, there was a war erupting between their tongues, and he had to useall his strength to keep himself lifted while she pressed the attack.
She dipped down, dragging her tongue along the length of histhroat.He took the chance to breathe.When she reached the nape of his neck,the nibbling began, her incisors gently pinching the flesh, and the hand he wasrubbing through her mohawk began to go slack.His shuddering breath onlyencouraged her.There was a flurry of licks, each one longer than the last,and, whenever her tongue moved to a different spot, the thick fur of her neckalways followed, rubbing along the slick, steaming skin.
She attacked his clothes.He rose to his hands and knees,trying to gain leverage.Every movement he made forced a loss of contact.Everytime, it made her growl.He went from a crawling position to kneeling back onhis haunches.As her onslaught continued, he was tilted until he lost hisbalance completely, falling against the cold, damp wood of her cabin wall.Bythen, only his undershirt remained, and she was already using the chance toyank the pants from his legs.His belt buckle glinted in the lantern light.Itwas still glinting when it was thrown against the opposite wall.
Zaria stood off the mattress.Her trousers hit the planks.Right then, she wore nothing but the light of the lantern, and Isaac could notdecide where his gaze should settle—the spotted fur, the curve of her hips, theslope of her breasts, the muscles, the scars, the thin hint of pink alreadyglistening between her legs.
“Take it off,” she said.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Take it off.”
He removed the last of his clothes.She rushed for him.
The thin mattress did not cushion the impact—he felt morewood than cloth as she sank her weight atop him, and he felt even more woodwhen his back was pressed to the wall, nearly crushed beneath her larger frame.She had a plan, clearly, but she spent more time kissing him than following it,and every shift of position only came gradually, reluctantly.They developed apattern of licking, breathing, moving.There was a kiss, a grab, a turn.By theend, Isaac was sitting cross-legged, Zaria was hovering above him, and she wasrubbing the head of his cock through the slick creases of her cunt, trying toreach the appropriate angle.Both of them felt it when she did.
Their foreheads pressed together.She was gazing into hiseye as he entered her.
A wave crashed against the hull, burying the sound of theirgasping breaths.Her descent came slow enough that Isaac felt every bump andfold of her inner walls.She was slick, tight, burning hot.Every trace of thewine seemed to vanish from his mind.There was nothing but her scent, herbreath, her grip tightening on his shoulders, the weight of her fuzzy thighssinking into his lap.
When he was fully hilted, they kissed again.She shifted herlegs, wrapping her calves around the small of his back.Her arms pressed himinto a hug.With her breasts on his shoulders, and his face in her chest, itfelt as if no part of them was not in contact with the other.Slowly, she beganto rock back and forth.The penetration barely changed, the heavy weight of herthighs never quite left his lap, but every motion earned a hitch in his breathand a whine from her chest.She never changed the pace.It remained slow, firm,and steady.
“Do the—”
He pulled back just enough to take her nipple in his mouth.A sharp breath blew through his hair.As he tugged and licked, her hands roamedalong his back, seeking a place to grip.She settled on kneading her fingersthrough his hair.The shift in attention only barely slowed the rocking of herhips, and he felt her walls contract as he worked her breast.Every reaction hesought to earn was received in ample supply.
“My squire.”
She pushed him back.He only had a second to glimpse herface before it was bending down to kiss him.Thecontact rapidly devolved into licks.He was forced to close his eyes againstthe long, heavy drags of her tongue.Soon, the wetness on his face was moresaliva than sweat, and every attempt he made to pull away only earned a growland a tighter grip.
“My squire.”
She kept licking.He continued to resist, more playfullythan not.
Down below, their point of connection had turned soppingwet.As her fur ran across his thighs, it left streaks of their emissions.Every sensation came together as one—her lips brushing against his groin, herwalls gripping him like a fist, all the heat and wetness almost making himforget the growing ache in his legs.She was sitting heavily in his lap,keeping him buried as deep as he could go, and, with her legs and arms wrappedtightly around him, he did not think that he could pull away, even if he wantedto.
A whine came from deep in her chest.When he looked, she wascrying again, wiping her face with so much force that the clasp of her eyepatchcame undone.Her other eye blinked open, the iris milky white.She blinked itshut, turning her head away as the whine was buried under the crash of a wave.
Isaac reached for her face, taking her cheek in his palm.
“Fine.I’m fine.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Shut up.Stop.”
He used his hand to coax her head down.When it was inreach, he kissed her eye.Slowly, he began to kiss his way around the rest ofher facial scars, the ones they had earned together, and the ones she hadcarried before they met.Her tears broke through again, and she buried her facein the crook of his shoulder.
“Just a thief,” she said.“Just a thief.”
