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That wasn’t at all true now.
He wanted this female with a yearning that shocked him. It was like no desire he’d ever felt before, because he didn’t just appreciate her body. It was her strength, her warmth, the compassion and delight that existed within her that seemed so completely foreign to him.
She stared at them in the mirror, surprised, pretty pink lips parting as one of his hands cupped her belly and the other reached up to the side of her breast. Threatening to hold it, feeling its weight pressing against his palm and shuddering with desire.
Telfay females didn’t have breasts like humans did. The similar bump on their chests was mostly the fluff of their feathers. They had two nipples, as he could see Sandy possessed, the tight buds pressing against her shirt. But where she had two distinct breasts, telfay females had only a slight swelling across their chest, forming one large breast. But it was meant for warmth, a place for their young to rest against, not as a means to feed them as they ate soft foods from birth.
Rane was fiercely glad for that. His female had two breasts, heavy and luscious, and he didn’t want to share them with their young. It was unreasonable, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to claim all of her only for himself.
Not that he would mate her. He would not breed her. He could not.
But he could fantasize about it.
He could hold onto her as her eyes half closed and she leaned back against him, covering his hands with her own. Softening against him so sweetly.
Yes, just as it should be.
His crest was up. His hands moving slowly over her body. Exploring her curves. A tentative caress as he watched her face in the mirror, studying her reactions and engraving them in his heart. He didn’t want to miss a single breath, a single twitch, a single gasp.
“Rane,” she whispered, her head dropping back, catching his eyes outside the mirror.
He didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. He took hold of her neck and pushed her back just a bit more, opening her mouth to his seeking, hungry kiss.
She made a sweet sound, deep in her throat, that made tiny tingles of electricity burst all over his skin as he squeezed her close.
The sweetest taste. The purest drug. A comfort and a thrill all at once.
The softness of her lips, moving against his, seemed to make everything drift away, even the passing of time. He got lost in her, and when they finally broke apart, it was with great reluctance on his part. But it was worth it to look at her again.
She was panting, her lips puffy from the force of his kiss. Eyes half lidded and foggy, cheeks red, chest heaving.
Absolutely perfect.
Rane stroked her newly cut hair back from her face as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Melted so sweetly against him. Her strength replaced with a softness that he treasured as one of his fingers stroked across her bottom lip, his claw cap touching her upper lip.
She turned, kissing his palm, and he found himself smiling.
“Thanks for cutting my hair,” she said, sliding her fingers up and lacing them through his.
“Anytime,” he promised, still struck by the very sight of her.
It was only with great reluctance that he let her go when she stood straight. She looked down at their conjoined hands, eyeing his claw caps.
“I’ve seen these around a lot,” she said, touching one curiously.
“Our claws are naturally very sharp,” he explained. “Takes a lot to dull them. It’s easier, more fashionable, to just wear the caps.”
“And your, er, aversion to shirts,” she grinned at his bare chest, that he immediately puffed out for her. An action she didn’t miss, giggling as she traced a single finger down the middle of his pecs, leaving a trail of fire in her wake.
“Males like to show off,” he said simply, for that was really the only answer.
It made her laugh. “Seems to be a universal constant.”
“Does it bother you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t mind.”
The appreciation in her gaze as she admired his form made him think she liked it a little more than that, but he dared not push any further.
