[D2 LE] No Aphrodisiac (Chantelle’s Apartment)

[Chantelle Rossette]

The was no denying to the beast's senses the red wine desire she felt for him, though he could just as easily scent the hesitation, something that ran deeper than the excuse that she would need to leave for work sooner rather than later. But she understood the confusion, she'd pledged him an evening, and was still putting him off, perhaps she could explain...

She let her body melt up against him, pulling back her head on her long neck to turn her chocolate eyes on his, gathering her thoughts. "Mon loulou," Chantelle caressed his cheek, my wolf, "whe' you were out of de worl' you go' use' to takin' wha' you wan' to ta', whe' you wan' to ta' it." She sighed, if the beast would be equally satisfied with rutting, then the next part might not matter, "I wan' a lil more dan tab A," she pushed her body up against him to demonstrate her meaning, "in slo' B. Dis body is new to me, I wan' know more dan where you wan' pu' dat ting."

[Marcus Kendall]

There was a low, sympathetic growl, though Chantelle likely more felt than heard it, pressed as she was against her. "Mhmhm." Marcus murmured, his claw dropping on her rear. He could not help himself, not when she was so close. "How about you and me find out, how it all works?" the beast offered and she could sense the flash of passion - likely due to the man imaging what that would be involved. "Meanwhile, maybe you can touch me?" She could feel his snout on her neck, his lips pressing against the feathers that covered her skin.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Chantelle's body feathers were downy-soft, without the microscopic barbs that kept her wing feathers so orderly and neat. "I daresay dat's wha' go' us in all dis trouble to begin wit," she teased, but she leaned back from him all the same, practically sitting in his giant paw, making room between them, burying both hands into his chest fur. Those hands worked down his stomach, tugging and pulling and caressing and stroking in equal measure until they reached the waistband of his shorts.

[Marcus Kendall]

"Trouble?" Marcus murmured against the feathers of her neck. "Tonight I am only as much trouble as you want." Feeling that he should not touch her - at least not that way, he merely kneaded the flesh beneath his claw. His grasp was firm, probing even.

Chantelle could hear his breath quicken as she touched him, the tarty scent of passion blossoming in the air. When she reached his waistband he pressed his muzzle more firmly against her, leaving a trail on kisses along her long neck. "You sure you fine with this?"

[Chantelle Rossette]

"You so much trouble, mon loulou," she whispered. She was grateful for the restraint he showed, considering the cloying jasmine-scent of desire in the air, dark red at the edges of their vision. Chantelle's breath trembled as she exhaled, and she rubbed the side of her beak against the scent gland in Marcus' cheek. What harm was a little taste of what was to come? Even as the egret unfastened the beast's fly, slipping a hand under his excuse for clothing, she knew the true answer, and she didn't care.


/fade

[Marcus Kendall]

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