Posey
Bright warm morning sunlight dances through the curtains. The frost of the windows melts in real time as I sit up, my back stiff and aching. I fell asleep in the chair by the fireplace by accident, a book on modern apothecary sprawled across my lap, still open to the page Kenna said would have some more up-to-date applications for relieving the aches and pains associated with using my fingers like tools.
Aris is fast asleep in a ray of sunshine, his glass of healing draft spiked water empty and his face, thankfully, looking normal, if not still a little bruised. I rise, my thin nightgown falling down my thighs when my toes touch the floorboards.
Aris’s eyes pop open. He sits up, running his hand over his face, and looks right at me.
“Good morning.” I set the book on the chair. This moment feels slightly odd, like a recreation of the night I stumbled out of this same bed to find him sprawled in the chair, watching me like a hawk while I unraveled in fear and heartbreak in the moonlight.
This morning, it’s sunny. His eyes shine like polished silver as he extends a hand, silently beckoning me to the bed. The second our fingers brush, he grabs mine, yanking me into the sheets. We both laugh and roll until I’m on my back, and he’s on top of me, his knee drawing up between my thighs while he pins me to the mattress.
“Sneaky fox. I was planning on looking like I lost a bar fight at least until after Solstice so my grandpa had to remember his fist meeting the side of his grandson’s face every time he looked at me.”
I grin against his mouth. “We’ve already been over this. You deserved it. I only snuck a healing draft into your water because I didn’t want to scream and wake up the entire castle when I saw your mangled face again this morning.” The words turn to a playful screech and giggles when he nibbles my neck, nipping at my mark, his body rolling against mine.
Heat blossoms deep in my belly, intensified by the press of his hard cock against my thigh. He’s only wearing boxers, and he’s so warm and smells like his evergreen bodywash, and my brain turns to mush the second his eyes meet mine, and he gives me a cocky, wry grin.
This feels like this summer at the cabin. I feel like I did this summer, and it’s nearly enough to bring me to tears.
“Hey,” I mouth, my fingertips drifting over his cheekbone. He shaved yesterday before we went to Silverhide, and it’s been so long that I’ve seen him this smooth that I’ve forgotten about the little silver scars peppering his jaw.
“Hey,” he whispers, brushing the word over my lips.
Those tiny golden threads between us vibrate with pleasure I’ve never known could be real. It’s easy and wonderful and makes me tingle from the tips of my toes to my chin.
“My parents are still here,” he says with a soft groan that ends in a kiss to the corner of my jaw. “They’re wondering if I’m stable enough to join them for breakfast this morning, with you, of course.” Another kiss, with tongue, makes my eyelids flutter closed. His hands drift up to grip my ribs. “I said no.”
“Aren’t you hungry? You didn’t eat dinner yesterday.”
“Did you?” He drags the flat of his tongue up my neck. I shiver.
“Yes, I did. With your parents and your grandpa. I like them a lot. Your dad is a bit concerned you’ve lost your mind entirely when I showed them the fawn, though.”
“How is our little darling?”
I try to chuckle, but it comes out as a breathy sigh. He bunches up my nightgown until my belly is exposed, the fabric hanging just below my breasts.
“She’s–” He presses a hot, wet, open mouth kiss to my sternum over the fabric of my nightgown, his hands slowly roving to my hips. “She’s using the kitchen as a jungle gym. She needs a–a real place to live. A barn, or some–something–oooh–” I arch my hips against his mouth. His tongue laps over the thin, already drenched cotton of my panties, and he growls with satisfaction.
“I’ll fix it,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with heat. He slowly pulls my panties down, but they're barely around my thighs when he sucks my clit and groans so deeply the vibration nearly sends me into a tailspin already. “I love this. I think of this all the time. You’re unreal.”
I fist the pillow and press my hips against his mouth, desperate, whiny moans filling the silence all around us.
I’ve never really taken in the small details of his room. It’s so dark, so masculine, so overwhelming in a delicious way. The velvet canopy is still half drawn, like he prefers to sleep within it, in a little cocoon of darkness, and I love that. I love the way his tongue slowly parts my folds, and he grunts with pleasure, like the taste of me is the Goddess’s nectar, and he’s praying at Her altar while he nips and sucks, sliding his fingers through me until I’m full.
Only when I’m silently gasping, riding the edge of oblivion, does he draw his boxers down and enter me in one swift, overwhelming thrust, giving me something big and hard to clench around when I come utterly, completely unglued.
The orgasm sweeps through me, through us, like a tidal wave, and after several moments, we both drift down to reality, and it's… beautiful.
He’s still hard, on the verge of knotting me, but it’s clear he’s in no rush, and I’m thankful for it. His warm body covers mine, pressing me into his sheets, making me feel like something small and delicate, something he covets and buries away for only himself. We laugh and kiss and let our hands wander while he presses into me in slow, exploratory thrusts, and that goes on for some time until we’re both glistening with sweat, and the pleasure builds to a crescendo, and I’m looking up at him, mouthing his name. He stills, lips parted in awe and… love. Real love. The kind of love I thought was reserved for fairytales and the occasional romance novel I’ll never admit to buying and hiding under my bed.
I clench around his cock in rhythmic spasms that make him groan and close his eyes, his forehead resting on mine, our lips barely touching.
“I’m going to knot you again,” he warns, drawing out a deep grunt as it begins. I wiggle beneath him, taking him deeper, and he blows out his breath, opening his eyes to slits. “Greedy like always.”
I angle my hips, and he slips in so deep he hisses and grips my hip to keep me still, one brow arched.
“Posey. We’re going to have a lot of kids if you keep that up.” His knot expands, stretching me so wide it starts to sting, but my body melts into the sensation, and when he presses deeper, thrusting in shallow strokes to find the perfect fit, I come again, and it’s long and slow and delicious. He fills me completely.
He groans into my neck, nipping my mark, his tongue lapping at the scar he left.
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, smiling up at the sunlit canopy, my fingers stroking through my mate’s hair.
***
“We’re going to stay on the grounds for now,” Aris says, untying his boots in the glare of the warm sun against the rapidly melting snow. The trees are still coated in snow, and the air is chilled but far warmer than it’s been lately, and when I shed my cloak and hang it over an old stone wall, my skin doesn’t feel like it’ll freeze immediately, but I still shiver in nothing but the nightgown I wore to bed last night that I haven’t changed out of, mostly because it smells like Aris, and I want to bury my face in it.
He looks up at me from the steps, squinting against the sun, and tilts his head toward the patchwork of overgrown hedges.
“How far do the grounds go?”
“Well, it depends on who you ask. There’s a lot of outbuildings and old cottages scattered just there, in that small valley. That belongs to us. Then, over there, there’s a small lake and–”
“An underwater entrance to the caves?” Wrong thing to say.
He frowns, but the furrow between his brows isn’t nearly as deep as it could be. “Perhaps.” He licks his lips, making a show of slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Maybe I should toss you in the lake and see if you can find it?”
I scoff, but the sound turns to a gargled hum when he slips his shirt off and drapes it over the railing, standing there in the glistening sun, all muscle, scars, and overtly masculine energy.
I glance at the castle. We’re on the far side where the windows are scarce, but still, the idea of taking off my nightgown and being naked… shifting in front of someone for the first time?
My skin’s been prickling from nerves since we stepped outside.
“It’s not nerves. You’re under my shadow right now. No one can see you but me. And it doesn’t matter anyway; we’re alone now. My parents left with Ryatt for Silverhide again an hour ago. We should have news about your success with the necklace when we get back.” He steps toward me, but I frown.
Did he just read my mind? “I’m… what?”
“My shadow. You’re in it. Invisible.”
I look around, shivering, hugging my bare arms. “Really?”
He nods like this is no big deal. “You don’t feel it?”
I shake my head, and the motion has the thin straps of my gown falling off my shoulders. His gaze flicks to the slope of my left shoulder, darkening. “Interesting. Normally, it feels like being covered in snakes.”
“Wh-what?”
Another lazy shrug, but he’s taking steps in my direction, his eyes following the curve of my shoulder, my upper arm. “The shadows must like you as much as I do.” His words are almost slurred by lust. He kisses my shoulder, then my neck, lingering on the mark for a moment like he just can’t help himself, and I’m a puddle in his arms. “There’s something I want to show you.”
“Will there be extra clothes there?” I shiver, but not from the cold. His hand roams up my spine, gathering the fabric.
“I have a small stash. You’ll be fine.” He steps back and pulls the nightgown over my head, leaving me in nothing but my panties. He bites his lower lip and nods to himself.
“Did you just mouth nice?” I hiss, but he smirks, motioning to my underwear.
“Those, too.”
I hesitate for several seconds. This is suddenly very real. I’m about to shift in front of him. I’m about to be in my fox form with him.
I slip my panties down my thighs and step out of them, kicking them under my discarded gown. Aris silently inspects me like I’m an ancient statue in the royal museum in Moonrise. My skin glows a rosy pink under his thorough gaze.
“Don’t be nervous.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Have you ever shifted when you wanted to before?”
I shake my head. “I… I can, though. It’s voluntary. Will you be shifting into a fox, too?”
“Yes. It's been a while though, so cut me some slack.” It happens in a split second. Aris is standing in front of me, but then he’s just… gone.
What remains is a sleek golden fox, an unnatural color that matches his hair. His eyes, however, are so sharply silver that they resemble polished steel.
I slip into my fox form without meaning to do so. Unlike when the moon is full, it doesn’t hurt, there’s no blood involved, and instead of practically tearing out of my skin, it feels lazy and unhurried, almost… nice.
I see my foxy reflection in his eyes.
I never thought I’d have this.
Someone to share this with.
“Try to keep up,” he says into my mind.