– Crow –
“You enjoyed tonight,” I start, trying to get back the comfortable mood, but it’s not really working.
“Yes. I’m glad Larona lives here now.” Leslie’s eyes shine vividly for the first time since I’ve laid claim to her.
“You feel comfortable in her presence.”
“I do,” Leslie admits guilelessly while we take the remnants of our dinner back to the kitchen. “Larona and I get along well. She’s my friend.”
I feel another stab of jealousy, and then I regrettably say something absolutely moronic, “You’d rather spend time with her than with me.” Leslie turns around and looks at me with a frown that makes me want to bite my tongue off. You idiot. You bloody idiot!
“Well, Larona isn’t smothering me with a compulsive need for control!”
Her words shatter my self-control. A haze of abstruse thoughts clouds my mind, courtesy of my eight percent non-human DNA. Leslie is still challenging my authority. She’s mine, and I know what’s best for her… but she doesn’t take me seriously. She doesn’t admit my claim on her! I have to get her under control! She has to submit! With those thoughts running riot in my mind, adrenaline gets pumped into my blood, putting me into a mood that’s a mixture of aggression and arousal.
Of course, Leslie notices – the ostentatious tent in my pants is hard to miss. However, this time, she’s not afraid. Instead, she seems rather peeved… and aroused, which I’m able to tell from her scent. A part of my heightened emotions is profoundly satisfied by that development – at least physically, there are no issues in our compatibility.
Still, Leslie tries being obstinate. She crosses her arms in front of her chest. Her eyes are ablaze, and her brown hair falls in loose waves down to her shoulders. I notice every detail about her… and her stubbornness only makes me want her even more! Right now!
Leslie is wearing one of her white bodysuits that hardly conceals any of her feminine curves… neither the dip of her waist, nor her long legs, nor her shapely behind. Every inch of her body is sending me a clear message, yet I doubt she’s even aware of it.
“You want to grab me and throw me onto the bed again so you can proof something to yourself?” Her voice is flippant and just a bit husky.
I decide to play along. “There’s no need for that.”
“Great,” she retorts, but now there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Good night, then.”
Leslie turns to leave, but I’m not letting her off that easy. She hasn’t gone two steps when I grab her from behind, wrapping her in my arms. “I don’t need a bed to show you who you belong to… the kitchen will suffice.”
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