*****
When he softened under her fingers, she moved away, ignoring his faint sound of protest. She drew back, her eyes finding the limpid pools of his semen lying on his chest. “Mmm,” she hummed, the sound almost a purr, or a growl. She bent her head, licking up his c*m. He tasted wonderful, of virile man, and she found herself wanting to bring him back to life and take him.
When Calvin's chest was clean, the only remnants of her efforts faint traces of saliva, she snuggled in beside him, her legs twined with his. He looked back with an expression of mild hilarity. “What?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” he asked, then snickered. “I was just thinking,” he said, “about how most wolves are content to mark their territory by peeing on it. Rather than by licking up a man's...love-juice.”
She gigg
