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Touch Me With Your Naked Hand

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If Virginia’s partner had asked outright whether she was in the mood for sex, she would have said no. Argued tiredness or headache or, well, pregnancy to plead out of it. But Wolf wasn't an ordinary partner, and he was a wolf of actions, not words.

Not that he didn't have plenty to say, anyway. She was already in bed, trying to read her magazine in peace, and he couldn’t stay away. He half-pounced on the bed, giving her a possessive look.

“Oh, Virginia,” he breathed, placing his chin on her bare hip. “To think that our child is growing inside you! It only makes you more beautiful to me.”

Virginia sighed and set the magazine aside. She could try to fight it, but that would just end with hurting Wolf’s feelings - or worse, another conversation about her feelings and opening herself up to love. And while she wasn’t above telling Wolf to get lost in Central Park and leave her alone, she didn’t really feel like being alone tonight.

She was deciding that it was better to give in and enjoy the sex without trying to push Wolf away first.

“You told me that last week,” she informed him, but she brought her hand down and ran it through Wolf’s hair.

Wolf arched up into her touch and closed his eyes. “It is still as true as it was then,” he announced.

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal in New York,” Virginia observed, but she carded her hands through his hair as she spoke.

Wolf’s eyes snapped open. “Because you are pregnant?” he asked.

“No. Because you have a tail,” Virginia explained. The moon was waxing, with less than a week to fullness, and Wolf had a bulge in his trousers that was getting difficult to disguise with 21st century styles. She moved a hand to his trousers, pressing gently on the center. “We’re not used to tails on people around here.”

“Ohhh,” Wolf moaned, half a whine creeping into his voice. “Virginia, could you, would you please -”

It was appealing to see him squirm, and a part of Virginia relished the power she had over him. She didn't normally take advantage of it outside the bedroom, but his obvious adoration was a nice ego boost.

“Take them off,” Virginia acquiesced, tugging on his button meaningfully. She moved her magazine to the bedside table. It could wait.

Wolf attempted to strip sinuously, but his excitement was overpowering his balance. He became entangled in his pant legs and nearly fell over at one point, and Virginia couldn’t help but chuckle at his confusion. Wolf was good in bed in many ways, but no one would accuse him of being graceful.

He made a smooth recovery and nestled in beside Virginia where she was reclining against the headboard. She was wearing a light yellow negligee, a gift from her grandmother that had been sheer when it was new and was now pushing threadbare.

Wolf buried his face between her breasts. “You look beautiful in yellow, Virginia,” he announced.

“You said that last week, too.”

Virginia dipped her hand lower, past Wolf’s half-full tail to his sphincter. Wolf’s entire body shuddered as her fingers brushed against him. A few firm strokes to either his tail or his cock would have him shooting all over her bed, moaning with delight.

Not yet. She drew her hand away, and Wolf whined low in his throat, his hips jutting forward, seeking friction.

“Make me come first,” Virginia told him. It wasn’t a request.

Virginia’s hands fell to her sides as Wolf moved obligingly downward, his tongue finding her clit with the ease of extended practice. Now it was Virginia’s turn to shudder, as two fingers slipped easily inside her.

“Your skin shines like an enchanted pearl,” Wolf breathed, raising his eyes to hers.

A smile curved Virginia’s lips, but she moved her hand back to Wolf’s hair, redirecting his mouth. “Less talking,” she advised.

Wolf nodded his understanding, then set to work, his tongue applying just the right amount of pressure as his fingers worked slowly in and out of her. Virginia let her head fall back and continued running her hand through his shaggy hair, tugging it slowly in her fingers. Wolf moaned low, and the sound vibrated through Virginia’s body. She gave into it, her hand tightening in Wolf’s hair as she climaxed.

Wolf moaned again appreciatively, his face still pressed into her, and his tongue lapped at her wetness. Virginia slowly loosened her grip on his hair. “Up,” she directed, and Wolf moved back in beside her, balancing on his right hip, his face turned to hers.

Virginia let her own right hand drift down to massage her clit gently, feeling the aftershocks come in waves. With her left hand, she slapped Wolf’s thigh lightly.

“Turn over.”

When he did, she took hold of his tail. At this point in the lunar cycle, her hand fit neatly around it - another day or two and it would be too thick and bushy. But tonight she was able to encircle the fur at the base, then clench her hand to grip it securely, and run down the length of it. With the fur, not against it.

Wolf’s buttocks clenched and unclenched involuntarily, and he whimpered her name before remembering he was supposed to be quiet.

“Shhhh,” Virginia reminded him, and she stroked his tail again, feeling the individual hairs tingle against her palm. She gave one last rub to her clitoris, prolonging the waves of pleasure there, then moved to her own side and brought her right hand to join her left. She stroked Wolf tighter and faster, and his breathing escalated into panting.

“You’re being very good, Wolf,” she breathed into his ear, and he quivered. Virginia sank her teeth into his shoulder then, and he came forcefully, gyrating away from her and grinding down into the mattress.

Virginia didn’t particularly mind. The wet spot was on his side of the bed, and laundromat trips had been one of Wolf’s first lessons in living like a New Yorker. She put one hand up to his shoulder where she had bitten it, drawing him back closer to her.

“I never dreamed I would find someone who could keep up with a wolf,” he told her. He had said that to her before as well, more than once, but she let it slide.

“I know,” she said. As the rush of sex wore off, her negligee suddenly seemed too thin, and she reached for the duvet at the foot of the bed and pressed against Wolf’s heat. He ran a little hotter than she did, and at times like this, it was welcome.

“I love you more than all the gold and all the sheep in all the Nine Kingdoms,” he told her.

“I know,” she said again, tenderly, but Wolf pulled away from her then.

“No. Say it,” he ordered. “It’s good for you.”

It had sounded forced and inauthentic the first few times, and every now and then it still felt wrong. But it was getting easier with practice.

“I love you, too,” Virginia said. “More than all the magic mirrors in my world or yours.”

Wolf returned to embrace her.

“When you say that, it is more beautiful than the song of a thousand nightingales,” he told her.

“Yeah. You, too,” Virginia replied, and to her surprise, she really meant it.