Okay, we got author notes from both authors today. First, Lowefantasy here. I'm updating early because Tyndali is going through a divorce with her abusive child of a husband and needs some moral support. SO! Everyone harness your chi and let your love be heard! Via comments or her email...should I give you her email?...would she kill me?...Probably. Well, if you send messages to me for her, I'll forward them to her. On my author's honor. I do that anyway with any comments sent her way, so it's nothing I ain't use to.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Now, Tyndali, who doesn't know about Lowefantasy's note, for the intro do her chapter: Ok, Guys, this is it, the chapter we've been waiting for since Winston was introduced, the lovable hunk of striped man-flesh is finally GETTIN' SOME!!!! Three cheers for the patient readers who wanted to strangle Neara but persevered to the end! (Not the end of the story, but the end of the slow-burn).
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"Neara..." Winston gasped, the word pulled from the depths of his soul.
"Huh, what?" Neara shot upright and looked around for her alarm clock. The smell of smoke hit her, along with sweaty bodies and deep forest. "What's... who..." She blinked and the trees slid into focus, along with a campfire and a half-naked man. Winston? His name... Winston. She shook her head slightly and reached out a hand to comfort him as her thoughts swirled into place. Beast World, anime land, whatever, here with Shay, Shay dead, sex with NOT animals, but kind-of-cat/sheep/bear-boys? cat/sheep/bear/rabbit...-men?
"Forgive me," he whispered, his eyes still shut against the grey of a new morning. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Wake... you're fine, it's ok. You're safe now." Safe from what? The Scorpion Tribe, maybe? She hadn't seen Orson around, but the food and everything was always refilled when she woke up, so she knew he was keeping watch. Probably wouldn't talk to her until she did the horizontal line dance with Winston.
"Please, remember, that I care for you." He winced, a slight wrinkling of his eyes and a curl of his upper lip. "I was close to death; I felt it. The last thing on my mind was the knowledge that you wouldn't know how special and wonderful and intelligent..." he trailed off into a dead sleep, not even snoring.
"Winston?" She waited for his response. "Winston?" Still nothing. "Ugh, Orson!" She stood up and scratched her scalp furiously. Small hairs and bits of dirt bounced off the hide, some crackling into the fire. "I'm not going to have sex with him, so you can come out now. Orson, we need to get away from the Scorpion beastmen, so just... hurry up! Orson!"
Silence. "Ugh, fine! I'll just wait until I'm almost dead, then force you to move us." She looked down at Winston and balled her fist into the nape of her neck, twisting the hair into her fingers. "He's alive, so that's good, and his wounds are healing, which is also good. Great, even. He'll be able to move soon enough, and he'll just pick me up and move me and we'll wait for everyone else to catch up." Her teeth scraped against the scab on her lower lip, gently prying it off and spitting it out. "How the hell are they keeping Tony away though..." The mark gleamed in the sunlight like rich brown oil. "If Shay was here, she'd say something sassy like, 'We should just start walking; if Winston's awake enough to talk, he's probably good to travel.' Then Curtis would be all 'My Shay, if travel is what you wish, I will carry you faster than that beast can run' and he'd shoot Ryan a dirty look or whatever and Ryan would snarl and lash his tail around and Parker would jump around wanting to be in the fight."
Her chest tweaked like she broke a heart string. Her hand clenched the leather over her heart, fingernails digging into the softened hide until it hurt. No sense going down that path.
Winston...
Later that night, he awoke with a ravenous appetite. He ate everything she placed in front of him with a grateful smile, never asking for more, but making the food disappear all the same. He pushed himself up on one arm, the other hand running itself through his silvery hair, full of tangles and knots. He brought his hand in front of his face and frowned. "Normally, I'm cleaner than this. I apologize for the odor."
"Oh, I could help you... bathe, if you want, I'll just get you some hot water and herbs if you want."
The effort of sitting up proved too much for him and he sank down again, his smile weakening. "That would be very pleasant. I thank you, Neara."
She brought the pot of softly steaming water over, clenching it in her cloak and carefully folding it on the side. Grabbing one of the sanitised cloths, she dipped it into the scented water and started washing his hand. She'd done this for her brother in the hospital, when he'd gotten into that stupid car crash and broken half the bones in his arm, so why did it... ugh, the sexual tension, of course. Why did it have to feel so different? This was just an act of service...
She felt his gaze, hot and heavy, magnetic in its power, on the side of her face. Her tongue darted out to catch the salty drip of sweat making its way down her cheek, hoping he wouldn't see that. The cloth slid up his muscular arm and he lifted it slightly so she could wash his armpit, the coarse silvery hairs surprisingly short. He arched his neck against the ground so she could wash around his collar bone, the sharp edges barely softened by his skin. Her lip grew numb from the constant chewing and she tucked her hair behind her ear, the heat from the fire, his body, and the hot water feeling like a squeeze but not unpleasant.
"I never thought I'd see you again." His voice rumbled against her fingers and the cloth slowed. She'd done both of his arms, but the idea of washing his chest froze her movements.
"I wasn't worried," she lied, "I knew you were strong enough to come back."
His hand closed over hers and gently guided the cloth over his chest. What was left of his marks washed away as the cloth passed over it. "I will always come back to you."
Blushing like a tomato mixed with a pepper, or like her cheeks were flooding with blood, she looked at his face, the full lower lip, the deeply grey eyes, the gently curving nose and the pink, fibrous scar stretching from his forehead through his eyelid and down his cheekbone. Her free hand reached out and stroked the blemish, feeling the knotted skin beneath her fingertip.
They locked their breaths together, knowing what would happen when their eyes met. She kept her gaze on her fingers, feeling their way across his face, down his smooth cheeks and running her thumb across his soft eyebrows. His eyes opened, the eyelashes tickling her palm. One hand paused over his face, the other cupped beneath his on his chest. She couldn't feel him breathing.
"Neara." His lips brushed her palm as he gently moved it aside. Their eyes met and he leaned upward, a look of wonder on his face.
She inhaled sharply and moved forward, kissing him. Their lips... well, we can't really say 'met' so much as collapsed into each other, this moment of indulgence and bliss denied for so long, their energy was almost spent. When both realized the other wasn't going to break away, they picked up their speed, her hand moving up his chest to cup his jawline and his moving around the small of her back, pulling her closer to his body. Their other hands, the ones once on his face, stayed intertwined, the comfort of each other stimulating the passion of their kisses.
Her fingers hooked behind his jawbone and pressed his mouth to hers as tightly as she could, the whirling hormones inside of her begging to only breathe the air from his lungs. He rolled them over, his weight as reassuring as it was arousing, their clasped hands still above her head. His sharp teeth grazed against her lower lip and she gasped, more in shock than pain, and he stopped. He got off of her and knelt away from the hide, his chest heaving as heavily as when she'd first seen him. His silver eyes looked almost black, the pupils like huge coins.
"What's... what's wrong?" She coughed in her effort to make her out-of-breath voice sound normal. Even sitting up didn't help the too-full feeling that only his lips could relieve.
He just looked at her for a moment, his eyes slowly returning to normal. He sighed, glanced at his hands, then back to her. "I didn't want to take advantage of you."
"Advantage? I... I liked it. I wanted more." In that moment, she wasn't afraid of something worse happening and she wasn't trying to escape anything... she just wanted him.
"I didn't want to do anything you didn't like. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have kissed you without asking."
"I... I kissed you first." The burning need embarrassed and motivated her to push forward.
"You should... I want you to know something first, before I lay another hand on you."
"Um, ok." Her voice trembled as she tried to compose herself, fussing over her hair and face like it made a difference.
He moved closer to her, eyes communicating the seriousness of what he was about to say. "At any stage of our physical affection, I want you to feel safe and in control. I never want to force myself on you in any way and if you feel my kisses are too insistent and my touch too passionate, it is because I am intoxicated by your presence and your attentions. Know that at your word, I will control my desires and respect your wishes because the satisfaction of your soul more than outweighs any satisfaction my body could achieve. I adore every inch of you and could spend the night worshipping your skin, but a moment's hesitation or the slightest discomfort on your part will pause my actions and I will again ask your permission to touch you, for nothing is more important to me than that you feel valued, loved, and cherished above any other creature on this world."
Ok, if she hadn't been turned on before, she definitely was now. Almost not caring if Orson saw, she walked on her knees to Winston, situating herself between his arms. Acting more seductive than she felt, she cupped his face again and brought it to hers. "I'll let you know when I want to stop."
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Orson exploded upward, clearing the trees in his satisfaction. He landed quietly, listening to make sure the sounds of new lovemaking hadn't paused. They hadn't. "Finally. Thank the gods above!" He crooked his hand and pressed it upward three times, then clasped his opposite shoulder. "I don't have to worry so much. Blessed shit, I don't have to keep an eye on her all the time. She's safe!"
"Who's safe?"
"Tony! Get back before I smear you on the rocks! They can't know you're anywhere near here until they're done!"
"Is Neara mating with Winston?" His ears hung low, visible only because Orson shaved his head in a fit of rage after the bear refused to stay beyond the smell line.
"Thankfully. Our jobs won't be so difficult."
Tony nodded slowly. "I don't mind guarding her; I'm just worried what will happen if I'm not there all the time. What if she gets hungry?"
Orson snuck a peek at the softly glowing fire. "Yes, that's definitely the worst that could happen." He waited for a few more minutes, feeling Neara's happiness glowing through his heart and concealing his own grin. "Well not-so-fluff, let's head back. We'll give them a day or two to recover."
"I want to make sure she's ok." But Tony sullenly followed Orson anyway, the dull heartbeat of his mate ricocheting through his chest and fading with every step he took. "Why did you let her choose me? If Winston is strong and you're strong, why let her be with a weak beastman?"
The Sheep studied his partner with a careful eye. "Because she wanted to. And what you lack in strength of body, you more than make up for in strength of body odor."
He brightened. "Really?"
"Really really."