April 4th

"No...but I'm the one who does it better than anyone you've ever had," he breathes hotly against your cheek, your earlobe pinched lightly between his canines. You just love his confidence...he's certainly tied for best with Ascher, that's for sure.

You feel his hands glide down, your hearing intimately sensitive to the -clink- of his belt buckle being undone, and with a sound halfway between a triumphant tenor and a breathy whisper of desire, your own hands eagerly reach to undo his fly, to take what you want -

- suddenly your face is pressed against cold concrete, against the very pillar you'd manhandled Mizrah against. It shouldn't be easy to forget how strong he is - properly fed, you'd seen that man single-handedly wrestle a 10-foot tall rat-ogre to the ground and break its spine...all the same, he's never once hurt you. Not really besides a strained muscle or two, a love-bite that went a bit too deep, a passionate thrust that ran along the dividing canyon between pleasure and pain...you always recovered in seconds.

He's got your hands behind your back, pinned there, and you could probably squeeze free if you wanted...but you don't want to. You want him to hike your skirt up and he does, and you want him to pull your arousal-and-cum soaked panties to the side so you can feel his girth, his skilled ministrations and his adoration for you, because you know this is all about his fierce, uncompromising desire and love for you but even that doesn't fully describe the bond that is forged in the crucible of the Hunt, of bloody kisses over twitching, steaming Prey, of primal mating in defiance of a maddening, ill-omened moonlight.

"This is what you want, right?" his low, silken voice is like a dragon's curling smoke against your throat and you can't help but groan as you feel it...that clasp and ring that makes sex with Yusuf Mizrah such an unleashed, incredible experience in part - it slides lightly up and under the pearl-hardness of your pleasure node. It's amazing to find a man like him, one that doesn't mind the feeling of another male's seed like this...one that's driven so intensely to desire for you.

"Yes, god yes..."

"How many times do you think I'll cum inside of you tonight, Isabel?"

The question makes your breath catch and your body quiver

"You can make this the first. C'mon Mizrah...I can feel how hard you are, I'm surprised you didn't tear those nice leather pants," you huskily moan as you grind back against him, maneuvering his glans toward your velvet grasp by moving your hips, and a musical note is drawn long and pure from your lips as he presses into you.

"Anh...annhhh yes, oh fuck, fuck that is good noooo!" you groan as he slides away, the lightning sensation of his crown over your clit a consolation prize but your body, this ritual demands intercourse.

"What did I say?" your packmate's hands slide up from your belly to take both of your breasts as you reach around to grasp onto the support pillar. "Didn't I say I'd make you want me so badly..." he trails off into a sound that is more growl than a man's exhalation of effort, "that you'd be begging me to fuck you?"

"You did say that baby...and there's something that Vahn, Ascher, Eliza...all of them know," you breathe with an eager, hood-eyed smile. "You can make me do that because you fuck me so fucking well, but do you really...need to go through all that, and deny yourself, my handsome prince, when you could just...pump me full, right here, lagnos mou?" your hips move in tantalizing circles, slicking your engorged lips all over his glans...you'll make him give in.

Victory, triumph flashes like starbusts before your eyes, widening with all-consuming, body-shuddering pleasure as you feel his cockhead slip so easily into your cum-slicked sex, a quiet, low ohhh...of satisfaction escaping your lips. "You're right...I know how to touch you, right here, just the way you like Isabel," Mizrah breathes against you, sliding teasingly back out and grinding against that pearl before you work him back in, greedily. "I'm the one whose cock presses this button like nobody else."

His frenum ladder slides across your G-spot and you cry out, tensed with delight as warmth spreads shooting wonderfully through your pelvis.

"And when you feel me here, aaall the way inside of you, here...this is where Vahn came in you, isn't it," your packmate, your mate snaps his fangs in a way that makes you snarl with predator's excitement, digging your hands into his leather vest, still 'restrained' behind you. He's ensconced firmly, deeply within you, and you're still warm with your other lover's seed and the feeling of Mizrah's pierced cock pushing it even deeper into you drives you wild. "It's where you want me to pump you full...isn't it."

"Yes, yes it is you...ngggh, you're such a bastard I love it, fuck me. Come on, fuck me, give it to me, I know you already blew your first load in that other girl...it's the second one I like the most anyway," you tease him; he loves when you talk dirty to him, something you'd never been quite...comfortable enough for, before. His second ejaculation was usually harder than the first; his cum hotter, more potent...you'd discussed it with Mala, how Firstblood men's second (and third, fourth, fifth) load(s) carried newer, younger sperm; you'd never considered it before but...something about it makes you grip with velvet strength around his base.

You do not expect it when he slowly pulls his cock free of your incredibly hot, soft, loving sheathe, and a sound of mixed disappointment and offense breaks your lips. "Watch me on stage baby." He kisses the edge of your jaw and slides your underwear back into place over your tingling, throbbing nethers, releasing your hands. Zipping his fly.

Your turn to face him with a sharp, pinning stare, talons growing bone-white and sharp from your fingertips as he denies you what you want, and you put on a good show of being angry, straightening out your skirt. You push him by the shoulders away from you, your claws marking his bared flesh momentarily, your cheeks flushed.

Fine, but I'm going to Hunt you down for this.

The ominous promise hangs between you as you both glare standoffishly.

As usual he's the first to break.

The corners of his mouth twitch upward.

The bare hint of a laugh escapes your lips.

Soon the both of you are chuckling and then guffawing as you enter his embrace...even if your body is shouting for sexual satisfaction, especially since he actually slid his cock inside of you like that, you can't help but settle into his muscular arms and feel his love for you. Neither of you have said the 'L' word, you've danced around it before but you can't deny its presence.

Your eyes lock lasciviously, and you both give each other inhuman smiles of desire and your lips meet. "Don't worry...Isabel..." he says, interrupted by your ferocious kiss. "After the...show, mmm...I'll fuck you, long as you want, as many times as you need...soon as you've begged for it."

A fluttering sensation in your lower belly, a tension that you know can be released by him.

Your fingers wrap gently around his cock once more, stroking up and down under those leather pants and smiling sweetly. "Go. Go before I get too horny and lose control, I swear I'll ride you on that stage. Play your music, blow all the girls away and make them goosh their panties, but you better find me after you're done."

"Otherwise, I most certainly will find you."

This man...he's your man. Other women may mess around, they can look and touch and even be enjoyed by him - you know he feels the same, and that your dalliances with people like Vahn or Eliza were just...appetizers before the main course (even if the both of them had, in fact, figured out how to push your buttons to climax).

You watch him go, enjoying the way his muscles move in his shoulders, the backs of his arms...a sight stronger than any of the men you'd ever dated or otherwise taken to your bed; most of them have been on the skinny end like Vahn. You make sure nobody is looking, and then use your own supernatural dexterity to run up a wall, leap out to grab a catwalk with your fingertips, and haul yourself up to watch.

He puts his arm around his broad, meaty drummer, takes a hit from a joint offered by his beanpole guitarist, and strides to the backstage.