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I opened my eyes to the great suffocating darkness of my home. Moonlight spilled in through my window, filtered by the trees. It was blue and eerie, the complex shadows mingling and becoming a thousand monsters before my eyes, spread across the floor. The dull, tired light of midnight reminded me of my home. Usually it was a pleasant memory, but this time it was not. I sat up quickly, and the sheets fell down into a puddle in my lap.

How long had I been sleeping? Through the foggy vagueness of my thoughts I remembered going to bed just after sunset. Waking up so late at night disturbed me, because there was no way for me to tell time.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I placed a hand over it, feeling the trembling beat. The monsters in the moonlight danced threateningly, stretched across the floor.

I considered going back to sleep only briefly. My mind was becoming clearer, and I was wide awake. For some reason I was roused from my slumber, and I was caught in the elastic void between sunset and dawn. No, I would not attempt to sleep again. If I went to sleep, I might have nightmares.

A sense of fear and regret rippled through me. Everyone else in the world was sleeping, I believed, and I was alone. Alone, with the shadow creatures to keep my company. If I could just close my eyes and drift away again, I could have made it all go away. It was something like claustrophobia.

My emotions were heightened as well. Memories of home flashed through my mind, suddenly as vivid as the blackness around me.

I remembered one day in my childhood when I had injured myself. My impetuous explorations of the forest led me to trip over some rather sharp tree roots, and scrape my knees. I was young, and I cried. Derrun had been with me, of course. He knelt beside me and hugged me, crying a little himself, perhaps out of sympathy.

He took me back home to my parents. My mother soothed me with her soft, loving voice, and my father used some of his magic to heal me. He scritched between my ears and told me it would be okay, to keep my chin up and to be careful. He was always so gentle with me, and yet he had been firm when he had to.

Although I knew it would bring me pain, I wondered how they were. Mother had cried when I left the forest, but they had wished me well. Suddenly I missed her bright smile and her singing voice. I missed her terribly. And my father-- when had he last patted me on the back, or told me how proud he was of me? It had all be before this journey north.

An idea dawned on me, slow but lethal and inevitable in its stealth. I saw my father lay down in the grass, in our home. He was smiling quietly, the way he always did, as he thought of all I had done in my life. He thought of how proud he was, and felt satisfied. However, he would not wake up from this slumber. He was getting on in his years, still a strong man, but too many years had passed, and perhaps it was time to move on to the next world, to die gently. His tall body rested for the last time, regretting only that he had no the chance to say goodbye to me...

I gasped, a shaky, dry sound in the still, suffocating air of my room. It was just my imagination. Father wasn't going to die. He wasn't an old man. He had twenty more years in him, and that was conservative. But I was so far away. I would never know. How could I say goodbye to him?

My hands rose to my face, and I rubbed my eyes. No. It was best not to think this way. When I moved north, I knew would be homesick. It was not the first time I had felt the panic of being so far from home. Usually though, it came to me in the morning, rather than in the unsettling darkness.

I climbed out of bed and felt the rug beneath my feet. Standing in the dark, I was very aware of my body, of everything around me. I picked up my shirt and cloak from the floor and dressed quietly. I decided to go for a walk outside. It would clear my thoughts, and perhaps I would see the sun rise. I still had no idea of the time. I may have only been asleep for a couple of hours.

I pushed open my front door and stepped outside into the night air. It was cool, but not cold. Thousands of stars twinkled overhead, and the moon, like a large silver coin, stood ominous and aged in the sky.

Fresh, clean air filled my lungs, and this seemed to clear away all the pain and fear in my heart. The rational, soothing voice of logic calmed my troubled thoughts. Father wasn't going to die. Mother wasn't going to die. In fact, I could arrange to visit them, if I wanted. It wouldn't be that difficult. I could take Derrun with me as well. He would love that.

I smiled. That was a delicious idea. I placed it in the back of my mind, to plan later. The night no longer seemed strangling and hateful. Instead it was sort of poetic. Thoughtful, in its own way.

The dark road ahead looked alien to me, even though I'd traveled it many times before. I walked along quietly, absorbing the silence around me. Again I looked at the stars. Beautiful things, glistening and sparkling overhead. I read somewhere that they were impossibly high, higher than the tallest tree, and farther than the birds could ever fly. Yet they looked so close, just beyond my reach. So many things seemed that way. Memories were like stars. They shined, eternal and unchanging. At first glance they look so close, but when you reach out to touch them, your fingers grasp only thin air.

The last time I had thought about the stars was the night I'd spent with Raajin by the lake. I hadn't seen him since then. This, I realized, is where I was heading-- to his lake. My legs seemed to travel of their own accord. In the distance, to my left, I could see buildings and many yellow lights. Apparently I wasn't the only one who was awake.

A gentle, mysterious feeling surrounded me. I was enchanted with the atmosphere of the evening. It was like music. Yes, there had been music in the forest of the Kel. We had flutes, drums, and our voices. Sometimes a group of friends would play together in harmony, all flowing to a rhythm. Sometimes it was mournful, and sometimes it was happy. I could feel the essence of night all around me, singing like some bittersweet song. It was the sort of tune that could be sad or joyful, grieving or triumphant. It called to me.

It took me a bit of walking, but finally I reached the very place where Raajin and I had met. I came to a stop and took a deep breath of the air, gazing over the moon's reflection in the water, and into the deep forest beyond. As I recalled our night together, the night music flowed with me, and wove Raajin into its silent melodies. I couldn't remember spending a more perfect night with anyone.

Perhaps a part of me hoped I would meet him, that by some chance he would be waiting for me. It was silly, of course. I sighed softly. He had better things to do with his time than to hang out with a young cat like myself.

I remembered the things he'd told me as we swam together in the lake. His profession was an art form, a display of honor and strength. Yet he was so tender! He had held me up in the lake without complaint, and then, later he had leaned over and touched me. I shivered as I recalled how openly aroused we had both been. I flexed my toes, remembering how he'd touched my foot.

I sighed shakily, filled with the slowly rising heat of arousal. I wasn't afraid of anyone seeing me there, because I was alone.

Or, I thought I was.

"It seems we meet again," a soft, deep voice spoke from behind me.

I whirled around, and my heart skipped a beat. The trees that surrounded the lake were dark in the shadows of night, but I could still see Raajin's figure in one, resting on a low branch. His legs hung down at eye level.

It took me a moment to recover from my surprise. "W...were you sneaking up on me?" I asked.

He wore a black vest that closed in the center of his chest. It did very little to cover his massive physique. His big orange shoulders bulged out and his broad, white-furred chest rose and fell slowly with his breath. Long black pants clung to his powerful legs, glistening in the moonlight. They ended above his strong, square ankles. His feet were bare.

"No," he said, half-smiling. "If I wanted to sneak up on you, I'd have gotten much closer than this."

"I see," I said softly. "Well, what are you doing here?"

He tilted his head. "I live here. What are you doing here?" he asked calmly, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted. "I decided to go for a walk, and... well, I remembered our evening together. It's amazing that I happened to run into you tonight."

He rocked backward on the branch, flipped over once in the air, and landed solidly, silently on his feet in the grass. He strode over to me with his confident gait, arms swinging slightly at his sides. "Perhaps it's fate," he said.

He stared at me expectantly. There was something dark in his eyes. It was almost predatory. I didn't know what to say. I had wandered into his territory unannounced, and I had no idea how he'd interpret that. He seemed to be glad to see me, but he watched me so intently I was caught off guard. "I... had a very nice time the other night, Raajin," I blundered out.

He nodded. "So did I," he spoke softly. "I hope you didn't get the wrong idea when I cut things short."

'Cut things short,' I thought. 'Does that imply there would have been more?'

I shook my head. "No, I understand. I was a bit worried at first. I thought I had offended you, but..." I swallowed. "Maybe we could continue things sometime?"

He smiled. The darkness did not leave his eyes. "I've just come from a bar, and I have nowhere to go," he said. "Would you consider harboring a drunken soldier this evening?"

"You're... drunk?" I asked.

He smiled tiredly, and then the shadows did leave his gaze. "No, not at all. It's only an expression. I'm just a bit worn out from a little alcohol and a great deal of activity."

Although I had never really pictured him drinking and going to parties, it didn't surprise me. He was a rough, wild, free spirit. Of course he was going to do rough, wild things. This brought a pang of fear to my heart, and a voice in the back of my mind whispered that some of these rough, wild things might be dangerous. That they might hurt me.

"Do you do these things often?" I asked, reluctantly.

"I'm in between assignments right now. Whenever I'm not on duty or on a mission, I can take part in life's more... distracting pleasures," he said. I noticed that he didn't directly answer my question.

I bit my lower lip. I didn't have to wonder what he meant. Briefly I pictured him doing some other, very... distracting things. There was a pause between us.

He tilted his head, causing a few strands of his dark hair to fall down in front of his right eye. His smile widened a bit. Perhaps he knew what I was thinking about. "So, are you interested?" he asked.

My heart was beating more quickly in my chest. That question had so many possible meanings. "I... I'd love to spend time with you tonight," I managed, finally.

"I'd like that," he said. He paused for a moment, and then spoke again. "You've seen my home twice now. Perhaps you could show me yours."

A thrill rushed through me. My place was warm, dim, and of course there was the fireplace. Derrun had called it romantic. I wanted nothing more than to take him there. Frantically I tried to recall if I'd cleaned the place recently. Usually I kept it tidy, so I decided to trust myself, although somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I wouldn't have turned him down anyway.

"It's very small," I warned. "And there isn't much to see."

He half-smiled and said looking straight into my eyes, "Yes, there is."

I didn't know what to say. Anticipation fluttered wildly in my stomach. "It's... it's just down the road," I stammered.

He nodded, and we began walking. We were fairly quiet the whole time, and this made me wonder even more what he had in mind. After a while he rested one hand on my shoulder, caressing the side of my neck with his thumb. It sent tingling pleasure through me. Less than fifteen minutes later we were back at the edge of town, standing at my front door.

I pushed the door open to darkness. I hurried inside and quickly turned on the two lamps-- one on the table near the fireplace, and one next to the big leather couch. They cast a subdued yellow light into the room. I had left the place fairly neat, except for a small pile of clothes next to the couch. Raajin stepped inside and looked around, while I knelt by the fireplace, trying to light the fireplace with some matches.

Raajin walked around casually, looking over things. "This is a very nice house," he said. "And it smells very much like you. I like that."

I paused what I was doing and sniffed the air a few times. "I don't smell anything," I said curiously.

He chuckled. "Of course you don't."

I tried to strike a match, but it wouldn't seem to light. I struck the blue end of the little stick across the strange rough paper again and again, but nothing happened. I was almost frantic; I wanted him to see the room filled with the placid, flickering atmosphere of firelight. Still, it just wouldn't work.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, standing behind me.

I turned and looked up at him from where I knelt. Somehow, as I gazed up at him, he seemed larger than life. His shoulders were broad, his pecs two hills of white fur. His thick black hair was pulled back as usual, almost down to his shoulders, with the few little strands that always fell down in front of his face.

"I..." I began, but my voice trailed off. He was smiling at me again. Not the dark smile he had earlier, and not the tired smile that somehow made him seem much older than he was. This was tender and affectionate. It made his chiseled face look soft and warm.

He didn't say anything. He bent his knees, lowering until he was sitting back on his heels behind me, with his legs apart. His leather pants creaked slightly, complaining at being stretched out so much, but they hugged his form all the same. His forearms rested on his knees, and his majestic, striped face was so close to mine.

"I'll show you how I light fires," he said. His voice was wispy, only just more than a whisper. "Turn and look at the wood."

I turned hesitantly, and then I felt him slide up against me. His long upper legs pressed to mine, black leather outside of white fur. His broad chest touched my back, and his chin brushed my ear. I listened to his breathing, and a shaky sigh of ecstasy escaped my lips.

"Are you comfortable?" he whispered. His words tickled the fur inside my ear, and I shuddered slightly. Then, as our bodies settled together, his scent wafted up to my nose. It was light but masculine, and I drew it into my body easily.

A nearly overwhelming sensation bubbled up from within me, boiling hot. 'I love you,' I almost said. The words were all I could think of for a moment. How could he be so beautiful, so utterly perfect? More than that, how could I not love him? I had only known him a short time, but I wanted to dive deep into his life, into that blazing fire of his heart the way I had plunged into the lake by his hands.

I swallowed, and felt a lump in my throat. "Y... yes," I whispered back.

"Good." With that, he reached his hands out in front of me. His shoulders, on either side of me, touched mine. He was almost hugging me. He splayed his fingers, and whispered, "Watch, and don't be frightened. You won't be hurt."

For a moment I thought I felt heat building up from behind me. His body seemed to be hotter than it was. Could that be possible?

Then suddenly, as if answering, the sticks and logs in the fireplace burst into flame. It was like fire splashed over the sticks, the way water splashed about when I fell into the lake. Only this came from nowhere.

I tried to jump back, but I pressed against him. I was three feet from the modest fire, and it was well-contained within the fireplace, but it had startled me. I knew the Raakh were capable of doing things like this, but I had never seen it in person.

His arms wrapped around me, thick, muscular forearms pressed against my chest and stomach. I actually felt his lips on my ear, "Are you alright?" He sounded very concerned. "Did I frighten you?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I've just never seen anything like that before," I said quietly.

The fire sparked and crackled, filling my nose with the exotic scent of burning wood. The small flames added a different atmosphere to the room. Fire always enchanted me, and I loved it so much.

Raajin whispered to me, "This is special fire. It comes straight from my soul. It's something I learned from the Dark Claw, to manifest the energy of the spirit in this form."

Slowly I turned my head. I shifted my body slightly, turning to face him. Still kneeling, I looked into his eyes. "Then you must have a very beautiful soul," I murmured.

He did not smile this time. His hand lifted to my face, and he pressed his palm gently to my cheek. His large fingers curled around to the side of my neck, and his thumb traced lightly over my lips. The pads of his fingers, as well as his hands, were pink and smooth. His thumb running over my lips felt smooth and very sensual.

His frame was large, and at times it made me feel small and weak in comparison. Yet it did not inspire fear in me. Desire? Yes, as well as awe and intrigue.

I also felt a sad sort of regret as I looked at him. He was larger than me far more than physically. Here was a man who had done more in twenty-five years than I would in my entire life. He had seen things, been places, and felt things I couldn't even begin to anticipate. A part of me knew that I would never truly be able to relate to him, and I regretted that permanent rift between us.

After a time of quiet (I did not know how long), he said, "This is very peaceful and romantic. I'm glad we're here tonight."

"So am I," I murmured. The orange flame danced off of his figure, reflecting, alive in his eyes.

I turned my head and nuzzled his hand, sliding mine over it. I wondered how many wonders he had held in his hand. Then I pulled it gently from my cheek, and held it before me, smooth, pink palm facing upward.

I curled my fingers around his larger ones. Our eyes met, and he looked at me with his cool, calculating stare as I lifted his hand, and rested my other over it, holding it between them. The contrast in size was not quite enough to make my hands look like a child's (I was slowly realizing that he wasn't quite as massive as he appeared, that it was more how he carried himself), but the difference was significant. The colors also did not match-- his fur was orange, and mine white, but to me they looked perfect together.

I simply held his hand there between us, feeling how warm it was on mine. The heel of his hand was smooth, barely furred at all, and it slid over mine, silent as a breeze and hot as the flames in the fireplace. His fingers were thicker and longer than mine, strong with muscle that had been forged through years of labor and battle. When I looked up at his face again, he seemed almost amused at my fascination, but he did not speak.

"Your hands are so beautiful," I said softly, tracing my finger over the bare pads.

"They are instruments of death," he said to me, quiet as ever. "I've killed men with these hands."

"But that's part of your life. It's what you have to do," I said, looking up into his eyes. "You're so powerful. Sometimes I think you're... you're invincible."

Raajin shook his head. He sighed softly. "I'm not invincible," he said. "My size and strength don't make me impervious to pain. Do you still have the knife I gave to you?"

I nodded. "It's on my wall," I said.

"Would you bring it to me?" he asked.

In moments I had taken it from it place hanging beside the fireplace. I knelt before him again, and held it out to him.

He grasped the handle of the dagger and pointed the tip downward, pressing it to one of his fingertips. I watched him press it firmly, as the razor tip of the knife made a slight depression in the smooth finger pad, and then brought forth a slow, thin trickle of blood. He set the knife aside.

I gazed up at him, horrified. "Why did you do that?"

He smiled tiredly, bringing his fingertip to his lips. He licked it once with his broad tongue, and then, when he showed it to me again, the tiny wound was sealed up. It hadn't disappeared, but it was closed, and the blood was gone.

"I bleed the same as you do," he murmured. "Don't ever doubt that. You're a man, the same as I am. A handful of years and a civilization might separate you and I, but they can't make either of us superior."

I stared up at him in wonder, only barely comprehending. He touched my cheek, cupping it in his large hand. "Do you consider yourself my friend?" he asked.

"I... I'd like to think so," I replied.

He nodded once. "I would lay down my life for a friend." He leaned closer. Stared at me with those eyes. Oh, I remember those eyes every time I lay in bed at night. They were so deep, so vividly earthen I knew I could fall into them and drown. Even without hearing his voice, I could see a mixture of emotions in them. On the surface were calm recognition, and his quiet wisdom. Beneath, however, was sadness so immense that I had to look down to escape it.

I thought he would say more, but he didn't. His hand, the hand he wounded for me, lifted to my face once again, and it slid back, his fingers curling behind my head.

'I do love you,' I thought. 'I don't now exactly when it happened, but it's here, full force.'

He whispered to me, "If you ever feel afraid, or if you think I'm going to hurt you, will you tell me?" I actually felt his breath on my whiskers. I suddenly realized that we were gradually moving closer to one another. His hand behind my head was encouraging me, almost imperceptibly.

'He is going to kiss me,' I realized with a sudden frantic anticipation. I wanted it to happen, but at the same time I wanted to savor it, this new thing. I opened my mouth to respond, and spoke the first word that came out, "Anything." Then I amended, "Anything you wish, Raajin."

His muzzle closed in, and then I felt it. His lips touched mine. It was not a kiss as much as a caress of the lips, flowing and undefined. His bottom lip searched over mine, wet and smooth, unassuming and yet exploring freely, with innocence that seemed so new from him. New, but somehow not out of place. Our eyes were half-closed, mere slits. I believe that in those minutes of silence, of shared desire, we both memorized the evening-- the sounds of the fireplace popping and crackling as the wood was consumed by heat, the smell of smoke and pine embers that filled the room. It was all part of the music that continued to echo through the night. I suspected that neither of us would ever forget the exact shade of the other's eyes after that evening, or the scent the fireplace radiated into the room.

I had kissed in the past. Not very much, but during some of those explorations in my youth I kissed some of my friends. And there was a vague memory, hazy and unclear, of a time I had kissed Derrun. This, however, made all of those memories empty and faded in comparison. This was vivid.

Time passed as we sat there, but I didn't feel it. His lips tugged on mine, wetting them. His bottom lip was larger than mine, and I lightly sought it with my teeth, nibbling very gently on the plump, glistening pink flesh. Sometimes he would slip his tongue out to search for mine, but we did not kiss deeply-- it was like a tender dance that slowly progressed from hesitant, almost taunting caresses to more deliberate, purposeful touch. Hours could have slipped away and I would not have known. Finally he faltered, and then retreated silently, his face a few inches from mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I closed it again, realizing that my mouth itself was dry.

"Your lips are like silk," he whispered. "But... I shouldn't be doing this."

That broke me from my enchantment. I tilted my head slightly. "Why not?" I asked softly.

He looked genuinely regretful. "I know you're attracted to me," he told me. "But there are things you don't know about me. I... I don't want to end up hurting you."

I shook my head. "How would you hurt me?" I asked, bewildered. He was tender, overwhelmingly passionate-- I could sense that, even beneath his calm, aloof exterior, and I couldn't imagine him purposely harming me.

He looked down for a moment, and then he touched the side of my neck. "I need freedom. I'm like a wild, untamed animal. I go my own way and I do as I please, and be with whom I please. If... if I couldn't do these things, I would waste away to nothing. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" he asked softly.

I thought about it. He needed freedom to wander and do what he wanted. Was he worried that I would try to take up all his time? That was silly. He didn't want to be confined. I knew that. Still, I could sense that there was more to his warning that just that. I didn't understand what else troubled him so much, but I believed that if I remembered to not confine him, he would be okay.

"I won't ever hold you back, Raajin. When you need to go off and do your own things, I'll understand," I told him.

I eased forward slightly, pressing against the hand he had placed on my neck. He caressed my cheek, stroking along my jaw. My own hand reached toward him, and I let my fingers glide through the warm, silky fur of his strong shoulder.

"You are so innocent and pure," he said quietly. His eyes glistened in the firelight. They were becoming moist. "So many don't understand. I... I just can't bear to hurt you. It would be better just to leave now. That's why I had to tell you now... before. It's too late afterward." Incredibly, he looked close to tears.

I nodded slowly, and compassion welled up inside me. I cupped his face gently in my hands. He had said 'before'. That meant something was going to happen between us. But perhaps what stood out in my mind most was what he had said about leaving. The thought of him walking out now was unbearable to me.

"Well, now you've warned me," I whispered. "You won't hurt me. I promise that if I ever feel afraid of that, I will tell you."

He gazed at me, and he seemed more at peace. "Will it frighten you if I taste those silky lips of yours again?" he asked softly, almost smiling.

I was breathless, and my heart pounded inside me. Being so close to him was intoxicating. "Please..." I hissed softly

We neared one another slowly, and my eyes did not leave his. He met me half way, his face perhaps an inch from mine. Our noses touched, and I trembled inside. He kissed my lips then-- I felt his warm furry ones brush over mine softly, tugging with his amazing gentleness. I tilted my head slightly, and fit my mouth against his. It was intimate, more deliberate than before.

I knew that he wouldn't stop us again. He had warned me. For some reason he felt compelled to warn me, and I had given him permission. Now he wanted to continue, and he would, unless I stopped him. Where it would lead, I didn't know, but by the end of the evening, I knew I would find out.

* * *

Chapter 4, Nocturne (Part II)

Time passed as we kissed before the fire, but it rushed by around us, the way the river's current parts around a stone, leaving it affected by the impetuous flow. Perhaps it was the eerie glow of the firelight, or the smoothness of Raajin's touch, which was somehow hotter than the flame, that coaxed us outside the stream of time.

My hand wandered up his strong, thick neck, over the square jaw that was in constant motion as our lips touched and our tongues danced, and I buried my fingers into his thick black hair. We were kneeling, and even through the slight distance between our bodies I could feel the heat radiating from him.

Then, after a while, he gently pulled back from me, his eyes half-closed. His face, so filled with placid thoughtfulness, nearly touching mine.

"That was... incredible," I breathed, panting softly. I was consumed with the need, the hunger to be close to him, to wrap myself up in his essence. The need surrounded me and swallowed me up, leaving me breathless and filled with wonder.

The corner of his lips twitched, as though he was holding back a smile. He kissed me again, but quickly, just a light peck on the lips. Then he stood up slowly, his leather pants making that odd creaking sound. I looked up at him, puzzled, and I touched his leg, feeling the smooth material and the strong muscle beneath.

He began to unbutton his black vest, slowly unfastening one button at a time. He pulled it open and peeled it away from his body, letting it fall to the floor by his feet, exposing his white-furred barrel chest.

It was not the first time he had undressed in front of me, of course, but this was under very different circumstances. Somehow, the way he said absolutely nothing, the way he just stared down at me, made me shiver. He was showing himself off deliberately, with no pretenses.

"I don't have any plans tonight to interrupt us," he said softly, finally, staring at me with those brown eyes.

Shakily inwardly, I climbed to my feet, and a realization rippled through my thoughts like a pebble tossed into a quiet lake, 'He wants me.'

He placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned toward me slightly, tilting his head to one side. My heart was racing. I looked down at his beautiful body, the firelight casting dark shadows from all his muscles, accentuating his sculpted form. I eased closer to him and glanced down at his lips. I kissed them lightly, feeling their warm, full caress.

Then, all at once, I forgot where he ended and I began. He parted his lips and slid his broad, hot tongue gently but firmly between lips, over my own. His taste was delicious, carrying traces of sweet wine. His arms wrapped around me and cradled my body, pressing me against him. My world became the heat and scent of his body, and the maze of muscle under his fur, encasing me.

My soft moan was stifled as our tongues wrestled, lips sealed together. He slid deep into my mouth, and I relaxed my jaw, opening myself up to him. His leg slipped between mine, and I felt his manhood pressing against me, a thick, hard bulge, sandwiched between our rhythmically shifting bodies.

His muzzle retreated from mine, and with it he took my breath. He rested his chin on my forehead, while we both panted quietly. I looked up into his lust-smitten eyes.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he breathed. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," I whispered. It was all I could manage. My thoughts were a hazy mist of desire. I wanted him. I burned for him.

We kissed again, lips to wet lips. He slid a hand down my back, tracing the contour of my spine. His finger slipped beneath the waistband of my pants, and his strong hand cupped my rump, pressing me tight against him.

I moaned again softly, as my tongue tentatively explored his lips and teeth. Suddenly I felt him sucking firmly, pulling my tongue into his muzzle. He tugged on my tongue, his wet, slick mouth encasing it. It was the most unusual, erotic thing I had ever felt. But, of course, the night was young.

'So,' I thought. 'This is what it is to arouse a man's lust.'

His words echoed through my mind. 'Would you consider harboring a drunken soldier?' he had said.

He was a soldier. A killing machine. Strong and mature in ways I couldn't even begin to anticipate. This wasn't playful or silly, as my past had been. It was real and serious. I began to understand how things like this could be dangerous if misused.

My tongue was pulled into his mouth, and similarly, the object of my sex poked out, gently crushed against his thigh through my silk pants. Gradually we pulled back to take a breath, and our lips parted with a soft, wet click. His nose rested against mine, and we both breathed heavily, exchanging the air that passed between us.

His free hand found my chest, and he began to unfasten my shirt. It was just a few ties and buttons, and his fingers disarmed them with surprising dexterity. He opened up my shirt and slid his big hand inside, his smooth palm running over my slim chest. Gazing down at me, he slipped the shirt off of my shoulders, letting it fall silently to the floor. His hands ran up and down my sides slowly, his thumbs pausing to run circles around my small nipples.

"You are very beautiful," he murmured, caressing me like a fragile piece of art. As his hands rose up my sides, a frantic thrill of rushed through me, like air bubbles rising to the surface of a lake.

I was amazed. He found *me* beautiful? I hadn't even considered that!

"S...so are you," I whispered back. "You have an incredible body."

We looked at one another in silent desire as I reached my hands out, resting them on his firm pecs.

"That's one benefit of working myself past my limit," he said softly. "It gives me a very touchable body." He slowly lifted his arms, and placed his hands behind his head, elbows in the air. He tilted his hips out slightly and tensed his stomach, making his entire torso ripple with warm, furry muscle.

"Go ahead," he whispered. "Do as you like." There was a slight smile on his face, of enjoyment, and perhaps some pride. He had a right to be proud of himself, though; he spent every day of his life working and toning himself.

My heart pounded in my chest. I had been longing to touch him freely since I met him, and he now openly invited me to do it. I ran my hands slowly down his pecs, which were pulled taut by his raised arms, and his stomach, the two columns of square muscles, framed in his lower abdomen. They disappeared into his leather pants, just below his navel. There was a huge bulge there, between his legs, pressing against the fabric, trying to escape. It pointed to the right, and through the leather I could make out the shape of the head.

I gazed down at his chest, which expanded and contracted slowly. Leaning forward, I nuzzled the soft white fur, rubbing my face gently between the furry slabs of muscle. My nose trailed along to the right, until I found his nipple, pink among the carpet of white fur. It was a firm, small bud. I licked it with my wet tongue, and he grunted. Being so close to his chest, the sound was deep and gratifying. I swirled my tongue around the round nipple, and gently nibbled on it.

His body carried its own scent, neither sweet nor bitter, but somehow both at the same time. The lower I moved, however, the more aware I became of another scent, much more powerful, much more enticing. With my teeth I tugged lightly on his nipple, and he inhaled sharply. Still lower I sank, almost on my knees. My fingers trailed slowly down his stomach, and my knees touched the ground.

"Take the knife from my belt," he told me softly.

I looked up at him, dazedly. "What?"

His smile broadened a little. "The knife in my belt, on my left side-- take it."

I saw it. It was the knife he had given me, the one he had used to cut his finger. Sometime while we knelt together he must have slipped it between the tight belt and his pants, on his left hip. I pulled it out carefully by the handle.

"I'm all yours," he said softly, clearly amused. "Cut the belt away and undress me."

My mouth fell open slowly, and I looked up at him, confused. "A... are you sure?"

He nodded. "Very sure," he said. "If it's what you want."

Hesitantly I slipped the blade between his belt and the waist of his leather pants, careful not to touch the sharp tip to him. I awkwardly worked it up and down, rubbing the sharp edge against the dark material. Eventually it began give way, and it broke open.

"Yes, that's good," he whispered, almost purring.

I was beginning to understand the eroticism of it. I set the knife on the floor, and my trembling hands touched the thick bulge between his legs. It was hot, and as I ran my fingers across it, I could feel its rigid surface pulsing slightly.

I was fascinated. I felt almost faint-- inside was the very object of his manhood, filled with the hot blood of his passion, and he was letting me touch it! Something inside me hungered for more, to feel it against me with no clothing between us. I pulled the leather pants down from his hips, and it peeled away from his fur, slipping down his legs, almost to his knees.

His manhood sprung free, and it took my breath away. Even the other night when I had seen it, it wasn't fully hard. Yet now it was thick, long and throbbing. His large furry spheres hung low, free from the hot confines of his clothes. A thick, heady scent of male arousal wafted out to me, and at first it was too much-- I could scarcely handle it. He smelled so much of sex, so much of masculine lust that I couldn't hold back. My sense of awe was fading away and something else was taking over, a raw feeling of want that overrode rational thought.

I reached out and cupped my fingers under his big shaft, holding it in my smooth hand. He sighed softly in appreciation and parted his legs slightly, causing his balls to sway a little.

I felt the weight of his maleness. It was heavy in my fingers, and it was so thick-- I couldn't quite close my hand over it! It pulsed in my cautious grip, as hot blood rushed through the hard shaft. It was solid and uniform in its width, extending to the dark head that was just slightly wider than the rest.

The skin was silky and smooth. It was fairly loose, also, and I could maniputale it with my fingers. As I lightly stroked my hand toward to tip, it rolled up over the head, nearly covering it. Foreskin. I don't know why had I expected his manhood to be different from mine, but it was shaped the same. Still, it was so much larger!

Raajin stopped moving. As I ran my hand slowly from the base to the tip, he breathed more deeply and loudly. I rolled the loose, silky skin over the head, and then pulled it back, my smooth palm searching back down the rigid cock. His breath caught in his chest for a moment and then continued, deep and resonant.

I was entranced by what was happening. Raajin, who was so large in so many ways, who frightened me sometimes and seduced me always... here was the very thing that made him male, and he was offering it to me, letting me pleasure him.

His cock head faced me, the slit seeming to stare at me like an eye. I slipped my free hand beneath his large balls, feeling around beneath them, in wonder at their size. His cock twitched a bit, and squeezed a few drops of clear liquid from the tip. They ran down the front of the pinkish shaft, dripping off silently.

And it glistened along that moist trail, so wonderfully smooth! So much like his lips, which I had kissed before, slick and wet...

As I thought of this, I leaned forward, diving into that musky smell of arousal, and I pressed my lips to his shaft, kissing it. He groaned and tilted his hips forward, arching his back slightly and spreading his legs, bending his knees. I kissed it again, this time using my tongue, kissing more openly and licking the surface tentatively. It tasted faintly salty, and I found it delightful.

I neared the tip, lick-kissing my way along the throbbing surface, while Raajin whispered grateful encouragement to me, sounding both amazed and dreamy. My pink nose touched the very tip of his cock, and I felt it was moist with that clear precum. With a strange tingle in my stomach, I opened my mouth, and pressed my tongue to the slit, gently licking away the liquid. It was also salty.

I paused to look up at Raajin. His jaw was slack, his mouth hanging open, and a little drop of saliva beaded on the tip of his panting tongue. His eyes were nearly closed, and one hand was pressed to his chest, firmly pinching and tugging on his nipple. His throat worked as he swallowed. With his eyes he silently beckoned me to continue.

Slowly I pressed my lips to the tip of his manhood. Forming a little 'o' with my lips, I gradually engulfed the head in my mouth, pulling it past my lips. It was very big and round, and as more of that precum dripped onto my tongue, I was rewarded with the salty taste again. I needed more. I longed to take more of this man's cock into my mouth, even just to feel it filling me up.

I knew I couldn't take the entire meaty cock in my mouth. It was thick, but the width wasn't the problem; I estimated that it was about nine inches long. Gripping the base in my hand, I slid forward. I opened my mouth wider and pulled more of his cock in, sliding my tongue out to cup the underside.

It was a hard, rubbery bulk in my muzzle. I had never even seen one so big before, let alone touched one! It filled me up, and pressed at the back of my throat, the slippery foreskin sliding over my tongue. Gazing up at him again, I could see a far-away look in his eyes, as he stared through me, past me.

Thus began a slow back and forth rhythm. I slid forward, swallowing up as much of his manhood as I could. It was rigid, and the skin slid back and forth as I engulfed it. He encouraged me from time to time with breathless whispers like, "Ohhh yes, just like that..." or "...ahh... faster..."

What I couldn't swallow I stroked with my hands. Eventually my jaw became tired, and I backed off. I suckled gently, pulling the pink foreskin over the head. It hugged it the way my shirt sleeve rolls up my arm. In a way it was a hot, smooth sleeve of flesh.

I darted my tongue stealthily in between the foreskin and the head, curving my tongue to the round shape of his cock. He moaned deeply, languidly, rolling his head on his shoulders a little.

"Oh fuck... yeah, I like that," he whispered.

I obliged, swirling my tongue in a circular motion, caressing him intimately.

His occasional moans and encouragement became louder. His shaft was producing a more constant flow of precum, and it tensed at my touch more often. Time passed then... how much, I'll never know.

I began to suck on him again, and as I adjusted to the shape and contour of his member, I could take more in. I felt it pressing out at my muzzle, and I'm sure Raajin could see the furry bulge it made in my white cheeks. My hand slid under his big testes, the warm furry balls, and I cupped them, fingers sliding back once again into the warm trail between his legs.

But then I was interrupted, for the next moment Raajin was shuddering slightly above me. He had both hands buried in his hair behind his head, and his stomach was tensed beautifully, the intricate curves visible in the flickering firelight.

"Aaaaahhg..." he moaned in a strained voice. "I'm... c-cumming, Less--"

I continued to bob on his cock, but he reached down to gently, but insistently pull me back, off of his member. "T... too much," he said, snarling now as pleasure overtook him. I didn't understand what he meant by 'too much'.

I stroked his manhood, and felt it begin to spasm, tensing amazingly. He cried out in a loud, breathy voice, "Aaaarrghhh... Oh fuck... FUCKYES... AWWWwww... AWWWHHHhhhaaa..."

Then his voice took on a harsher tone, and I heard a steadily growing growl coming from him.

I backed away from his shaft a bit, a thin, drooping trail of saliva running from my lips to his cockhead. I held it in my hands, stroking its wet surface slowly as it twitched and spasmed. It seemed to swell and jump in my grip, and then suddenly a thick jet of hot, white liquid burst forth and splattered over my lips and nosepad.

He thrust his hips toward me, and his manhood stood out diagonally as it tensed and twitched, spurting thick ropes of white semen. I held his cock as he writhed and moaned, and more of the thick seed blasted out in voluminous jets. Some of it dripped onto my tongue, and as I tasted it I felt dizzy and amazed, realizing what I was doing. It was tangy stuff, salty and bitter at the same time.

I held his cock while it fired out another volley of cum, much less this time. His moans quieted, and eventually his shaft grew still, tensing only occasionally, and dry when it did. I understood what he meant by 'too much'. I wouldn't have been able to handle all of that at once. Not unprepared, anyway.

Raajin shuddered deeply, one final time as his climax subsided, looking down at me with a kind of pleasure-drunken fascination. I looked up into his eyes, with my cum-spattered face, filled with awe.

He let out a deep, gratified sigh, and offered his hand to me. "Come here," he murmured. I slid my hand into his, and he helped me to my feet.

"Was that oka--" I began, but he silenced me with a kiss. He pressed his full, warm lips to mine, and we kissed openly, deeply. His mouth felt cooler than it had before, somehow. His tongue slipped over mine, tasting the product of his own lust. He cradled my head in his hand, and his other arm was around my waist, holding me in an intimate embrace.

"Was that your first time?" he asked softly as our lips parted. He was smiling tenderly at me.

"Well, it's been years since I did that with anyone, and..." I paused. "I never had anyone as big as you before."

He grinned and kissed my lips again, very tenderly. "You did very well for a beginner, then," he murmured. "It took a lot of restraint for me just to stand still."

We kissed again for a little while, hugging close and caressing one another. Raajin slipped his pants all the way down to the floor, and he kicked them away with one foot.

I was still deeply aroused, and my erection pressed against his thigh. Still, just as the fire in the fireplace was beginning to dim and lose its intensity, so was my energy. Only a few times in my life had I ever been up all night, and it was taking its toll on me. My kisses became more gentle and languid.

Slowly he began to sink before me. Bending his knees, he lowered down, pressing his lips to the side of my neck, and then down to my thin chest, nuzzling at a nipple with his moist feline nose. He kissed my stomach, and wormed his tongue into my navel. I quivered and tried to fight back a giggle. It was ticklish.

Taking the waist of my pants into his fingers he pulled them carefully down my legs. I watched, entranced, as he slid the thin silk from my body. it pooled around my ankles. Raajin lifted one foot at a time to free me of them, sliding his palm under my smooth heel, pulling each pants leg off.

He nuzzled my calf, looking up at me, working his way upward again. His hands curved to the shape of my leg, and they traveled slowly upward, tracing the contours of my body. My manhood stuck out, hard as a nail, and as he approached it, I trembled. The sensation of being touched was intimate and thrilling.

His nose touched the tender furry balls that hung beneath my maleness. I nearly jumped at the feel of it. Raajin took a slow, deep breath and murmured, "Ohh, you smell so wonderful!"

I was breathing more quickly. Then he began to nuzzle under my fuzzy sac, into the warm, very sensitive place beneath. I gasped, and tilted my head back. My heart pounded. I had never been touched there before, and his feather touches raced through me wildly. I felt him slide his tongue out and slowly, tauntingly lick along that shadowed pleasure trail. I spread my legs to give him more room, and my weak knees nearly buckled.

"Th... that's so nice..." I whispered.

My hands hung down at my sides, and they found his head. I slid my fingers into his hair again, dazedly watching him. He backed away after some time, and he kissed the smooth, red underside of my throbbing manhood. He pressed his lips to it, and ran them from the base to the tip. They were wet, warm, and slippery, gliding soundlessly over the tender flesh. He paused at the tip to lick lightly, tasting a clear drop of precum at the slit. Pleasure rippled through my body, adrenaline making all of my senses sharpened and acute, even in my drowsy state.

Then I watched him slowly move forward, and I shuddered, closing my eyes as the most tender part of my body was enveloped in the slick, warm depths of his muzzle. I watched his strong jaw tense and felt his broad, hot tongue slide down my sensitive shaft, sending waves of pleasure crashing down on me.

He slid back, leaving my glistening maleness with a tender kiss.

"Come, kneel down," he said softly. He placed a hand on my hip and gently coaxed me.

I got down to my knees and looked at him. He leaned toward me and kissed my lips, then my chin, and my neck. His hands traveled down my naked body, and as they moved downward, they slipped inside my thighs. He pressed at the inside of my legs, parting them further as he kissed lower and lower on my chest, then my stomach.

He turned around them, and laid flat on the carpet, his head between my legs, and his body stretched out along the carpet before me.

"Ease down on me," he whispered. Spreading my legs a little more, I lowered down on, and he pulled me down gently but insistently with his hands.

That's when I felt his tongue. The warm, textured wetness of his tongue pressed against that lightly-furred, incredibly sensitive trail between my legs, behind my balls. I shuddered, and, without even realizing it, I gave in, pressing down more firmly onto him. He began to lick then, but not the light, taunting way he had before. This time he pressed his full tongue to me and stroked me in long, wet swipes. I scarcely breathed, as each lick sent tingles cascading through my body.

Absently I reached for my moist sex and began to stroke it, moaning softly. It felt so amazingly good coupled with the ministrations of his mouth!

Then, after some time, I don't know quite how long, he lifted me with his hands.

"Put your cock in my mouth," he whispered. "Give it to me." Looking down, I could see his parted his lips, and his wet, pink tongue, so soft and inviting...

I was beyond the ability to question. I bent over a little, pointing the tip of my cock toward his parted lips. With the slight curve of my stiff rod, and the way Raajin tilted his head back, it would angle perfectly into his muzzle.

'What an amazing position,' I thought. 'If I were big enough, I'd slide right down his throat.'

I placed my hands on his chest, arching my back up, watching as the tip of my cock touched his lips and slipped inside. I was very gentle, not wanting to hurt him, but he was hungry for me.

I felt his hands on my buttocks, pulling me down onto him. In seconds the sensitive surface of my maleness pressed against his wet tongue, and as he firmly coaxed me down, it disappeared inside, eased into the moist tightness of his mouth.

I groaned as I felt his tongue begin it's slow, intimate dance around my shaft. He held me down until I was actually leaning on his face, my throbbing staff impaling his muzzle. The next few minutes were a haze. He sucked on me almost silently, and after some coaxing I began to rock my hips, slipping forward and back in the tight passage he provided me. I didn't feel a single tooth-- it was all the inviting, enveloping wet heat. The gentle, insistent suckling made me almost dizzy with pleasure.

'I'm fucking his mouth,' I realized dimly. He seemed to be loving it, from the grateful moans he rewarded me with. His fingers splayed on my butt, and one slid between my cheeks, pressing lightly under my tail, at the sensitive pucker there. I tensed up and felt myself approaching my climax. So much stimulus, so many complex new experiences... it was all so overwhemling.

Rocking back and forth, I could feel my cock rubbing over his tongue, and into the back of his mouth, while he kept his tongue in motion, swirling it around me and tugging, slurping away. Looking down between his legs, I could see his own manhood was hard and throbbing once again, pointing toward me. I reached out to touch it, but that's when I saw stars, and my intense pleasure came to its peak.

I cried out and collapsed onto his stomach, pistoning my cock into his wet muzzle, losing all inhibitions under the incredible sensations. This seemed only to spur him on, for he began swallowing my shaft with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue cupping the length and swathing it with heat. The pressure built up in my furry balls until finally there was that tremendous sense of release, and I spurted my seed into his mouth. I held on to him tightly, murmuring words I could barely hear, and I held very still, hilted inside him as my cock tensed and throbbed, firing out spurts of my cum. I could feel him swallowing it, and I know I hadn't produced as much as he had.

I rode the waves of esctasy for a while, my mouth hanging open, and them slowly they began to subside, leaving me with a melancholy feeling of loss as the fever pitch left me.

I sighed deeply and my body began to relax. I pulled out of Raajin's mouth, (very carefully!) and I rolled off of him, onto the carpet, completely spent. I was exhausted from having very little sleep, exhausted from pleasuring him, and most of all, exhausted from working myself into such a frenzy. I panted softly.

Raajin sat up, and he licked his lips. "Thank you, Lessan," he murmured. "That was wonderful."

I gazed up at him dazedly, my eyes half-open. "Thank *you*," I said quietly. "I've never done that before."

He grinned and climbed over me, kneeling on the carpet. His legs straddled my hips, and he seemed to tower over me, huge and awesome. I looked up at him, the white milky fur that spilled down the front of his muscular body like a waterfall, rolling down to his big, hard cock, which pointed toward me like a great red tree-trunk, with its clear juice leaking down the front.

He curled his fingers around it and began to slowly stroke his tool, tilting his head back slightly and moaning. I had never watched him touch his own cock, and as he knelt over me, running his hand over his shaft, he took my breath away.

"I wanted to teach you to be more assertive when you have sex," he whispered huskily. "With me, never be afraid to take the..." he sighed, and looked back down at me lustfully. "...initiative. We're both equal... we each deserve... ahh..."

Pleasuring himself, one hand roaming over his body while his other rubbed his sex, it was like he was making love to himself. But no, that wasn't quite right. It was more like he was consumed with lust itself, as though the very act of sexual gratification filled him up with its burning, fiery heat, and became like an intangible lover to him. His hand worked his manhood dexterously, up and down, tugging on the foreskin, sometimes pausing to swirl around the head a little. His other hand roamed down, under his balls, feeling around as he arched his back slightly.

He looked down at me, his eyes wild with desire. Only more basic than that, more primal. "I'm going... to cum..." he breathed. It sounded very matter-of-fact, almost mechanical.

He bared his teeth, showing off a set of deadly fangs. He hissed out slowly, and then suddenly his breath caught in his chest. He grunted and let out a deep growl of satisfaction. His hand pumped his meat, and he moaned deeply.

"YYyyyeaahhh..." he moaned as his cock spurted out a spray of cum onto my chest. Some hit my chin, feeling warm and moist. Another spurt, a moment later, did little more than drip from the tip, oozing quickly down over his fingers. More followed like this, as esctasy enraptured him.

Finally his orgasm subsided and he relaxed above me, propped up on one hand, panting softly and gazing into my eyes. He brought his wet hand to his lips and licked away the milky trail left behind.

I reached up to touch his face, my beautiful Raajin. He touched a finger tip my lips, and I kissed it. We gazed at one another for a long, long time in the firelight. I watched it flickering across his face, and twinkling in his deep eyes.

We didn't speak-- there was no need to. He traced the shape of my face with his fingertip, and I did the same, following the sharp stripes on his cheeks. I poured out my heart to him silently, and I could feel the fire of his love washing over me with all its warmth and dancing colors.

Cutting cleanly into the silence, he said softly, "Let's get you to bed."

I nodded slowly, and I felt him slip one arm under my legs and another behind my back, lifting me from the floor. He touched my body with a new familiarity, and it felt so natural, so perfect. His lust was wild and untamed, but beneath that, his compassion and honor were fierce, wrapping around me, as complete and strong as his powerful arms. The night music returned to me then, tugging the strings of my heart, of love and romance and tenderness.

I was drifting off to sleep quickly, but said dimly, "The last time you picked me up like this, you threw me in the lake." I laughed weakly.

"Well," he said, lowering me onto the soft sheets (had they never felt his soft before? Or perhaps I had never been this tired?). "You've already gotten as wet as you're going to tonight. Although, you might want to bathe sometime soon, to get the... product out of your fur."

"Okay," I said dreamily. I looked up at him. A moment passed when it seemed like me might turn and leave. I was in bed, and our sexual escapades were done for the evening. He had left me feeling good. Perhaps he considered everything resolved.

Some part in the back of my mind whispered, 'This is when he usually goes home.'

But, drowning out that little voice, he murmured, "Roll over, kitten. Make room for the big drunken soldier."

I moved to one side, toward the wall, and he lay down on the bed beside me. I slid up against him, nuzzling my head under his arm, fitting there like a puzzle piece, and I laid one arm across. He kissed the top of my head. "Good night," he whispered.

"Mmmm..." I mumbled groggily, hardly able to pull together the strength to reply. The last thing I remember was glancing down between his legs at his manhood and noticing that it was hard again, standing up and pulsing with his heartbeat. 'Amazing,' I thought. 'That thing never gets tired.'

Then I was gone, the night music fading into the distance, drifting into a sleep filled with strange dreams.

I never did find out what time it was-- I awoke to the rising sun, alone in bed. Apparently Raajin had left some time during the night. Although, I happened to glance at the wall next to the fireplace. The fire had gone out, and, hanging from its usual place, was the knife he had given me. Seeing that, a warm certainty filled my heart that I would see him again soon.