~ Afterglow ~
After a long evening of wandering paws, wicked teasing, and a massage that turned far more intimate than expected, Marilla finds herself blissfully boneless atop the stallion who wrecked her—with love.
As candlelight dims and warmth lingers between them, the morning after becomes a personal day neither intends to forget. Kade warned her, of course. She just didn’t listen. Now she’s learning… very slowly, possibly over multiple rounds.
~ Afterglow ~
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
November 2025
All Rights Reserved.
Chapter One: For Love of a Stallion
Marilla leaned against the balcony railing, her powerful kangaroo tail curled lazily for balance as the cool dusk breeze whispered across the property, teasing the tan fur along her shoulders. Her mid-back–length hair—sun-kissed light brown—spilled down one side as she watched the field below.
Kade.
Sweat gleamed on the pale chocolate of his coat, his shirt long discarded. Each swing of the spade sent smooth, corded muscle rippling beneath his skin. Dirt clung to his gloves and socks; his nostrils flared with each labored breath. She could feel him from here—raw, grounded, masculine. Hers.
No girlish crush. No breathless flirtation. This was marrow-deep, steady love. The kind that didn’t fade. Didn’t flinch. Her family’s disapproval stung, sure—but regret? That never came close.
The last of the sun brushed across Kade’s sweat-slicked back as he finally paused, breathing deep, chest rising and falling like a temple bell calling her heart to kneel.
A creak of hinges snapped her ears back toward the house. The screen door groaned open. Heavy hoof-falls thudded across the porch floorboards.
She didn’t turn. She didn’t have to.
Every instinct in her already burned with the knowledge of him.
His heat hit her first. Then the scent—rich, earthy, threaded with sweat and stallion and sunbaked wood. Her tail flicked slowly across the boards.
Then his voice, close and low, rough from heat and honest work:
“You watching me again, Miss Marilla?”
She turned—slowly—letting him drink in the look she gave him over one shoulder. Blue eyes, rare and bright, sparkled with heat and mischief.
Kade filled the doorway like a promise. Mane damp, clinging in places to his neck. His chest rose and fell with deep, post-work exhales, his skin gleaming. That look—half amusement, half smolder—was all for her.
She didn’t walk to him. She flowed. Two steps, and her paws pressed to his chest—hot, firm, perfect under her touch.
She rose onto her toes. Tugged him down.
Kissed him.
No hesitation. Just fire.
He froze for a breath, then groaned low in his chest as the stallion in him surged up to meet her. His arms locked around her waist and pulled her close, lifting her effortlessly. Her muzzle tilted, lips parting just enough to let the kiss burn deeper.
Salt. Heat. Him.
Her fingers curled in his damp mane as her breath caught against his.
When they parted, both panting, Marilla leaned back against the balcony rail with a smirk that could have set the wood behind her alight.
"I do so love a sweaty stallion," she murmured sweetly, dragging each word out just long enough to make his nostrils flare.
Kade's ears flicked back. His eyes darkened with that look that meant trouble—the good kind.
He stepped close, shoulder grazing hers, and dipped his muzzle to her ear.
"I know you do."
Before she could tease, he swept her off her feet in one practiced lift—paws bracing under her thighs. Her giggle came too late to stop it, and her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. Her arms locked around his shoulders as she squeaked, tail flicking in surprise.
“Hey—!”
“I need a shower,” he growled playfully. “I’m hot. I’m filthy. And I’ve got one melting kangaroo in my arms…”
Her chest was pressed to his like a heartbeat waiting to trip.
…so,” he added with a grin, “you’re coming with me.”
“Oh, I hope so,” she whispered, lips brushing his ear.
Kade’s breath caught. Then:
“Marilla…” A husky warning, laced with affection and restraint that thinned by the second.
“I am behaving,” she teased.
One little nip under his jaw. His arms tightened. She giggled.
And just like that, the door slammed shut behind them with a soft thud.
The shower was waiting.
They’d get there.
Eventually.
*
Chapter Two: Heated Intentions
Marilla shifted in his arms, lifted her chin, and gasped in mock outrage.
"Unhand me, you beast! You—you monster!" she declared, smacking at his shoulder with all the ferocity of an irritable butterfly.
Kade didn’t even blink.
One brow arched. Just one.
"That all you’ve got?" he asked dryly.
"No! Put me down so I can hit you properly!"
"Not happening," he said, hitching her up with insulting ease. Her legs tightened around his waist automatically. "You’re coming with me, little menace."
Her ears dipped, pout melting into a dreamy sigh as she nestled against his neck.
"Fine... carry me, you glorious brute."
He snorted, equal parts amused and completely, helplessly smitten. "Thought so."
With a casual nudge of his hip, he pushed the bathroom door closed. Marilla clung like a sleepy vine, her muzzle tucked into his neck, breath warm against his fur.
"Gods," she murmured, thick with affection and something sweeter. "You touch me and I just... melt."
"Oh, I’ve noticed," he replied, entirely too smug for someone so gentle.
"One more minute like this," she sighed, "and someone’s going to have to change the sheets."
"We’re not even in the bedroom."
"I know," she replied, dramatically wistful. "I’m like an ice-cream doe in summer. Just—" she wiggled a paw vaguely, "—dripping everywhere."
Kade stopped walking. Slowly. Deliberately. His ears flicked back. Eyes narrowed.
"...Marilla."
"Hmm?" she asked, wide-eyed and innocent.
He lifted her higher, one arm around her hips, the other braced across her back. Her whole body responded to the tension in his.
"You’re trouble," he murmured into her hair.
"And you love it," she whispered.
He didn’t deny it.
The bathroom, still warm with steam and dusk light filtering through the skylight, wrapped around them. Kade set her down gently. She didn’t step away.
Blue eyes gleamed with that dangerous sparkle he knew too well. Her posture loose, too relaxed. Too confident. She was up to something.
He squinted at her, nostrils flaring slightly.
His body stiffened.
That scent.
Masculine instinct rippled through him like a wire pulled taut. He turned the shower on. Steam hissed to life.
Then he turned.
She just smiled.
Sweet. Serene. As if butter wouldn’t melt.
She backed up a step.
"Kade..." she cooed, lashes fluttering. "Surely you wouldn’t hurt a delicate little thing like me?"
Her paws found the tiled wall behind her. She let out a small, breathy gasp—part innocent maiden, part not-so-innocent vixen.
Kade’s arms braced on either side of her head.
Heat rolled off his body in waves. Stallion musk and sweat. His eyes locked on hers—hot, narrow, utterly focused.
Her ears flicked upright, then pressed flat against her skull.
Her muzzle parted.
"Oh... no..."
"Marilla," he said, voice low, dangerous, and devastating.
She squeaked.
"I wasn’t doing anything—"
He inhaled again, slow and knowing. The tiniest smirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
She didn’t fool him for a second.
Kade leaned in, chest brushing hers.
"You’re trying to rile me up."
Her pulse kicked. Her breath came fast.
"Little roo," he murmured, lips grazing her throat, "don’t start games you can’t finish."
His mouth trailed higher, warm nibbles and soft licks brushing her throat and jawline until he reached her ear.
"You," he growled, breath hot. "Brought this upon yourself."
Her knees nearly gave. Her vision blurred at the edges.
Then—
With no warning, he caught her forearms.
Marilla let out a squeal—a real one, half passion, half panic—before he spun her and shoved her beneath the cold spray of the shower, clothes and all.
The squeal turned into a yelp.
Kade just stood there. Smug.
Wet, dripping, stunned, and breathless, Marilla slapped both paws to the shower wall and blinked through the icy deluge.
"You," she gasped, shivering and staring at him. "You absolute bastard."
He leaned in, eyes sparkling. "Told you not to melt so fast."
She growled. A dripping, furious kangaroo growl.
"I will ruin you."
Kade’s smile was slow and cocky. "Get in line."
She lunged.
And the shower had never seen such a war.
*
Chapter Three: Soft Hands, Warm Hearts
Marilla giggled softly as the old mare turned her grey head and nudged her shoulder—a quiet, grateful nuzzle that only came from a patient who trusted you completely. The gesture warmed her all the way through.
Her paws moved in practiced circles along the mare’s shoulder blade, slow and gentle, carefully working through a knot of stubborn tension. Beneath her touch, the tight muscle eased at last, releasing in a deep, rippling wave that rolled through the old mare’s flank.
"There you go, girl," Marilla murmured, voice low and soothing. "That feel better?"
The mare’s ears flicked forward immediately. Her whole stance shifted—one hind hoof cocked, hip loose, eyes half-lidded in quiet bliss.
Marilla smiled, heart warmed by the honest response. "Good girl. You’re such a sweetheart. I love working with you. You’re patient, you’re tolerant, and even when I hit a sore spot, you just twitch instead of trying to bite my tail off."
With a soft chuckle, she slipped a few treats from the pouch around her waist and held them out flat-palm. The mare lipped them up, warm breath and whiskers tickling her fur.
"There we go," she said, giving her a final rub between the ears. "That’s my girl."
She stepped back and wiped her paws on a towel, then filled out the service receipt with her usual neat, looping script. "I’d like to see her again in two weeks," she said, handing it over with a professional smile. "Just to follow up and make sure she’s staying loose through the shoulder."
The grateful owner nodded and walked her back to the car, thanking her again before Marilla slipped into the driver’s seat and closed the door.
She exhaled, the polite workday smile melting into something softer. Genuine. Satisfied.
"Another happy customer," she murmured, tail thumping lightly once against the seat. "And one very relaxed old mare."
She checked the dashboard clock and perked up. "Time to meet Kade at the shops. I wonder what he’s thinking for dinner..."
Her claws tapped a thoughtful rhythm on the steering wheel as she shifted in her seat—and wriggled, just a little. A slow warmth curled through her belly before she could stop it, the kind that made her ears heat and her paws tighten slightly on the wheel.
I know what I’d like for dinner...
She cleared her throat, rolled her shoulders, and very purposefully did not think about that stallion scent she loved far too much for her own good.
*
Chapter Four: The Zucchini Incident
Even the madness of late-afternoon traffic couldn’t dent Marilla’s sunshine mood. She hummed all the way back into town, tapping a lazy rhythm on the steering wheel with her claws, tail curled beside her and swaying with each beat of whatever tune her mind replayed.
It had been a long day of work, but her spirits never really dipped—not when she knew she’d be seeing Kade soon. That thought alone left a warmth in her chest, a little spark she carried until the moment she saw him again.
She eased into the parking lot, snagged a spot near the front, and shut the engine off with a content little sigh. Her shoulders uncoiled from the workday as she stepped out—only for her phone to chime, catching her breath halfway in her throat.
She glanced down, thumb brushing the screen.
The exhale that followed was... dramatic, even for her.
“Oh gods… he’s already inside,” she murmured, voice a soft mix of fondness and fluster as heat climbed her cheeks.
Her tail gave a twitch against the side of the SUV—small, involuntary, nerves and anticipation tangled together. Of course he was already inside. That was such a Kade thing. Punctual. Steady. Focused. The calm to her sunburst chaos.
Meanwhile, she stood in the parking lot, trying not to combust—because the moment she’d left her last stable call, her thoughts had drifted right back to him. To his scent. His eyes. The promise of an evening together.
Marilla smoothed her shirt like it might tame the flutter in her chest, then ran a paw through her hair in a practiced sweep. She tried—gods help her, she tried—to summon her sweet, innocent maiden-roo composure.
The one that could convince anyone she was proper, polite, and utterly tame.
It didn’t fool her for a heartbeat.
I know exactly what I want for dinner… and it won’t be in the produce aisle, she thought, warmth prickling all the way to the tips of her ears.
She took a breath, squared her shoulders, and headed for the store, her stride carrying just the tiniest sway of anticipation.
“All right, Marilla,” she whispered. “Be good. At least until he looks at you...”
She was not going to be good. Oh no, not even remotely. And her smile spread across her muzzle, eyes sparkling with mischief because she knew it.
The automatic doors parted with a soft whoosh, cool air washing over her fur. She adjusted her bag and scanned the aisles.
Marilla found him in about two seconds flat.
Kade stood near the bargain shelf, tall and broad-shouldered, holding two jars of pasta sauce like they were sacred relics. His shirt clung to his back and shoulders, the faint sheen of sweat from his workday catching the fluorescent light just enough to make her breath catch.
She approached with what she hoped was composure—her “public face,” as she liked to call it. Sweet. Outgoing. Polite. Respectful.
Her tail, however, flicked every few steps.
Traitor, she thought.
Kade didn’t turn, but one ear angled. Then he inhaled—slow, deliberate, drawing in her scent like it was the only one in the whole store.
She nearly melted, watching the instinctive tightening of his back muscles, the subtle lift of his head, the unconscious flex that said this doe is mine.
When he turned and saw her, that quiet smirk formed instantly. The one that always unraveled her.
“Hello, trouble.”
Her ears dipped, a soft smile curling onto her lips before she could stop it. “Hi...”
He slid one jar into the basket without breaking eye contact. “Do try to behave.”
Marilla blinked up at him with her best wide-eyed innocence. “I always behave.”
His beautiful eyebrow rose—almost level with the tip of his pricked-forward ears.
She flicked her own ears, giving him her sweetest expression. A full Me? Misbehave? I would never.
His gaze narrowed slightly. The stallion stare. But then he just sighed in exasperation and shook his head, expression softening. His lips barely twitched, but his eyes said everything: I adore you. Gods help me, I really do.
They walked together through the store, side by side. Her arm brushed his now and then—each touch just a little less accidental than the last.
Kade didn’t comment. But the tension in his shoulders said everything. He noticed. Oh, he noticed.
They reached the zucchinis.
Marilla’s ears perked. Her eyes gleamed.
Kade froze.
He turned slowly, voice already edging into familiar warning. “Marilla…”
Too late.
She picked one up with the reverence of a priestess holding an artifact. “Kade…” she breathed, saccharine sweet.
His eyes narrowed. Dangerously. “Put that down.”
She tilted her head. “But it looks so fresh...”
“Marilla.”
“And firm.”
“Marilla.” That voice dropped a full octave.
She opened her mouth, smile already forming. “And I was just thinking—”
Her scent hit him like a hoof to the nostrils. Sudden. Potent. Deliberate.
“Put. It. Down.”
She set it back slowly. Delicately. “Aww... you’re no fun... I was just...”
His stallion stare cut through her teasing like a scalpel. She smirked and poked her tongue out anyway.
A human clerk passed by, blissfully unaware of the crackling tension between roo and stallion—or the scent that was currently driving said stallion to the brink of madness.
Kade rubbed a paw over his muzzle, groaning softly. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Marilla slid up beside him, curling her paw into the crook of his arm.
“Not until after dinner,” she murmured, voice warm enough to melt steel.
He inhaled again—deep.
Trouble. Beautiful, wonderful trouble, she thought, then turned on her heel and walked off, tail swaying, leaving her flustered stallion in her wake.
*
Thickshakes and Karma:
It wasn’t a dinner date. It wasn’t even a proper meal. But it was a moment. In Marilla's mind, she had earned it—if only for the look on Kade’s face when she sauntered out of the grocery store like she hadn’t just tried to commit several health code violations with a zucchini.
The café was quiet, tucked on the corner of the block. They sat outside under a striped awning, spring air warm enough for comfort but cool enough for her fur to prickle.
Kade, ever the stoic one, had ordered a black coffee. No sugar. No cream. Just brooding in a cup.
Marilla, on the other paw, had gone for the biggest triple caramel thickshake they offered—extra cream, extra drizzle, and topped with a winking cherry that she may or may not have tongued deliberately while staring directly at him.
She sipped slowly at first. Let her lips slide around the straw, the tip of her tongue curling just-so. Eyes half-lidded. Muzzle tilted. A sultry kangaroo personified.
Kade lifted an eyebrow. Curious. Amused.
For her? That was her cue.
In one bold suck, the entire thickshake disappeared. Full to empty in four seconds flat.
He stared, ears twitching. “How…?”
Marilla licked her lips slowly, then smirked. “Lots of… practice.”
It was perfect. She was radiant. Victorious.
Until it hit.
Her eyes went wide. Her muzzle scrunched. Then came the squeal—loud, sharp, and entirely unladylike as she clutched at her skull, paws flattening over her temples.
“Oh—gods—BRAIN FREEZE!” she groaned, tail twitching spasmodically as she bent over the table, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.
Kade just sat back, arms folding across his chest, the warm timbre of a nicker-laced laugh bubbling up from deep in his chest.
“I warned you,” he said between chuckles.
“No, you did not!” she hissed through gritted teeth, face buried in the crook of her elbow, trying to recover her dignity.
“Reckless,” he murmured, sipping his coffee. “Incorrigible. Tease.”
She peeked up at him, ears drooping, still sniffling. “...Still worth it.”
*
Chapter Five: Simmer
Kade busied himself in the kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron and a look of focused determination. Steam rose in gentle curls from the large pot on the stove, the scent of simmering vegetables, stock, and herbs weaving through the air like a promise. He leaned in, tasting the stew, brow furrowed as he adjusted the seasoning. A pinch more thyme. Just a touch more salt. Almost—
He froze.
The softest pressure at his hips.
Leathery fingers slid around his waist, slow and deliberate, and claws pressed lightly against his abdomen. A silky tongue traced a warm, wet line over his shoulder, and he felt the whisper of breath as it tickled across damp fur.
"It’s not ready," he muttered, jaw tight, lips trembling as the ladle clattered against the edge of the pot. His voice came out lower, rougher, already fighting the inevitable tide.
"I’m not hungry for that," Marilla breathed, voice soaked in syrup and sin.
Her paws drifted downward, teasing beneath the hem of his apron, palms tracing over muscle with the kind of reverence usually reserved for sacred texts. Kade twitched. His hands gripped the bench hard enough to whiten his knuckles, then one lifted, catching her forearm with a firm grasp.
He turned just enough to give her that look. The one that could melt candles at ten paces. The one that said don’t push me unless you’re ready to deal with the consequences.
Of course, she pushed anyway.
"You keep that up, and I’ll bend you over this counter," he growled.
Not a threat. Not idle. A promise with teeth.
Her breath caught in her throat before it slipped out again, light and giddy.
"Oh…" she giggled, faux-innocent, pupils dilated. "You promise?"
His nostrils flared. Gods, her scent—intoxicating, impossible to ignore. She pressed closer, breasts against his back, lips teasing the nape of his neck as her paw dipped lower, caressing, sliding, stroking where she had no business being.
The apron twitched.
Kade exhaled through his nose, sharp and warning.
"Marilla," he rumbled, voice like thunder behind distant mountains.
"Hm?" she answered sweetly, paw not stopping for a second.
"You are going to burn dinner."
"I can make it up to you…" she purred, mouth brushing just below his ear, her tongue flicking like a spark to dry kindling.
"You’ll make it up to the kitchen table if you’re not careful."
She giggled again, quiet and dangerous. "Still standing from last time, isn’t it?"
He spun on her then, one paw catching her wrist, the other snaking around her waist as he pinned her gently but firmly against the edge of the counter. His body pressed to hers, eyes locked with hers. The heat between them was molten.
She blinked up at him, all wide-eyed roo innocence, muzzle twitching with mischief. "Should I be scared?"
"You should behave," he growled, muzzle dipping close.
"But that wouldn’t be as fun, would it?" she whispered back, the barest brush of her lips against his.
*
Dinner little more than a memory now, warmth settled low in their bellies. Silence hung thick but comfortable, broken only by the occasional creak of the table or the sigh that slipped from his lips.
Marilla straddled his hips with quiet reverence, knees braced on either side of his powerful thighs, her paws resting on his lower back. She could feel the heat of him through her own fur, feel the weight of the moment pressing softly against her spine like a rising tide.
She leaned forward and exhaled slowly, thumbs beginning their slow, deliberate circles just above the swell of his haunches. Her touch was firm, unhurried, gliding up the slopes of his back in smooth waves, then tracing back down, each pass loosening something deeper. Kade murmured, low and drowsy, his muzzle slack against the padded cradle.
"Gods, Mari," he breathed, the words fogging in the warm hush between them. "You're going to ruin me."
She smirked, dipping low to kiss the hollow between his shoulder blades. "Good. I've got a few kinks to work out... and maybe a few to put back in."
He snorted—a soft, helpless sound—half-laugh, half-sigh, muffled into the cradle. But he didn’t move. He trusted her. Fully.
Her paws wandered further, mapping him like sacred scripture. Each knot unwound beneath her fingers like ribbon. His back, his shoulders, the long, strong length of his spine—every inch was a conversation she answered with reverent touch. When she skimmed lower, to the gentle dip above his tail, she lingered. Let her thumbs press in.
She felt it when his breath caught. Not overt. Not demanding. Just a subtle shift—his tail twitching under her thighs, a warm tension pulsing low and slow. The kind that said wait.
"Roll over for me, love," she whispered.
Kade shifted beneath her, muscles rippling as he turned. She rose slightly, let him move, then settled back down—this time, straddling his hips fully. Her weight met his in a grounded, natural rhythm, her paws planted on his broad chest.
His eyes opened—hazy, hooded, golden—and caught hers. Something unspoken passed between them. Invitation. Worship. Surrender.
She dipped her muzzle, brushed her nose against his cheek, and began again.
Her paws roamed—over his chest, across his ribs, down his sides, all slow, circular devotion. Not a rush to arousal. A rediscovery. She traced the shape of his strength like she was memorizing it. Because she was. Her fingers curled into his fur and felt the heartbeat beneath.
Kade’s hooves shifted. His breath deepened. His hands rose to her hips but didn’t grasp—just held. Grounded. She leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed for a beat, lips parting with a quiet breath.
And then she shifted forward—just a little.
Her breath hitched.
Heat. Pressure. Something unmistakable stirred beneath her, firm and rising, and very much aware of her playful wandering. She froze for a beat, eyes widening as her ears twitched back with a startled flick.
“Oh… oh my,” she whispered, voice soft with something between reverence and surprise.
Kade cracked one eye open, a lazy smirk tugging at his muzzle. “Told you not to tease me, didn’t I?”
His voice had dropped a note—low and wicked, but warm. She stared down at him, momentarily stunned.
“You’re about to get what you deserve… round one, my insolent little kangaroo doe.”
Her eyes narrowed, her tail flicking once behind her in mock defiance. “Is that so?” she murmured, her muzzle dipping closer. “And here I thought I was the one giving the massage…”
He chuckled, low and breathy, his hands sliding to rest just above her thighs. “Keep tempting me, Mari,” he rumbled, “and I might stop holding back.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth—gentle, teasing—before bracing her paws against his forearms and gently pinning them beside his head.
“Let me,” she whispered, and he nodded, utterly still.
She moved with sacred intention. No frenzy, no rush. Her body settled over his in a slow, reverent rhythm, her breath hitching as he filled her—heart first, body second. The world narrowed to the warmth between them, the steady rise and fall of lungs, the quiet gasps and whispered names.
Kade's ears fell back, eyes glazed as he arched up into her, but still let her lead. Every movement she made was deliberate—deep, slow, rooted in something more than lust. It was a promise in motion. A devotion made flesh.
She kissed his throat, whispered his name. He answered in touch, in shivers, in the soft rasp of her name on his tongue.
It built like a tide. Not a crash, but a surge—rising with every breath, every shift, every beat of two hearts hammering in sync. She cupped his face as it crested, her own eyes wet with the intensity of it, his hands curled tight, tail twitching beneath her.
When it broke, it wasn’t a scream. It wasn’t a shout. It was stillness. A stunned, breathless stillness as their bodies shook against each other.
She collapsed into his arms, her muzzle finding the crook of his neck. Kade wrapped himself around her and held on like she was everything. Because she was.
"You okay?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
His arms tightened. "You gave me everything."
She smiled into his fur. "Then it’s yours. All of it."
And they stayed like that. Entwined. Wordless. Sacred.
The candlelight danced on the walls, unnoticed. The world could wait. They had each other—and they weren't letting go.
She wasn’t just fire and laughter and grace. She was everything.
And gods help him, she had him, completely.
*
Epilogue – Personal Day
The air was thick with the scent of sweat and lavender oil, clinging to the warm stillness of the bedroom like a silken fog. The candlelight had guttered low, shadows soft and drowsy on the walls.
Marilla lay sprawled atop Kade like a damp, bliss-drunk towel, her fur clinging in places where heat had mingled and lingered. Her cheek rested against his chest, rising and falling with the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. One leg hung off the side of his thigh, the other hooked lazily around his knee. She hadn’t moved in minutes. Maybe hours.
He was still beneath her—his arms loosely cradling her form, fingers tracing idle circles into her lower back. Slow, tender strokes. Not seeking. Not teasing. Just present. Present and entirely content.
She made a sound—a sleepy groan, somewhere between a murmur and a breathless grunt—and shifted just enough to breathe against his throat.
Kade tilted his head and kissed between her ears, a gentle press of lips to fur, then murmured low against her scalp, “You alive under there?”
“Mmmph,” she replied into his chest, voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction.
“That’s a yes?”
“I think so...” A long exhale. Her fingers flexed once against his ribs, then went slack again. “Gods, I can't feel my thighs... or my ears... or my soul.”
Kade chuckled, the deep rumble of it shaking beneath her. “I did warn you.”
She let out another breath, one part laugh, two parts whimper, and nuzzled deeper against him. Then, after a beat of silence, her voice came in a husky, barely-there whisper.
“…Call my clients.”
He blinked. “Hmm?”
“I need to take a personal day.”
Kade grinned into her fur. “I’ll write a formal apology to your schedule.”
Her tail twitched, brushing across his shin. “Good. Make it poetic.”
He kissed her again—slow, reverent. “Already started composing the stanza.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
Their room hummed with stillness. No need to move. No need to speak.
Only breath. Only warmth. Only them.
With it, the soft, satisfied silence of a day well and truly claimed.
With a groan, Marilla tried to lift a paw—then gave up, letting it slump bonelessly onto his chest. A quiet tremor rippled through her, slow and full-bodied, from twitching ears to tired toes.
Kade’s deep rumble vibrated under her cheek. “What did you learn, little roo?”
She breathed out a sigh that might’ve been a laugh—if she’d had the energy.
“Absolutely…” she murmured, nuzzling lazily into his shoulder, “...nothing.”
His fingers traced slow circles along her spine. “Then my work’s not done.”
END