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Roman held, in his hands, a small, shiny key.

The key wasn't small, really. It was the regular size and shape of an ordinary house key. It was his hands that were large, dwarfing, as always, the most important things in his life. And while he stood on the stoop of the ordinary house that this ordinary key would grant him access to, he turned it about in his hands, wondering how it could be so perfectly boring, and still mean so very much.

Roman reached up with his left hand- nothing could make him relinquish the key in his right at this moment- and checked the orange braids held so close, so perfectly to his scalp. He checked his striped button-down shirt, making certain he was presentable without ever looking away from the key. Patted his pockets. Checked his fly. Knew from the several times he'd stared at himself before climbing into his car to make the drive over that his linen pants were immaculate.

Stop stalling, he thought, and go inside.

He wrapped his fist around the key, tawny fur drowning it, lifting his hand to knock. He stalled the instant before his fist struck the wood of her ordinary door. No. She'd made it clear he could come and go as he pleased. That was the entire point of the key, the entire point of the exercise. He shook his head, muzzle scrunching in a grimace. Get it together, he told himself in a snarl.Confidence. Pride. You're a lion, for fuck's sake.

He shook his head and smoothed his expression, rage at himself for a weak moment, jamming the key into the lock of her door. He pushed the door open aggressively and shut it behind him, loudly to let her know he was there. This was a smart move; he only took four steps into her living room, kicking off his shoes at the door with a practiced smoothness, before she left the hallway that led to the rest of the house dressed in nothing but a towel.

"Welcome home," she teased, her voice amused and a smile stretching over her black muzzle. Water beaded along her white fur, black stripes glittering in the low light from the kitchen. He stood in semi-darkness, watching her cross the white carpet on stately hooves. "I wasn't expecting you so early or I would've-" As soon as she was within his reach, he snatched her by her upper arms, dragging her the last foot to press a passionate kiss to her mouth. He couldn't help but growl a little as he licked the water from her lips; she tasted like springtime, new and full of promise. Her sound of surprise- then, of arousal- only made him growl louder, the scent of her shampoo filling his nose, clamoring for attention. He didn't taste her kiss for long before he pulled her back, his grip on her arms making it easy to position her, and he gazed into her large, liquid black eyes for the briefest moment.

"I want you," he whispered, lifting a massive paw to gently brush a long, leaking curl from her cheek. "I had no reason to wait." He could see by her expression the very instant she became aware of his massive dick pressing into her thigh, erect and greedy. From love-drunk to stunned, to excited all in the space of two seconds. Mm, that was his girl. Still, she rallied, her expression closing briefly, almost feline in her willfulness. Zebra or no, she had an immense amount of restraint when she wanted to.

"And who said I would want you," she answered as she took a step backward, her attempt to be coy making him smile. A smile that didn't quite reach his demanding, intent eyes.

"If you didn't want me," he said, kicking back to shut the door with a foot, "you wouldn't have given me your key." He held up the shining object in question before dropping it into his pocket, patting the exterior. The gentle flush that colored her otherwise flawless white cheeks gave her away. "You knew when you gave it to me that you were giving me permission to fuck you whenever I wanted," he continued, taking a single, menacing step forward to close the distance she'd opened by backing away. Forcing her to endure his presence in her personal space. "You may as well have told me, out loud, in your pretty voice, 'I want you whenever I can have you.' In fact," he continued, "before I leave, you're going to say those words. Out loud." She gasped in indignation before he smothered her with another kiss. That's right, he thought, amused, fight me. I love the games we play.

"You are so full of yourself," she accused, pushing him away, though the smile at the corner of her mouth told him volumes about her. "I just gave you that key in case I lost mine," she continued turning around in front of him, the bottom of her striped tail peeking out beneath the towel. She made her way into the hallway and he followed, one step behind, letting her feel him looming behind her.

"And because you want me," he continued, with an ego and arrogance he'd shown her constantly since he found her at the bar. She made a scoffing sound but didn't negate his words, and he felt the thrill he always did when she played coy. She was making her way down the hallway, the hair she'd wrapped in a towel on her head slipping out stand by strand. At the moment, it was no more than a lock of white, curling at the nape of her neck. How he longed to reach out and touch it... so he did, running the tips of his fingers, claws and all, against her nape. She jumped and whirled, turning to face him.

"Roman!" She yelled, the blush just a bit darker, her eyes wide, sparkling. With excitement. The grin curved along his lips, just the tips of his sharp teeth showing. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I wanted to touch you," he purred, the sound warm and furry around his words. He took a step toward her, pressing her back against the wall next to the open door to the still-steaming bathroom. "So I did," he added, his hands leaning against either side of her shoulders, trapping her. She tilted her head up towards him, an obvious invitation if ever he saw one, so he brought himself closer to her face, letting his breath beat against her mouth. "I might want to do more."

"Who said you could," she murmured, her voice soft, inviting. She moved forward as if to kiss him but he straightened, a wicked smirk her reward for giving in so quickly, for proving him right.

"I did," he answered, the satisfaction plain on his face. She pouted, obviously frustrated for how quickly she had yielded to him. That pout was downright gratifying; such a strong woman to be so easily teased. As she turned, huffing, towards her room, he swung his paw down with a gentle force, slapping the obvious curve of her ass hard enough to put an extra jump in her step. "You shouldn't be out here, wet like that," he added as she sprang forward. "You might catch your death." He followed her closely as before, laughing quietly at his joke, though his eyes never left the sway of those hips as she stormed into her room, opening the door, turning to shut it. He slipped his bare foot into the door, catching it with a paw.

"You can't be serious," she demanded, the black fur of a hand gripping the frame.

"I absolutely am," he answered, pushing the door open with enough force that she had no choice but to relinquish it, stumbling back. Her room was well appointed; king size bed, two night stands, dresser of a dark, matching mahogany. The light fixture had been covered so the light was soft and red, washing over the white parts of her striped fur, her white cheeks, almost hiding the blush. They had never gotten this far before; he had never seen her room. Something about it seemed innocent, certainly intimate- maybe the white sheets, maybe the way several of her large bras hung from a rack on the frame of the closet. Her sanctuary. "In fact, why don't you let me help you dry off?"

"Roman!" Her voice was a squeal of sound, nervous, somehow embarrassed. He laughed and scooped her up in his arms, the sudden motion knocking the towel from her head, spilling her damp hair over the forearm beneath her back, cradling her. He silenced her objection with another kiss, this time sweeping his tongue into her mouth, ignoring her display. At first, she gently placed her fists on his chest, but he knew he had her. She was quivering in his arms, warm and hungry, and her ideas about remaining stalwart meant nothing. He carried her, towel and all, to her bed, gently putting his precious bundle down, her dangerous hooves resting easily. Oh yes, he thought, dipping his muzzle to brush the hair from beneath her ear, to kiss along her neck. You make this so easy.

He placed a knee on the bed, feeling it sink beneath his weight, lashing out with his tongue to taste the water on her short, soft fur. The stripes along her neck gave him something to trace, an outline on her skin that spoke to him. He often sketched those lines on her neck with a drag of his claws, but now, he wanted to taste her.

He found the fingers of the hand she had wrapped in her towel, holding it shut tightly. He slowly, individually, released those fingers, forcing her to drop the towel around her. She admittedly didn't fight him much, giving in with the least pressure he presented as he lapped at her mouth, rasping his tongue against hers. She was so sweet, mewling beneath him, her towel slipping entirely to reveal her body to him, lithe and trim. Athletic. She did so love to run, and he could see himself chasing her for a very long time.

"You can't just barge in here," she started, hushed, as soon as he drew away to look over her exquisite frame, "and interrupt what I'm doing! You can't just barge in here and take me to-"

"Can't?" He asked archly, lifting an eyebrow. His voice was deeper, clear, and by no means hushed. She fell silent, staring up at him, all but begging him to force her into the mattress.

"Well, obviously you can," she started before he was kissing her again, drawing his teeth along the flesh of her face, the line of her jaw. She shuddered, her voice trailing off as she lost track of her thought. One of her hands made it's way up his arm, to his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt. He didn't stop to give her a chance to formulate words, his claws working up under her damp hair to scratch gently over her scalp. She all but moaned, weakened by his paw, his teeth.

"Pinna," he growled, and as always, the sound of her name in his mouth made her eyelashes flutter briefly. "Don't argue," he continued, the paw not currently in her hair brushing along her fur, dipping to her modest breast, squeezing almost tenderly. He brought his fingers inward, scratching, leaving little pricks against her skin. "You know as well as I do that this is what you want." She glanced up at him, honesty on her expression, and nodded.

"Damn me, but I do, Roman," she finally said, lacing her fingers behind his neck. He nodded himself, this time in satisfaction. Of course she did. And as a reward, he kissed her again, this time with the passion and greed he held back before, with a small growl of appreciation for the woman before him.

How long had they been playing these games? Had it been one month? Two? With him, it seemed a woman had him buried once between her thighs and immediately begged him to make his home there. But Pinna had been different. Proud. Strong. Like him. And it was that similarity, narcissistic as it seemed, that called to him more than anything. Other women threw themselves at him, begged him to stay, acted as if he were the best thing that ever happened to them- and of course, he was. But what he wanted more than he ever understood was someone who challenged him, who expected him to be amazing, and when he performed, thanked him and went about her life as if he hadn't changed everything with his slow, merciless smile and his towering cock.

Jezelou, Maria, Carolyn, Tunisia, Savannah. Tina, Evelyn, Jennifer, Haley, Eliza. He had more women than he could count, and relationships for every finger. But none of them were as interesting, as difficult, as rewarding as Pinna. Pinna, who never reached out to him, only beckoned him with her smile or her touch. Only made him comfortable when he was there, but never bothered him when he wasn't. She was the shining light in his life, and she would have hated to know it.

So painfully independent. Just like him.

And to hear her giving in so quickly, admitting that she wanted him, admitting with the very slow part of her thighs and the way her chest arched up against his shirt that she was his. Even if only for the moment. Even if only while he was here... But it went deeper than that, now. She had given him a key to her house. Given him an open invitation into her life, even going so far as to tell him to stop by 'whenever he wanted.' She may have looked away when she said it as he left her house Wednesday morning, but he knew what it meant. And so did she.

He had taken his time to let it sink in, and more importantly, so he didn't seem eager. Friday night. What was she doing in, if not waiting for him? He knew her so well. Knew the column of her throat, knew the sweep of her shoulders. Knew the scent of her breasts as he bowed his head to take one succulent black nipple into his mouth- knew, yes, even the way she would hiss as he gently dragged his sharp teeth along that sensitive bud. Knew the way she would shift her hips, just so, the way it spoke of the warmth between her thighs. She wanted him. And he wanted her more than he could stand.

He stood, pulling his shirt off over his head without bothering to unbutton it first, leaving him down to his undershirt and linen pants. When the fabric was out of his line of sight, he noticed she was sitting up on the square of her towel, looking at him with eyes glittering with something. Lust? Almost certainly. He could feel that same lust as it lay on his skin like static electricity. He dragged his undershirt away, the tawny fur of his chest unable to hide the outline of his musculature, a sight he knew would drive her crazy. And before he could even finish tossing the shirt to the floor she was on him, delicate fingers scratching gently through his golden fur as if she'd never felt him, as if she couldn't get enough. As her mouth found his left nipple he made a small, growling sound, irritated as he felt his dick began to grow, trapped in the confines of his boxer briefs. She pulled away from him, licking her shiny black lips with a certain level of amusement that she'd made him growl.

"I thought you wanted this," she cooed, teasing him again. No one could tease him like she could. He reached down to remove his bet but she slapped his hand- slapped his hand!- and took over, unclasping the buckle with a laugh in her eyes. "Let me take care of that," she continued, leaving the ends of his belt hanging from his waist, fingers unbuttoning his fly with only a few fumbles. She no doubt felt the hard length of him pressing against the fabric- no doubt felt how hard he was already, but she didn't react, moving so slowly he toyed with the thought of pushing her away and finishing the job himself. "I love to see you so eager," she finally continued when his pants fell to his feet. He kicked them away with irritation.

"You'll see something alright," he ground out between sharp teeth, finally batting her hands aside and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, dropping it without a thought. When his legs were free of that sea of fabric, he gripped her shoulders in his, pouring forward with a surge that made her gasp, his lips locked on hers in another passionate kiss. He loved when she was teasing, but right now he had no patience for such things. Right now he had come to her house, when he felt like it, and now he felt like taking her. She giggled as he pushed her down, then moaned quietly into the space between them, filling it with beautiful sound. The curve of her tiny stomach, the short, black fur between her legs, the delicious smell that wafted up to his exceptionally sensitive nostrils... So warm, so soft, so comfortable on her mattress, on her sheets. This room smelled of her, of the women he wanted, needed. He slipped along her neck again as her hands scratched into the fur of his back. Even that gesture was sweet to him, so perfectly timed that he couldn't help himself, hard cock bouncing against her thigh.

"Roman," she murmured, his name in her breathy voice as enticing as a prayer. She wrapped one of her legs around his hip, tilting her head back into the mattress, her hair fanning out around her in streaks of black and white. He wrapped a paw around her calf to hike her into a better position and didn't stop to consider, kneeling up to get a grip on his dick, slipping the tip of it up and down, teasing, along her sopping slit. She murmured sounds reminiscent of words, with no actual connotation, tossing her head in a gesture not unlike a prancing horse. God, did she know what she did to him?

He could easily hurry their joining. He could force his massive dick deep inside of her, bury himself, lose himself in her body without concern for her, or how she felt. And who dated a lion without some masochism, really? His barbs may have been stunted by evolution but they were still there, a tiny scratch in each one. Wouldn't he truly be giving her what she wanted by forcing himself deep inside on the first thrust, by pounding her slender body into the mattress beneath her? By all accounts it was obvious that was what she wanted, arching up to press her tits against the fur of his chest, scratching his back greedily, needily. He growled again, letting her feel the vibration of the rumble in his chest, and she gasped as she did when he ran his tongue against the hood of her clit, as if this alone were heaven itself. The water she had retained against her fur made the room between them slick and heady with the scent of her and the clinging humidity; he welcomed it.

Each second that passed was another filled with her heady moaning, with the occasionally fumbling slip of the head of his aching member along her fragrant entrance. He found her clit and rubbed the tip of his cock against it in circles, each touch making the leg she'd wrapped around his hip quiver and dance in anticipation. He sank his teeth carefully into the skin of her neck as he finally gave in to her encouragement and pushed down, finding the tight ring of her entrance, and pressed his head in, slowly, achingly.

"Roman," she murmured again, her voice thick with desire. He held still, just inside her entrance, that tight ring of muscle squeezing down on him, fluttering around him. He waited, teasing them both ever more, watching her. After a few moments of panting, her eyes slowly opened, gazing up at him, and the moment she locked her eyes with his amber ones he pushed his hips forward, jamming himself about halfway into the inferno between her thighs. He loved the way her eyes opened just a bit in surprise, the way they glistened as she was caught up in the sensation, the way her nails fully scratched against his spine, all of it a reaction to him, to what he did, to the pleasure he made her feel. His mouth went dry as he grimaced; that first push inside was always so unbelievably good. It was almost like she was fighting him, she was so tight, so hot. About halfway in and he pulled back, rolling his hips, licking his lips... But this would never do. This angle wasn't what he wanted, wasn't how he wanted to start. He slipped back, away from her, listened to her make a small sound of disappointment as his dick left the crushing grip of her body.

"Up," he growled, wrapping his hands around her waist, pulling her toward him. She yelped in surprise as he brought her hips onto his thighs, planting one of his hands next to her head, using the other to angle himself down. He wanted to dwarf her, to feel how small she was beneath him, to smother her and keep her to himself. Her legs reflexively began to wrap around his waist- and that was acceptable, for now. He groaned aloud as he pushed back into her, every long, thick inch of him enveloped in her, bathed in her juices again- he almost didn't hear her gasp as he didn't wait this time, hips shifting, cock slamming forward and down. Sheathed entirely, he could feel the brush of the bottom of her sweet pussy, and he had to lift his head to keep from snarling. Damn, was all he could think, taking a moment to adjust, to keep from losing it already. "So fucking hot," he growled quietly, hearing her sound of agreement as she stared up at his chest, at the line of his throat, admiring the man who dwarfed her, filled her, stretched her body. Almost enough to hurt, but not quite; he, like no one else, made her feel complete.

"God, Roman," she whispered, her voice low. "Give me a moment..." Her breathless voice was more than enough to bring his head down, to look down at her from where he towered above. Each thrust within was a gentle rubbing, those nubs studding his shaft all but crossing her eyes. A moment after her plea and he was grinning that cocky grin.

"I'll give you more than a moment," he answered, shifting his hips back and forward once, hilting himself in her again. She moaned, her eyes slamming shut, and with that he didn't stop, setting a slow, methodical pace, intent. She had certainly earned his full attention, and he gave it to her; the hand that didn't hold him up gripping her hair, tugging gently. She shuddered beneath him, around him- he knew all her weaknesses and set to exploiting them, to make her feel as good as he did. From her hair, he scratched down her neck, sweat springing up under his braids, over his chest. Leaving warm lines in her black-and-white striped fur, leaving his marks gently on her flesh, listening to her moan for it. Such a slut for punishment, and he'd only just begun.

His hand didn't stop at her neck, didn't stop at her collar. He brought his paw down with more force once he'd crossed that threshold- no need to get questions at work- and began leaving runnels and lines through her fur. She writhed beneath him, away from his paw, into it, away from the relentless smack of his pelvis on her, and into it as well; her body was singing before he'd reached her breast, before he squeezed, leaving pinpricks all along her tit. He dropped his head down, sinking his teeth into her other breast, spinning his paw around the other, feeling her cunt ripple around him as if trying to milk him. So hard to ignore such a hungry, wanting woman, but he wouldn't be satisfied with just that, just the way she crooned her need, her lust for his affectionate pain. His tongue grated over her nipple even as his teeth bit down, yielding satisfyingly to him, stars of light blooming behind her eyes.

Through it all, he continued to push himself into her, continued to slide deep within her, each thrust spreading from his scalp and down his spine. Her fingers never stopped moving; now they were across his chest, now they were scratching down his neck, almost with enough force to give him a matching set of scratches. He growled encouragement, his tail thrashing behind him, his balls jumping with each deep dive. He took it slow at first, but slow was not in his nature, and his speed built to a more merciless pound, every slap of his balls against her body another ripple deep inside. She had such unbelievable control on that pussy, and he loved every second of it.

"So fucking talented," he groaned, the reverberation of a threatening roar in his voice. "You deserve... nothing less," he continued, interrupting himself with the toe-curling pleasure of a deep dive into her slick cunt. "Nothing less than me," he murmured, raising his head and clenching his teeth into the soft flesh of one her beautiful ears. The cry of mixed pleasure and pain itself made his calves flex; heat and passion stretching between them, growing.

"Then give it to me," she crooned, then gasped as he slammed particularly hard into her cervix, her thighs around his midsection clenching in reaction. Whether it was an instinct to force him out of her, or pull him closer, it didn't matter to him. He was going to fill this zebra with as much as she could take. His smooth thrusts became quicker, jarring, pounding deep inside of her, the head of his dick digging into her, spearing her. Her cries were wordless, almost as if she were begging without articulation, the wet sheen of saliva shining on her mouth. He lapped it away, not quite a kiss, relentless in his pursuit of her.

Blood pounded in her ears, her heartbeat pounding in her chest as she arched her back to feel more of his tawny fur against hers. Her hands were everywhere- on his face, against his neck, scratching down his sides. It was too much, so good, he was always so amazing- it was no wonder she was yelling, no surprise she had no words. She tried desperately to call to him, to tell him, to beg him to give her more, and faster, and harder, but she couldn't speak. Every earth-shattering drive into her body was another light flashing behind her eyelids, another curling grasp of delicious sensation through her skin. When he brought his paw down in a slap of her breast, she thought for certain she would die- the pulse of passion almost brought her to her peak by itself. The loud schluck of her juices as he forced her to open for him filled the room around them with electric sound; she canted her hips up to meet him and after once, twice- she shrieked her pleasure, her mouth falling open as she came, her juices rolling down his dick, puddling between them.

The scent of it, the feel of it made him snarl. She writhed, undulated, squirted beneath him and he gritted his teeth together. He was so close, he could feel it, but this wouldn't be enough. He wanted more. He gave her a few moments of suspended bliss, crashing against her with all the force in his body, before he pulled out her entirely, cock jumping threateningly. He rumbled in effort, clenching his jaw, forcing himself to cool off while his paws gripped her hips again, this time with less consideration, digging into her flesh. She loosed a questioning sound, clearly trying to gain her breath as he smoothly flipped her over, slapped the curve of her ass and made her jump. The jump inched her ass up a bit, revealing the glistening heat of her entrance, and he growled again.

"Up," he said through clenched teeth, and her head stopped spinning for just long enough for her to understand what was happening. She climbed onto her hands and knees, jumping her tail to the side, giving him a full view of her. He flexed his jaw, taking several deep breaths before guiding himself to her entrance and thrusting back into that welcoming warmth. She cried out, head thrown back, and he used that moment to lurch forward and snatch her damp hair in his paw, pulling her back into a perfect arch. Each thrust was deep, devastating, and it didn't take her long to ripple around him again, to coat him in fresh femcum, to suck at his dick as if she needed him to survive. The brief change up gave him fresh stamina; he didn't bother working her up, instead slamming deep and hard in a merciless rhythm immediately.

"Roman!" She all but screamed, her voice dying to a long croon that bounced with each slam of his hips. "Please!" She added after several long minutes, every second a new draw against his dick. And with the sound of her begging, it was so much harder to hold out; he snarled, leaning over her small body, sinking his teeth into her neck, biting down and growling as he rutted her hard and fast, feeling how much she loved every second beneath him. The paw that had been holding her hair released- his teeth could keep her in place- fist down on the mattress to help keep his weight off of her back. The other paw wrapped over her hip, trailing down to rub her clit in circles, making her screech in pleasure. The puddle growing between them was all the accolades he could have ever needed, her juice against his knees. Even after all this time, she was still so tight around him, as if she were trying to crush his cock inside of her, and the pressure and the inferno made him speed.

"Pinna," he growled around her neck, a low warning, and she gasped, knowing that sound.

"Roman," she called, thrusting back to meet his every push forward, pistoning her hips even as he did. "Roman, please," she murmured, pleading, her voice high, sweet, the sound he loved to hear almost as much as he loved the feel of her vibrating beneath his teeth. His fingers were coated, the loud sound of her juices sluicing against his fingers a tribute to the way he played her body. Her satisfaction only made his greater, deeper, and with a muffled roar he came, pounding into her through the crash along his spine, in his balls, climbing up against his body. She gasped his name, her fingers twisting into the sheets, each pulse of his shaft inside of her another wave of bliss.

It took him several sharp, deep jerks of his body before he was satisfied, curled over her body, a line of saliva dripping from his teeth. Both of them shook, twitched against each other, orgasm lingering, connection to each other sharp, almost painful in it's sweetness. As Roman's eyes began to clear, he found himself lapping at small points of crimson welling where his teeth had bitten just a bit too deeply, the copper flavor of her on his rough tongue like an after dinner mint- it seemed the perfect complement to the strong smell of their sex. He listened carefully to the sounds she made; her gasping cries, a slow 'mmmn' of delight, and just before she collapsed he raised himself off of her completely, rolling onto his back next to her on the mattress.

"Roman," she said on an exhalation, almost laughing. He adored the way she seemed delighted, after. Every time. He knew he had done well when she couldn't contain her joy. And that's precisely what it was- it became more and more obvious as she rolled against him, ignoring he heat and sweat that drenched his fur, scratching through it over his chest, wrapping a slender leg over his knee. "God," she groaned after a long moment, her other hand raising to take stock of the scratches all over her, a tribute of his claws.

"I already knew I was your god," he answered, a pleased purr rumbling beneath her scratches. "I'm just glad you've finally accepted it." She laughed and gently batted a fist against the muscles of his chest, the chiming sound of her amusement only making him happier. He wrapped an arm around her, casting a glance over her injuries. None of them were too great; she would be fine.

"Such an arrogant prick." She didn't stop bathing his muscles in affection, however, and he squeezed her against him, kissing her forehead. "I should really stop rewarding you for such bad behavior."

"It's my behavior you enjoy so much." And he knew he was right. How many people threw away everything they had to beg for her kindness? How many men had trailed after her the way they trailed after him? It was one of the many things that made her so like him. Her small, affirmative sound told him he was right, and he filed it away. No need to bring that up now. Enough to know that he was the one with her key. "So how much longer til you ask me to move in?" Her hand stilled over his fur, no longer moving, and she tensed as if uncomfortable. He brushed his lips, his teeth gently over her forehead, silent while she thought.

"Well," she began tentatively, and he began to hear alarm bells in his mind. She was seriously considering it.

"It was a joke," he said, tickling her side with the rasp of his claws, feather-light over her skin. She giggled, wriggling against him. "I wasn't serious." She nodded and sighed, though whether relief or disappointment he couldn't tell, and he wondered what that boded for him. He was going to have to give Pinna some consideration, think this one through. Did he want this to be serious? He thought back over the past month, maybe two. Wasn't it serious already? He hardly fucked anyone else. That's pretty serious already. And she was independent. Maybe she wouldn't give him the same troubles the other girls did...

"Good," she answered after a moment, her tone definitely relieved. "I didn't want to have to have that conversation again." And somehow, in that moment, he realized why they would never work. Why they could never make the change from what they were now. It was one thing to tease her, but while he wanted someone who would challenge him, he didn't want to have to actively fight to overcome a person's need for constant independence. There would be no 'living together' for her with him or anyone else; she'd warned him of that time and again, without ever saying it exactly. She wasn't afraid of commitment, she openly despised it.

As she snuggled back against him, bathing in his presence, he kissed her forehead, her brow, her eyelids. And in a way, he was saying goodbye. Not to her- she screwed too good not to visit- but to the idea that this was the one he'd finally stick with. Oh well. Plenty of other prey in the jungle.

In that moment, he relaxed entirely. He always did feel better when things were certain. And he certainly enjoyed the hunt. He was a beast with a voracious appetite. A smile crept across his lips as he became more aware of her against him; of her breasts pressed into his side, of her smooth thigh draped over his leg. Of her breathing, sweet and light, and her stomach, just above his hip. His tip of his tail began to curl mischievously where it lay at the edge of her bed, the wetness of the mattress soaking the fur of his ass.

Roman's arms provided a safe circle for her, in a way she had never felt before. She rubbed her muzzle against his chest, pleasantly sore, and wondered exactly how much longer she would last before she asked him to move in. After all, she had never been so happy as she had with him. And wasn't that just insane? She couldn't believe her good fortune, finding someone like him. To know he was thinking about their future, too, made her heart sing. Hopefully soon, she wouldn't have to hope he felt like swinging by... She finally saw herself in a relationship. She finally found someone she could trust.

They lay together in companionable silence, and neither knew it was for the last time.