Another gruff, sultry chuckle escaped him. Perhaps. Would my little sprite be so kind as to demonstrate?

The teasing was fun and arousing all at once, fueling a need to lay claim to what was his. He hungered to be one with her, to sink teeth into scruff and hear her delicious sounds echo through the room. Patience, he tried to remind himself as he felt his length extend, pressing firm against his stomach.

Does it now? The words were more breath than sound. Fuck, she was incredible. His tongue flicked over black lips before a crooked grin took its place. He wondered for a moment if more alcohol was truly necessary; it hadn’t left him buzzed, but there was a growing warmth in his chest and a soft fuzziness in his head. Whether that was the drink or the smoke was debatable.

His thoughts were disrupted as she rolled onto her back, head resting on his paws, those glinting summer-sunrise eyes glancing up at him through beautiful lashes. The scent of her arousal became all the more potent with her movements, and he could not stop himself from breathing it in greedily.

Perhaps patience wasn't working as well as he’d hoped. What would one more mouthful of berries hurt? It might loosen them up, him more than her. An underlying fear of hurting her remained, but she was so strong. So capable. Surprisingly durable. That thought made him shiver with appreciation even as it ached with sorrow. Sarge was determined to ensure the proof of her strength was attached to something worthwhile: the intensity of their lovemaking.

One more mouthful, one more careful kiss. This one left him near breathless as he gazed down at her, eyes half-lidded.