Using his own words against him? Oh, dear wife. His voice was cast low, his golden eyes smoldering. Winning, indeed...

Not that the words held any real meaning at this point; he was lost to the haze, lost to her so completely. He groaned into the kiss, his arm slipping out from beneath her head to pull her tighter against his body as he nuzzled into the hollow of her throat.

As much as I enjoy the sweetness of these damn berries, there’s something even fucking sweeter I’m craving, he whispered against the side of her neck. He began to trail gentle kisses and affectionate nips along her throat, her shoulder, her collarbone, moving down, down, down, following the plushness of her fur.

If not for the abuse her nipples had taken from their young, he might have spared them more energy, but he decided there were more efficient ways to send her soaring. Instead, he lathered tender licks along the sensitive skin of her stomach, catching the soft flesh between his teeth and tugging gently.

Her heat was so close now, vibrant and pulsing against his senses. Lower still he crept, lavishing intentional kisses to the inside of her thighs, closer and closer, but never quite where she wanted him most. His golden gaze flicked upward to meet her stunning eyes, his tongue lulling from his mouth with a shit-eating grin. He hung so tantalizingly close to her sex, yet remained just shy of true contact.

Beg, little sprite.

A single sentence. A sharp command. She would earn it.