Mirabelle moaned.
Her body reacted instinctively to the pressure of Silas's hardness.
The lynx female rubbed against him, and the panther had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from being overwhelmed by desire.
Above them, the branches swayed softly in the night breeze. Silver-blue moonlight filtered through the canopy and painted shifting patterns across the forest floor.
His mouth drifted close to her ear. She could feel his breath tickling the tiny hairs there.
"I was wrong. You aren't a good girl."
Mirabelle giggled.
Silas fit the image of a modern BDSM love interest so perfectly that she felt as though she were secretly living out someone's reader fantasy.
Though she had no idea whether that was simply his personality or if he actually had interests in that direction.
Maybe she should find out?
She arched her back, creating a small amount of distance between herself and the Beastman's burning chest.
