Rafayel knew he was in trouble the moment Nana walked into the studio wearing *that* dress.
It was innocent enough—a short, flowing sundress that hit mid-thigh, perfect for the warm weather. But to Rafayel, three days into his mating cycle with his instincts already screaming at him, it might as well have been a declaration of war.
His purple ears flattened against his lavender hair as he gripped his paintbrush tighter, trying to focus on the canvas in front of him. He could do this. He was an artist. He had discipline. Control.
Then Nana dropped down onto the plush carpet in the middle of his studio and stretched like a cat herself, the dress riding up dangerously high.
The paintbrush snapped in his hand.
"Cutie," he said, his voice strained. "What are you doing?"
"Hmm?" She rolled onto her back, completely oblivious to the way his dual-toned eyes—blue and pink—were tracking her every movement with predatory focus. "The carpet is so soft! Come feel it!"
"I'm working." His tail, usually so expressive and playful, had gone completely rigid behind him.
"You've been working all day." She rolled again, this time onto her stomach, and the movement made her dress slip up even further. "Take a break. Come play with me."
Play. She said 'play' like she wasn't currently destroying his sanity.
Rafayel's claws—which he normally kept retracted—extended involuntarily, digging into his palette. The wood cracked. He was losing control faster than anticipated. The mating cycle was hitting harder this month, probably because Nana had been away on missions for two weeks straight.
Two weeks without her scent. Without her touch. Without her.
And now she was rolling around on his carpet in a short dress like she was trying to kill him.
"Rafayel?" She looked up at him with those innocent eyes. "Are you okay? Your ears are doing that thing again."
"What thing?" He managed to grit out.
"The flat thing. Like when you're annoyed." She sat up on her knees, and the position made her dress stretch across her thighs in a way that made his mouth go dry. "Are you mad at me?"
"No." Yes. Maybe. He didn't know what he was anymore except desperately, painfully aroused.
"Then come here." She patted the carpet beside her. "Please? I missed you."
That did it. The simple admission that she'd missed him broke through another layer of his control. Before he could think better of it, he was crossing the studio, sinking down beside her on the carpet.
Immediately, her scent surrounded him—sweet and warm and distinctly *Nana*. His pupils dilated into vertical slits.
"There," she said happily, completely unaware of the danger she was in. "Isn't this better than painting?"
"Debatable," he muttered, but when she leaned against his shoulder, he couldn't help but lean back.
She giggled and shifted to face him, her hand coming up to boop his nose. "You're so grumpy today."
The touch—innocent as it was—sent electricity through him. His ears shot up, alert and focused entirely on her.
"Don't," he warned.
"Don't what?" She did it again, tapping his nose with one finger. "This? But it's so cute when your nose twitches."
His nose did twitch, and he barely suppressed a growl. "Nana—"
"And these!" Her attention shifted to his ears, fingers reaching up to scratch behind one. "I love how soft they are."
The sensation made his eyes flutter closed involuntarily, a purr starting low in his chest. This was dangerous. He should stop her. Should pull away.
But it felt so good.
"That's better," she cooed, clearly pleased with herself. "See? You just needed some affection."
Her other hand slid down to his chest, and he realized with horror that she could probably feel how fast his heart was racing.
"Cutie," he said, catching her wrist. "You need to stop."
"Why?" She tilted her head, genuinely curious. "You love when I pet you."
"Not right now, I don't."
"Liar. You're purring."
He was. Damn it, he was purring like an idiot even as every nerve in his body screamed at him to pounce on her.
"That's just... automatic response," he managed.
"Really?" Her eyes lit up with mischief—that expression that meant she was about to make his life infinitely more difficult. "What about this?"
Her hand slid lower, down his abdomen, and before he could stop her, she was scratching his belly through his shirt.
The effect was instantaneous and devastating.
His back arched, a strangled moan escaping before he could stop it. His tail shot out straight behind him, trembling. The purring in his chest became almost painfully loud.
"Nana—" Her name came out as a desperate whimper.
"Oh wow," she breathed, her eyes wide. "You really like that, huh?"
Like was an understatement. His belly was one of his most sensitive spots, especially during mating season. Having her touch it was like lighting a match to gasoline.
"Stop," he begged, but his body betrayed him by arching into her touch.
"But you're being so cute—" Her hand moved higher, still scratching, and his control shattered like glass.
One second she was sitting beside him. The next, he'd flipped their positions, pinning her beneath him on the carpet with his hands on either side of her head.
His eyes were wild, pupils completely blown out. His ears were flat against his head, and his tail lashed behind him in agitation. Small flames flickered to life around them—his fire Evol responding to his emotional state.
"Rafayel?" Her voice was smaller now, finally recognizing the danger.
"I warned you," he growled, and his voice had gone rough and feline. "I told you to stop."
"I didn't know—"
"I'm in my mating cycle, cutie." He leaned down, nose brushing along her throat, breathing in her scent. "Have been for three days. And you just walked in here looking like that, smelling like that, *touching* me like that."
He felt her breath hitch. "Oh."
"Oh," he repeated mockingly. Then his tone softened, became almost pleading. "Tell me to stop. Tell me you don't want this. Because if you don't, I'm going to lose what's left of my control, and I won't be gentle."
She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Then her hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his bottom lip.
"What if I don't want you to be gentle?"
The last thread snapped.
His mouth crashed against hers with bruising intensity, all teeth and tongue and desperate need. She opened for him immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.
He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. Like he'd die if he stopped. His hands roamed her body frantically, mapping curves he'd memorized a hundred times but needed to confirm were still there, still his.
"Missed you," he gasped against her lips. "Missed you so much. Two weeks is too long. Can't be away from you that long during cycle."
"I'm sorry," she breathed, and then gasped as his mouth moved to her throat, biting down possessively. "I didn't know—ah!"
"Going to mark you everywhere," he promised darkly. "Going to make sure every person who sees you knows you're taken. Knows you're *mine*."
His hands found the hem of her dress, shoving it up unceremoniously. No finesse, no artistry—just raw, animal need.
"Rafayel—"
"Say my name like that again," he demanded, his fingers hooking into her panties. "Love hearing you say my name."
"Rafayel," she obliged, and the sound went straight to his cock.
He stripped her efficiently, tossing her clothes aside without care. Then he sat back on his heels to look at her, and the sight made him actually whimper.
She was beautiful. Flushed and wanting and spread out beneath him like an offering.
"You're staring," she said, reaching for him.
"I'm an artist. I appreciate beauty." But his hands were already moving, sliding up her inner thighs. "And you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
When his fingers finally reached her center, they both groaned. She was already wet, ready for him.
"All this from a little teasing?" he murmured, circling her clit with maddening lightness. "Or did you know what you were doing? Were you trying to drive me crazy, cutie?"
"Maybe," she admitted breathlessly.
That confession made something feral flash in his eyes. "You're going to regret that."
He removed his hand completely, ignoring her whine of protest, and started stripping off his own clothes. He was usually so dramatic about it, turning it into a show, but now he just tore everything off with single-minded efficiency.
When he was finally naked, she could see the evidence of his arousal—his cock hard and flushed, already leaking at the tip. But what caught her attention were the faint scales that had appeared on his shoulders and down his spine, shimmering with iridescent color.
"Your scales," she breathed, reaching out to touch.
He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips instead. "Happens during mating season. Lemurian traits become more pronounced." He pressed kisses to her palm, her wrist. "Everything becomes more intense. Every sensation, every emotion, every need."
"Show me," she challenged.
He grinned—sharp and dangerous. "As you wish, my bride."
He positioned himself between her legs, but instead of entering her immediately, he surprised her by dipping his head down. His tongue licked a long stripe up her center, and she cried out.
"Going to taste you first," he said against her flesh. "Going to make you come on my tongue so you're nice and ready for me."
He wasn't gentle or teasing. His tongue worked her clit with desperate intensity while his fingers thrust inside her, curling to hit that perfect spot. His purring vibrated against her most sensitive flesh, adding another layer of sensation.
"Rafayel—too much—"
"Take it," he commanded between licks. "You teased me. Now you deal with the consequences."
His free hand slid up her body to grab her breast, thumb flicking over her nipple in time with his tongue's movements. The dual stimulation was overwhelming.
Her orgasm hit suddenly and intensely, her back arching off the carpet as she cried out his name. He worked her through it, not stopping until she was pushing at his head from oversensitivity.
When he rose up, his lips and chin glistened, and the satisfied smirk on his face was absolutely wicked.
"One," he said.
"One?"
"I'm going to make you come at least three more times before I'm done with you." He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her. "Mating cycle makes me insatiable. Hope you're ready, cutie."
He pushed inside in one long, slow thrust, and they both groaned at the sensation. He stretched her perfectly, filled her completely, and when he was fully seated, he dropped his forehead to hers.
"Mine," he breathed. "Say it."
"Yours," she gasped. "All yours."
"That's right." He pulled back and thrust in hard, setting a brutal pace immediately. "My wife. My mate. Mine to love, mine to claim, mine to *fuck*."
Each word was punctuated with a sharp thrust that hit deep. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise—marks of possession that would last for days.
The room grew hotter. Flames danced along the walls, across the ceiling, painting everything in shades of orange and gold. His fire Evol was completely out of control, responding to the inferno in his blood.
"Not going to last," he warned, his rhythm already becoming erratic. "You feel too good. Perfect. So perfect for me."
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper, and the change in angle made them both cry out.
"Touch my tail," he gasped. "Please, cutie, need—"
She reached down to where his tail was lashing behind him, grabbing the base and stroking. His reaction was immediate—his whole body went rigid, a yowl tearing from his throat as he came hard, spilling inside her with pulse after pulse.
But even in the throes of his orgasm, his hand found her clit, circling it frantically. "Come with me," he demanded. "Come on my cock, cutie. Give me another one."
The combination of him pulsing inside her and his skilled fingers pushed her over the edge again. She clenched around him rhythmically, milking every drop.
When they finally came down, trembling and gasping, she expected him to collapse beside her.
Instead, he was still hard inside her.
"Rafayel?" Her voice was hoarse.
"Told you," he said, that wicked grin returning. "Mating cycle. I'm not done with you yet. Not even close."
He pulled out only to flip her onto her hands and knees, entering her again from behind in one smooth thrust. This position let him go even deeper, hit different angles, and she could feel the scales on his abdomen brushing against her back.
"Going to fill you up so much," he groaned, setting another punishing pace. "Going to breed you properly. Make sure everyone knows you're claimed."
His hand came around to play with her clit while his other gripped her hip, guiding her back to meet his thrusts. The sounds of skin against skin mixed with their moans and his purring filled the studio.
"Can you feel how deep I am?" he asked, his voice strained. "How perfectly you take me? Like you were made for this. Made for me."
"Yes—Rafayel—please—"
"Please what, cutie? Use your words."
"Please make me come again. I need—"
"I know what you need." His fingers pressed harder against her clit, circling faster. "I always know. Because you're mine and I know every inch of you. Every sound you make. Every way to make you fall apart."
His other hand released her hip to grab her hair instead, pulling her head back gently but firmly. The position arched her back more, letting him somehow go even deeper.
"Look at you," he breathed, and she realized he could see their reflection in one of his paint-splattered windows. "So beautiful like this. Taking everything I give you. Perfect. My perfect wife."
The praise combined with the relentless stimulation pushed her into her third orgasm. This one was different—slower building but more intense, rolling through her in waves that seemed endless.
"That's it," Rafayel encouraged, his pace becoming frantic. "Squeeze me just like that. So good for me. So perfect."
He came again with a roar, his fire Evol exploding outward in a brilliant flash that didn't burn but bathed everything in warm light. His tail wrapped around her thigh possessively as he filled her again, his purring so loud it was almost painful.
This time when he finally pulled out, he did collapse, bringing her down with him to sprawl across the carpet. His arms wrapped around her immediately, pulling her back against his chest.
They lay there breathing hard, covered in sweat and utterly spent. The flames around the room guttered out, leaving only the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows.
"You okay, cutie?" Rafayel murmured into her hair, already sounding drowsy.
"Mmm. More than okay." She turned in his arms to face him. His ears were relaxed now, no longer flat or rigid. "How long does the mating cycle usually last?"
"Another four days or so." He nuzzled against her neck. "Hope you cleared your schedule."
"Rafayel!"
"What? You started this. Rolling around on my carpet in that little dress." His hand slid possessively over her hip. "Touching my ears. Scratching my belly. You knew what you were doing."
"I really didn't—"
"Well, now you do." He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, surprisingly tender after the intensity of before. "And you're stuck with me until the cycle passes. I won't be able to let you out of my sight. Won't be able to stop touching you. Claiming you."
She should probably be worried about that. Should probably insist she had responsibilities, missions, things to do.
But the way he held her—possessive yet protective, desperate yet devoted—made her heart melt.
"Okay," she said simply.
His purring intensified. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm all yours for the next four days."
"Best wife ever," he mumbled, already drifting toward sleep despite his earlier claims of being insatiable.
She smiled, running her fingers through his lavender hair and scratching gently behind his ears. His tail curled around her leg, and his scales began to fade back into smooth skin.
"Love you," she whispered.
"Mmm. Love you more." His arms tightened around her. "My cutie. My bride. Mine."
"Yours," she agreed, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
And as they lay there on the carpet surrounded by scattered paint supplies and discarded clothes, Nana made a mental note:
Never tease Rafayel during mating season.
Or maybe... always tease him during mating season.
The results were definitely worth it.
🐚🐚🐚