Quin stumbled through the door, their jacket already torn, as Lyra’s cws pinned her against the wall. One hand creeping beneath their shirt, gently caressing their hip. Metal cws pricking their scuted tawny skin.

  Quin gasped. The hotel room, empty and quiet. Only a bed, a bathroom, and a rge window, curtains half drawn. Their faces, illuminated only by the synthetic blue glow of Icarus’s night. Breathing slowly. Hungry eyes gleaming, as short fangs softly parted Lyra’s dark lips.

  “I had like a whole dinner pnned, but i gue—” Their words were cut short. Lyras lips eclipsed their own. Gently lifting her paramour, to hold them nearer. Saliva dripped as their tongues entwined. Frantic pushing gives away to gentle nibbling of bottom lips. As Quin began to squirm in her spider-like grasp, her crotch grew warm as Lyra’s knee moved between their thighs. Which presently, and annoying would.

  Not.

  Stop.

  Rubbing . . . against her.

  “What was that darlin’?” She purred, her long silver hair falling loose, cascading her softly freckled shoulders. Like the moon on a ke, moments before dawn. A thin line of drool connecting them, a silver thread.

  “I . . . I wanted you to th–ink I am cool.” They stifled a moan mid sentence as their thighs tensed.

  “Awww my wildflower.” She crooned as her cw traced the line of Quin’s jaw. “All I want from you . . . is to feel good. So. Melt for me.”