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Chapter 23 — Secret Desires

#Biting #Heat #Licking #Marking #Purring
Synopsis

In the privacy of an abandoned den, Cloudtail and Mistyfoot surrender completely to temptation. Casting aside guilt and shame, they explore their most intimate and passionate sides, setting aside the rules of the Clans to immerse themselves in an encounter of no return.

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Chapter 23
Secret Desires

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♣

Cloudtail swallowed too, and for a second, his cock seemed to throb harder, as if it felt heard, seen.

“Start slow,” he murmured. “Come closer. Use your tongue. Lick the tip first… as if you’re tasting something sweet. Just that.”

She lowered her head slowly, her eyes on him, and he kept his gaze on her movements, not daring to move. Mistyfoot positioned herself awkwardly between his legs, her whiskers brushing the base of his cock, and the scent of fresh sex rose like a punch. It was strong. Unmistakable. Intense. And yet, exciting.

She stuck out her tongue.

The tip barely touched the glans, warm and wet, and Cloudtail let out a tight sigh, his paws tensing reflexively. She felt him vibrate. She felt him tremble slightly under her touch.

“Like that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Just like that. Mmm… slower… run your tongue over the tip… yes, there…”

She obeyed. She caressed the head of his member with her tongue, circling it, savoring the clear liquid that pooled there, something salty, thick, strange. Not unpleasant. Just new. Slowly, she licked again, this time going down slightly along the shaft, and he exhaled another hoarse moan, a raspy note that trembled through the den.

“You can use your snout… just a little… it doesn’t have to be everything,” he whispered.

Mistyfoot hesitated for a moment, then opened her snout, just enough. She brushed the head with her lips, enveloped it gently, closing her eyes as she took in just a couple of centimeters. Cloudtail growled softly, purring in a staccato.

“Aahhh… yes… Misty… like that…”

She began to move, clumsy at first, then more fluid. Her snout moved up and down slowly, while her tongue played around the glans inside her mouth. Her paws held his hips, feeling how each of his gasps also made her shudder. The cock pulsed against her tongue, hot, salty, alive. Each time she took it in a little deeper, Cloudtail moaned more deeply.

And when she opened her eyes and saw him… saw him trembling, biting his lip, with his head thrown back, his muscles hard as rocks… she knew she was doing it right.

However, for Mistyfoot, the first moment was bewildering.

Mistyfoot, trembling between Cloudtail’s open legs, felt the heat of his cock brushing her cheek as she leaned in, swallowing saliva more out of nerves than desire yet. But that heat… was something completely different. It didn’t feel like the touch of a body, nor the panting of a companion after a fight, nor even the strong pulse she sometimes felt in her own belly when she was in heat.

This throbbed.

Not like a heart, no. It throbbed like a promise. Like a secret too big to fit between her fangs.

She brought her snout closer, holding her breath. The smell hit her first.

Thick. Salty. Strong. It had that deep aroma that only males in heat carry with them, mixed with his own, that note of his, between the iron of blood and the sweetness of sweat. A living smell. And at the same time… disgustingly addictive. It was dirty. There was no other word. Mistyfoot felt it make her tongue vibrate even before touching it, and her nostrils flared in response.

And then the tip of her snout brushed the head of his cock.

The heat was beastly. It didn’t burn, but it invaded. It was soft in texture, almost velvety, but hard beneath that skin. A firm pulse. Charged. She shivered from head to toe. Her whiskers trembled as she opened her snout.

And she took it.

The cock entered with a short, wet sound. Barely a few centimeters, barely the tip, but her tongue felt the full thickness. And Mistyfoot… froze.

“So thick?”

Her jaw opened wider. Not enough. She felt the pressure on her lips, on the muscles of her snout, as if she were biting into a huge, soft prey that couldn’t be swallowed or released. It was… overwhelming. She didn’t know how to continue. She didn’t know how to move. She only knew she had a throbbing cock in her snout and it was leaving her tongue warm, wet, wrapped in flavor.

The taste.

It was like the smell, but more. Salty. Bitter at the edges. Almost metallic, but denser, more alive. As if she could taste Cloudtail’s tension, his contained hunger, his accumulated desire. It was pure instinct. And yet, when she closed her lips a little, just a little, the moan he let out made her legs tremble.

“Mhhh… Misty… keep going…”

That voice. That broken, panting voice, coming from a chest that struggled to breathe. Mistyfoot felt her stomach tighten, not with fear, but with heat. With something new. Something deeper. Her snout was still full. Saliva began to pool at the corners. And without realizing it, she moaned.

She moaned with the cock in her snout.

Every time she exhaled, she smelled it stronger. Every time she moved a centimeter, she felt the saliva slip down the base of the member, moistening it, covering it, preparing the way for what she still didn’t know if she could do. Her tongue played, probed, tried to understand the exact shape of what she had in her snout. And every time she moved, a wet, sickeningly sensual sound filled the den.

Schlp… schlp… hhgh—

Cloudtail moaned. Loud. Vulnerable. And his claws scratched the ground.

“Like that… Misty… you’re… —he panted, and his voice broke with pleasure—. You’re doing so well… by the stars…”

She couldn’t answer. Her snout was full. The taste kept growing, mixed with her saliva, with the clear liquid that flowed from the tip and joined her tongue. Everything in her snout was sticky now. Her entire palate was covered with him. She felt… marked. From within. As if every lick, every movement, every breath that escaped through her nose, made her more his.

Mistyfoot moaned. She couldn’t help it. The heat enveloped her, rose through her throat. Despite the nervousness, the initial discomfort, now she felt something else: power. She knew Cloudtail was writhing because of her. That his hips moved, clumsy, trying not to push, but wanting to. That his claws dug into the earth to avoid forcing her. She had his cock in her snout, and that made him hers.

The sensation was… inhuman. The taste, addictive. Her snout… completely full. But more than anything, the scent of the male stayed inside her, marking her breath, filling her senses. She wanted to let go, take a breath, move away… and she couldn’t. Something in her had already surrendered.

And Cloudtail looked at her from above, panting as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Don’t stop… Misty… please… just a little more…”

And his voice was pure plea.

Cloudtail’s cock not only remained firm. It was widening.

Mistyfoot noticed when, trying to take it a little deeper into her snout, her jaw tensed to the limit. The thickness had doubled since she first took it. She felt the exact pressure against her palate, against the inside of her lips, against every wet corner that now surrounded it. It was as if his cock wanted to claim more space inside her snout, more tongue, more submission, more of her. And despite the tension in her jaws, the heat, the drool escaping from the corners, Mistyfoot didn’t stop.

She trembled. But not with fear. Not with shame.

It was something else.

It was nervousness tinged with addiction. Anxiety turned into excitement. The taste that had initially confused her was beginning to become something she desired. She didn’t know exactly why. Maybe it was the way it thickened every time she licked it, as if she could extract his desires with her tongue. Or maybe it was the way Cloudtail breathed above her, each breath uneven, as if he were on the verge of losing control. Or because it tasted like him. His desire. His surrender.

She wanted more. She wanted to taste him better. To know every corner of that pulsating flesh that tensed inside her snout.

And so, she began to lick differently.

She opened her snout wider, releasing his cock just enough to brush it with her flat tongue, from the base to the tip, in a long, slow lick, letting all her drool cover it. Sschlurp. She licked again, this time with the tip, playfully, making circles on the head, tracing invisible patterns that made Cloudtail release sighs laden with contained lust.

“Mnhh… Misty… by the stars…”

She didn’t respond. Her tongue was out, sliding along the underside of his shaft, savoring the veins that ran through it like thick roots. Then she took him back into her snout, this time tilting her snout so that the tip hit her palate, licking while gently sucking, letting herself be carried by the rhythm her body had already begun to understand.

Cloudtail panted.

And then, his paw rested on her head.

He didn’t push. He didn’t force. He just rested there, his claws gently extended, as if he were holding back from sinking them in. It was a gesture more intimate than any kiss. More powerful than any penetration. He wasn’t guiding her. He was accompanying her. Adoring her from above.

She felt it. She knew. He wanted more. He desperately wanted her to take him whole, to swallow him to the back of her throat, to feel him pulsing where there were no more words or sounds, only guttural moans and involuntary tears. But he was holding back. For her.

And that… made her tremble.

She wanted to be gentle.

That tenderness was an unexpected blow amidst so much desire. It made her skin bristle under her fur, softened her stomach, ignited her chest. She trembled again, not out of fear now, but from the nerves of the moment, from that mix of lasciviousness and sweetness she didn’t know could exist. She had never had a cock in her snout. She had never felt so full, nor so exposed, nor so in need of pleasing. But she did.

And she loved it.

She lowered her head a little more. She felt the tip brush her throat. She coughed slightly, her tongue curved like a wet spoon to hold it. Cloudtail trembled above her, his breathing turning into short gasps, his hips barely moving, restraining himself.

Mistyfoot carefully retreated, licked the tip again, then sucked more firmly, suctioning with her snout full of drool, moving with a clumsy but sincere rhythm, while saliva dripped down her chin, matting her fur.

“Aaaah… Misty, please…” he purred, hoarse. “It feels… so fucking good…”

She moaned with her full snout.

She couldn’t speak. But her tongue said it all. Long licks. Gentle sucks. Slow suction. She moved using her entire snout, exploring, trying different ways to lick him, as if she were studying his body with hunger and patience, as if each gesture were a promise she didn’t yet know how to name.

And Cloudtail… stroked her head, his paw brushing the base of her ear, never pushing her, but wishing she wouldn’t stop.

She didn’t want to stop either.

Mistyfoot was no longer guided by clumsiness, but by hunger.

The salty, thick taste that had initially seemed foreign to her was now her drug. Every time she ran her tongue along the shaft of Cloudtail’s cock, something ignited deeper inside her, as if she were licking his heart directly.

Her snout was sticky, drool sliding down her jaw and the fleshy shaft that pulsed beneath her tongue. The smell no longer intimidated her; it excited her. It was pure musk, a mix of desire and tension, and she wanted it all.

And without saying a word, without looking up, she lowered her head further.

She didn’t ask, didn’t seek permission. She lowered her snout to the base. She felt how the skin of the cock stretched against her lips, how the density increased, how the heat was deeper as she descended. The tip hit the back of her throat, and instead of stopping, she tilted her head slightly, opening her snout wider, seeking with her tongue and snout how to encompass more.

And then she reached it.

Her tongue licked the base now, right where Cloudtail’s balls tensed, hot, agitated. She ran her tongue under the shaft, slow, firm, making the male growl suddenly, his nose wrinkled, eyes closed, and snout slightly open in pure panting.

“Hhhhhh—ah, Stars… Misty!”

His cock pulsed strongly beneath her tongue, and that made her continue. She sucked more at the base, creating suction with her cheeks, trapping the thickness with the entire inner part of her snout, leaving it covered in drool that dripped uncontrollably.

Her tail wagged as if she were in heat, her entire body focused on serving him, adoring him, making him break. She heard him breathe raggedly. She felt his thighs tense. She had him right where she wanted him.

And then, in a mix of boldness and clumsiness, she went lower. Even lower.

She slid her snout along the shaft with a line of drool as a guide, pushed with her open jaw, and felt how the thick tip passed over her palate, then her throat. A tug. A spasm.

And suddenly, the entire cock entered.

All the way in.

“Aaahhhhhh—!”

She froze.

A tremor ran through her body like an electric shock. Her eyes widened. Her throat closed for a moment. She coughed, choked slightly, her paws clumsily resting on his thighs, but she didn’t pull away.

She didn’t let go. She had Cloudtail’s entire cock in her snout, hot, pulsating, so deep inside that it hurt, filled her, broke any notion of control. She moaned, yes. Scared. But also excited.

Her snout drooled uncontrollably, her throat trembled, and Cloudtail… felt it all.

He let out a growl that came from deep within his belly, grave and hoarse like a distant storm, and his paws rose to her head. Not with violence. But with urgency.

He held her.

“Misty… don’t move…” he panted through gritted teeth, his face contorted with pleasure, his muscles marked like ropes beneath his fur. “Let me… let me move a little… just a little…”

And he did.

With his cock buried in Mistyfoot’s throat, Cloudtail began to move his hips, slowly at first, his paws guiding her head as if it were part of him. The cock slid out a few centimeters and then went back in. And Mistyfoot trembled with each thrust, panting without being able to breathe fully, but she didn’t pull away. She endured it. Her eyes filled with tears from the intensity, from the burning that ran through her throat, from the feeling of being filled beyond her limits.

Schlk… schlk… schlk…

The sounds were wet, obscene, desperate. Mistyfoot’s snout glistened with saliva, fluids, desire. The fur beneath her chin was already soaked. Every time the cock slid to the back, she moaned, and those moans vibrated directly in Cloudtail’s shaft, making him growl deeper.

“Nnhhh… stars, Misty, that… like that… don’t stop…!”

His rhythm accelerated slightly, Cloudtail’s hips pushing harder against her snout, his paws holding her firmly, his claws brushing behind her ears, between gentle caresses and absolute possession.

It wasn’t violence.

It was intensity.

An impulse he could barely control, and which Mistyfoot absorbed with each gulp of cock that filled her throat, making her moan more hoarsely, with more drool, her eyes closed and her entire body tensing to hold him.

The den smelled of sex and saliva, of restrained pants and brutal desire made flesh. Mistyfoot’s snout was completely occupied, Cloudtail’s cock buried deep in her throat while he held her head, trembling, moaning, his thighs hard as stone and his eyes tightly closed.

Each thrust was a moan. Each push, an act of surrender.

Mistyfoot felt it all: the weight, the shape, the heat of that cock entering again and again, slipping between her lips, filling her with a thickness that still surprised her. Sometimes the tip hit so deep that she choked, her throat closing with wet spasms, but he didn’t stop. Not because he didn’t care—she felt it in his caresses, in how he brushed the base of her ears with tenderness even as he thrust—but because he could no longer stop.

Cloudtail was fucking her throat.

“Mnh… M-Misty… ahh…” His voice was barely a growl, and his cock throbbed more with each thrust, dripping inside her mouth, brushing the entrance of her throat as if wanting to open something beyond the body.

She moaned voicelessly. She couldn’t speak. Her snout drooled uncontrollably. She felt the saliva slipping down her neck, how the air became scarce each time he sank to the base, filling her with everything, so deep that she could barely blink. Her eyes wet, her chest tense, her paws wobbling beneath her body, but she didn’t pull away. She endured. She continued.

And Cloudtail didn’t stop using her.

The cock moved in her snout with a slow but firm, wet, fleshy, rhythmic pace. Mistyfoot felt the tip expand and pulse, knew he was close, that he held back with clenched fangs and stifled moans. And then…

He pulled out.

With a strong pant, as if he had saved himself from falling, Cloudtail completely withdrew his cock from her throat with a wet snap.

Pop.

A thick thread of saliva connected the shiny tip with her panting tongue. Mistyfoot slumped a little, her snout open, her tongue out, breathing with difficulty. Her eyes sought his, her body trembling. The air that returned to her lungs was a relief, and for a second, she thought she could speak.

“Cloudtail… maybe—”

She didn’t finish.

She wasn’t given time.

He growled, grabbed her head again—this time harder, with his claws barely pressing behind her ears—and pushed her forward. His cock entered again, suddenly, entirely.

“Ghhrk!”

Mistyfoot gasped, her throat invaded again, without warning, without respite. Her body shuddered, her eyes opened wide when the base hit her lips, and Cloudtail began to move.

Brutal.

It was no longer slow. It was no longer delicate. Cloudtail’s hips thrust with force, again and again, his cock pounding her throat with an animal rhythm, wet, noisy, the thrusts echoing in the den like blows against wet stone.

Schlk, schlk, schlk!

The sound was vulgar, relentless, and Mistyfoot moaned with her full snout, her throat vibrating with each thrust.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t think.

She could only feel it. His cock entering violently, each centimeter filling her to the deepest, Cloudtail’s fingers tangled in her head, using her, fucking her mercilessly, his entire body trembling with wild pleasure.

And then it happened.

Without warning.

Cloudtail growled forcefully, his head thrown back, his cock pushed to the back… and he came.

“Aaah—Misty—Nnnghhh!”

His body shuddered with uncontrollable spasms, and she felt it: a thick, hot wave, directly into her throat.

One.

Two.

Three spurts.

Hot semen spilling into her mouth, filling it, overflowing, while he continued to push, his paws tense, his breaths broken, moaning as if he were breaking inside.

Mistyfoot couldn’t swallow it all. She coughed, her throat pulsing, and some of the semen escaped from the corners, slipping down her snout. It spilled over her tongue, her chin, staining her fur, mixed with saliva and sticky drool.

Cloudtail stayed like that, panting, his cock still inside, while he trembled on his knees, his body exhausted from the release. His paw remained on her head, softer now, caressing her as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done.

She… was still trembling. Dripping.

With her snout full. And her paws wet. And her throat burning.

Mistyfoot panted silently, her eyes half-closed, her tongue out and her snout covered in hot semen and thick drool that hung from her chin in viscous threads. Her breathing was a stuttered purr, her chest rose and fell with difficulty, and her throat burned, still pulsing from the lascivious remains she had just received

Cloudtail’s cock was still inside.

He hadn’t moved.

She still felt it there, wet, pulsating, buried deep in her mouth, as if wanting to mark her from within. She didn’t dare to look at him. She was red to the ears, her entire face burning with shame, confusion, something that resembled pleasure too much to hate it. For a moment, she thought of pulling away. Of growling at him. Of spitting that cum in his face for coming without warning, for pushing her head so deep, for using her throat as a warm nest to leave his seed without asking.

But then she felt it.

A caress.

Cloudtail’s paw, soft, trembling, gently brushed her nape. No pressure. No possession. It was different. It was… apology.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, choked with guilt and tenderness mixed. “I always… like to do it this way, but… I shouldn’t have. Not so hard. Not so suddenly…”

He caressed her head carefully, as if afraid of breaking her now. His claws, once dug into her skull with desire, now gently brushed behind her ears, descended her neck, barely trembling as they passed through the tangled strands of her wet fur. Mistyfoot, still with his cock in her snout, felt something prick her chest.

That touch.

That voice.

He wasn’t the same cat who had used her throat mercilessly. He was another. He was Cloudtail, who caressed her as if wanting to mend her with his fingers. As if his remorse came out through the tips of his paws. She swallowed hard. Or tried to. But the semen was still there, thick, stuck in the corners, on her tongue, on her palate. Her saliva continued to accumulate, dripping onto her chest, matting strands of her fur with remnants of cum, as if the scene didn’t want to finish staining her.

She blushed.

A lot.

The heat rose to her ears, making her squeeze her eyes tightly, as if she could disappear. She felt Cloudtail’s paw pass over her head again and again, tenderly, guiltily, with something that resembled affection too much. You can’t be angry now, her body thought, not when he caresses you like this. But her mind resisted. She remembered the sudden thrust. The suffocation. The violent tremor. The taste still stuck to her gums.

And yet… she didn’t hate it.

When he finally pulled his cock out of her mouth, he did it slowly. Carefully. The sound it made as it came out was a wet plop, followed by a trail of semen that stretched between her tongue and the tip, like an indecent thread that broke in the air. Mistyfoot opened her snout just enough to let out a sharp pant, finally breathing freely, her lips glistening with mixed saliva and semen, hanging in thick strands from her chin. Drool fell onto her chest. She didn’t wipe it away.

Cloudtail leaned in.

And without saying a word… he kissed her.

His snout pressed against hers, his tongue brushing the still dirty corner, without disgust, without hesitation. He kissed her with his snout full of his own cum, licking his taste on her lips, sharing it with dirty tenderness and purring devotion. Mistyfoot opened her eyes, surprised. She felt the touch, wet, warm. Their bodies so close. Her stained snout being adored.

And her tail wagged.

An involuntary movement. Spontaneous. Soft but noticeable. The tip waved behind her, as if her body confessed what her mind still couldn’t admit: that this, this disgustingly intimate surrender, this caress over the dirty, she liked.

Cloudtail noticed the movement.

He smiled, against her mouth, his eyes half-closed.

“Do you see…?” he murmured, his voice laden with rough tenderness. “Even drooling, you’re still beautiful.”

Mistyfoot closed her eyes again. She didn’t speak. But her tail didn’t stop moving. Shame tinged her face, but deep in her chest, something else burned, warmer than humiliation, sweeter than anger.

And that thing didn’t go away.

Mistyfoot, still drooling remnants of Cloudtail’s brutal orgasm, remained in front of him with her face flushed. Her ears flattened with shame, but she didn’t move away. She didn’t hit him. She didn’t look at him with anger.

She looked at him… as if she didn’t know what to do with what she felt.

She could barely hold his gaze.

She swallowed, her throat still sensitive, and lowered her eyes before murmuring:

“I didn’t… dislike it completely.”

The words fell heavy, wet. As if they cost double. As if tearing them from her chest hurt more than everything that had happened. Cloudtail blinked, surprised at first, but the smile that curved his lips afterward was slow, satisfied, grave. His fur was bristling with contained pleasure, and his eyes shone with something softer than desire. Warmer. More intimate.

“Oh, really?” he purred in a hoarse voice that made her legs tremble. “Sure? Because it seemed like you wanted to… swallow everything.”

“C-Cloudtail…” she moaned, bringing a paw to her snout, red to the tip of her tail. “Don’t make me say it…”

She covered her face, but her tail wagged behind her, moving from side to side as if her body couldn’t lie. Cloudtail let out a low, grave, amused laugh. He caressed her cheek with one of his paws, approaching until his snout brushed the corner of her lips, still stained, still glistening.

“Okay… but next time, I’ll warn you. I promise.”

She nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt too vulnerable, too exposed. As if all her layers had melted between his tongue and her throat. And yet, she was there. She didn’t move away. She didn’t want to move away.

“And the taste?” he whispered, now kissing her other cheek more softly. “Did you like it…?”

Mistyfoot froze.

Her ears twitched, her eyes opened slightly, and she covered her face more with a paw, sinking.

“I told you not to make me say it…” she murmured, barely audible.

Cloudtail cornered her with tenderness, now purring against her neck.

“Say it… Misty… please… tell me…”

She refused. But her body surrendered. He knew it. He felt it in the way her breathing quickened. In the way her belly tensed. And without moving away, he began to kiss her neck. Not just tenderly. With intention.

Slowly, his snout slid along the edge of her jaw, then down her throat. And when he reached a spot just below her ear, he bit her. Not hard. Just a nip with his fangs. But Mistyfoot arched as if she had been pierced.

“Ah—hhhn!”

Her moan was different. High-pitched. Vulnerable. Her entire body shuddered, and her paw lowered as if she couldn’t hold her shame-covered face. Cloudtail blinked.

“Here?” he whispered, and bit again.

She trembled. Her legs loosened. Her tongue slipped out of her snout.

“Nnnh… C-Cloudtail… y-yes…”

And then she said it. Between pants. Between wet sighs.

“Y-yes… I liked… the taste…”

The phrase came out drenched, desperate, as if she couldn’t take it anymore. Cloudtail let out a satisfied growl, his tongue tracing the same spot again, then descending her neck with addictive lust. She trembled. She no longer covered herself. She couldn’t. Her body surrendered.

He pushed her with a paw. Soft, but firm. Mistyfoot fell on her back, her back hitting the soft ground of the den. Her breathing was a trembling pant. Her legs open. Her chest rose and fell. Her thighs were wet from before, but her vulva, now completely exposed, glistened. Pink. Swollen. Pulsating.

Displayed.

Cloudtail looked at her. He stayed there for a moment, his eyes dark, his breathing heavy, and his member just beginning to harden again. He leaned over her. His gaze fixed on that tender center, that vulva that opened with each beat, with each shudder of her body.

“You’re beautiful…”

Mistyfoot averted her gaze, trembling.

But she didn’t close her eyes.

And her tail waved more strongly, moving between her legs as if her body begged for what was coming.

Cloudtail approached, dragging his belly, slow, his paws gently brushing the ground as if he were hunting her, but his gaze was not that of a predator. It was of an admirer. Of an enslaved lover enchanted by what he saw. And upon reaching between her thighs, with his snout just a few millimeters from that glistening flesh, he wasn’t the first to act. It was his body.

He began to purr.

Deep. Long. A profound sound that vibrated from his chest to his snout, and he directed it right against her vulva.

The warm purr caressed her.

Mistyfoot let out a muffled moan, arching her back. The vibration of his purring breath on that wet area was so exquisitely soft, so unexpectedly intimate, that her legs closed slightly around his head by reflex, before opening again clumsily.

Cloudtail smiled, without lifting his gaze.

He smelled her.

A slow, deep sniff, sliding his nose between the outer folds, breathing in her moisture as if it were the perfume of a secret flower. The scent hit him hard, musky, sweet, intense as only a fully aroused female can smell. And that made him purr louder, opening his snout between each inhalation, absorbing the heat that emanated from her center.

“Mnh… what a delicious smell…” he murmured, his voice broken with desire. “And all this… for me.”

And then he licked her.

Not directly in the center. Not yet. Just a light touch, barely a pass of his tongue from the right outer fold, moving up slowly, firmly, leaving a warm, wet line on the sensitive skin that made her shudder from head to toe.

“Aahhh…” Mistyfoot clenched her teeth, biting her lip, her eyes closing tightly. “Don’t play with me…”

Cloudtail lifted his head slightly, his chin already glistening from the first contact, and his gaze burned.

“Do you want me to continue?” he asked in that hoarse tone, soft but dangerous, like a murmur before a leap.

She looked at him.

Trembling. Blushing to her ears. Her breathing quick and uneven.

And she replied:

“I wouldn’t even let you leave without returning the favor…” Her voice broke at the end, but she took a deep breath and continued. “Y-you too… lick. It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

The phrase trembled in her throat, but she let it out whole, like a promise and a challenge.

Cloudtail laughed.

A low, deep, enchanted laugh. Not mocking. Not cruel. But made of pure delight. His purr became more intense, vibrating against her vulva again.

“You’re right,” he said, his snout descending again. “It’s only fair.”

And this time it wasn’t a timid lick. It was surrender.

His tongue spread over her, wide, strong, hot, and he slid it decisively from the hollow between her inner lips to the most sensitive point at the top. Mistyfoot’s vulva trembled, pulsed, and she gasped louder, her back arching, her paws gripping the ground.

“Ahhh… Cloudtail… nnnnnh…”

He growled against her, his snout already buried in her folds, his tongue licking her with measured hunger, like someone who never tires of savoring something long awaited. His breath bathed her, and each vibration of the purr made her clitoris throb. He savored her entirely. He licked her on the outside, then deeper, opening with his tongue, surrounding her sensitive spot until it jumped. And Mistyfoot couldn’t stop moaning.

“Yes… yes… there… keep going… keep going…”

Cloudtail lowered his snout further, his breath close to that open, glistening flesh that pulsed like a flower overflowing with rain. Mistyfoot trembled beneath him, her back arched, her thighs slightly tense, and her clitoris peeking out, turgid and wet like a newly revealed jewel.

The scent was stronger now, rawer, sweeter, and when his tongue rested again on the folds, Cloudtail felt that electric current rise up his spine and clench his teeth.

But he didn’t lick thoughtlessly.

He did it slowly. Planned. Varied.

He passed his tongue in a wide, slow stroke, from the base of her entrance to the tip, covering the entire outer channel. Then he changed, licking sideways, with the tip, giving small touches on her clitoris, pressing it slightly, feeling how she panted, how the moans escaped her in broken spasms that dissolved in the air of the den. His cock, still hard, pulsed beneath him, almost painfully, but he didn’t move yet. He just savored.

He had experience.

He remembered.

Not just the mechanics of licking, sucking, making his tongue vibrate like a soft hum on that spot that made her back arch. No. He remembered… with his body. With the memory of the forbidden. Of a silent night, of a moan stifled with a bite. Of another name.

Lostface.

The image of her briefly crawled through his mind: the tousled fur, the pulsating scars, the taste that wasn’t like this, the moan he had heard that time when he made her come for the first time just with his tongue. It was a sweet and bitter sensation. That night had been something else. More urgent. More broken. More furious.

But Mistyfoot…

Mistyfoot tasted like a river. Like a wet stone. Like heat stored beneath the surface, a softer, deeper, sweeter taste that stuck to the tongue. The taste of her vulva was thick, like stirred honey, and her moans were different, more musical, tremulous, as if she struggled with each sound not to surrender completely.

Cloudtail closed his eyes. The memory of her faded. He didn’t say her name. He didn’t think about it anymore. He just licked again, now alternating rhythms: wide and slow licks, then fast and with the tip, then small circles with his tongue directly on the clitoris. Every time Mistyfoot moaned, he moaned too, a guttural purr that came from his chest, vibrating between his fangs.

“Nnnnh… Cloud… Cloudtail!” she cried with a broken voice, her belly shaken with pleasure.

And that made him continue.

Cloudtail’s cock was so hard it hurt. It dripped uncontrollably, the clear liquid running down the shaft, staining the earth beneath his body. And every time Mistyfoot shuddered from the touch of his tongue, every time she screamed his name, that heat built up more, rising through his pelvis, pressing his control.

Not now, he told himself. Her first.

He licked deeply again, sliding his tongue between the inner lips of her vulva, drinking the nectar that flowed, sucking hard just before returning to the clitoris and licking it sideways, with an erratic rhythm. He wanted to drive her crazy. He wanted to see her beg. He wanted his name to come trembling from her snout when she came against his snout.

And Mistyfoot was close.

“Ah! Nnhh! Mmmnh—!”

Her moans became incoherent, her pelvis rose to meet his tongue, her paws closed over his head as if she never wanted to let him go. Cloudtail growled low, his eyes dark, his snout buried, licking her as if his life depended on savoring her completely.

And yet, in the midst of his ecstasy, when a shiver of memory brushed his spine, he stopped for an instant… just one…

Her face returned, a sigh, a glance.

But Mistyfoot moaned so loudly then that that echo was erased.

And now only she existed. Dripping. Trembling. Showing herself entirely. Open like a wet secret that only he could keep between his teeth.

Each lick was a wave of heat, and his tongue, wet and firm, slid with a dedication that sought not to accelerate anything, but to explore her completely. She trembled, panted, without disguise or shame now, with her back arched and her vulva pulsing like an exposed heart.

“Mmmh… Cloud…” she whispered, her voice almost broken with pure joy. “It’s… it’s the first time someone has done this to me…”

Cloudtail stopped for just a second, lifting his eyes between her thighs, his cheeks already wet with her essence.

“Really?” he purred, and slowly lowered his snout again, kissing the wet fold just below her clitoris. “And how am I doing…?”

Mistyfoot let out a stifled laugh, blushing to the roots of her fur, her trembling paws using her own paws to open herself more in a shy and dirty gesture. She carefully parted her buttocks, making her center even more vulnerable, exposing the swollen vulva, completely open, wet, slippery, dripping onto the ground.

“E-Excellent…” she murmured, barely audible. “You’re doing… excellent…”

The response ignited something in Cloudtail. His snout slid lower, and his tongue went back to work with wild precision. He started with the outer lips of her vulva, those soft and sensitive folds that enveloped her entirely, licking with long and firm movements from one end to the other, as if cleaning the sweet juice that flowed from her body. The taste was dense, salty and syrupy, and every time he passed his tongue, she shuddered.

“Aah… there… yes… mmmnn!” Mistyfoot panted, moving her pelvis towards his face without even noticing.

Cloudtail didn’t stop. He alternated the direction: upward licks, then downward, zigzagging with his tongue, soaking her entirely. When he reached the inner lips, more sensitive, wetter, he barely inserted the tip of his tongue between them and licked inside, slowly, causing Mistyfoot to let out a soft, cut-off scream, as if pleasure pierced her belly.

The heat between her legs was suffocating. Every movement of his tongue sent sparks to his spine, and when he went back up to the clitoris, Mistyfoot trembled.

Cloudtail circled the clitoris with his tongue, without touching it directly. A circular detour, moistening the delicate skin that surrounded it, provoking a delicious vibration without giving it direct contact. She was already panting nonstop, her vulva swollen, with drops of her moisture descending her perineum to stain her entrance.

“P-please… ahh… there, Cloudtail…”

Then he did it. He licked the clitoris directly. First with the tip, softly, a touch. She arched. Then he trapped it with his whole tongue and barely sucked, sucking while turning his tongue in a slow and firm rhythm. Mistyfoot screamed. An open, torn moan that came from her chest.

“AAAh—ahhh, yes… yes…! Don’t stop!”

The clitoris, so small and so sensitive, was like a button of fire. Every contact made it throb, every suck electrified her. Cloudtail licked it in circles, then in vertical strokes, then with soft side licks. He constantly changed, never letting her get used to it. And every new way made her scream louder, every new pressure stole her breath.

But he didn’t limit himself to the clitoris. He went down again to her inner lips, traced them entirely, sucked them as if he wanted to savor every millimeter of her sex, then returned to the entrance. He licked right where the opening glistened with her moisture, tasting the juice that flowed, soaking his snout, moaning against her flesh.

Mistyfoot writhed.

She didn’t know what to do with her body. Her tail wagged frantically, her paws trembled, her hips rose on their own. Every lick was an explosion. Her center burned. Her clitoris throbbed as if it had its own pulse. And her entire body melted under Cloudtail’s tongue.

He, below, with his eyes closed, licked as if he adored a secret spring. As if his pleasure was born in the way she moaned, as if every drop of moisture he collected with his tongue was a reward.

And Mistyfoot… surrendered more with each second. She no longer thought. She only burned. And he didn’t stop.

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