I tilt my head, utterly mystified by this human design. Attached to her feet are two utterly strange contraptions. A tuft of exotic feathers bobs along her toes, and resting beneath her heels are tiny, narrow pegs. One peg has already snapped in half from the landing, leaving her balancing precariously.
Are the pink feathers meant to disguise her tracks? I narrow my eyes.
The tiny pegs seem designed to cause instability, a bizarre form of torture. I knew Earth was backwards, but I didn’t know how firmly dystopian it must be.
My female speaks to me in her sharp, rapid language, her tone rising with fury as she points a finger directly at the mechanical flying eye.
My tail thumps against the ground in sheer admiration. A fierce little creature. She has no armor, no talons, and her feet are trapped in torture devices, yet she is actively declaring war on the machine above.
My body chooses that exact moment to betray my discipline.
The mating poison I secreted when my wing talons brushed her skin during the fall has fully entered her bloodstream. The sweet, addictive fragrance of her response fills my nostrils—a rich, undertone of feverish heat.
My cock jumps violently inside my pants, beginning a rhythmicskithingthat pulses against the fabric. The base of my shaft hardens with an agonizing need to breed her, to sink myself deep into her cunt and claim her.
I clench my jaw, forcing the instinct down. If this show is an ambush, I cannot allow my biology and her perfection to make me weak—and worse, leave her vulnerable.
“We must walk,” I tell her. She doesn’t understand my language, blinking her gorgeous eyes in confusion. Everything about her is built to entice me, and even her look of distress has me aching to bed her.
I point at the horizon, showing her what I mean. She nods, her plump mouth assuming a determined line, and nods once. In affirmation, I gather, as she begins to hobble in the direction I pointed.
Which will not do. Her strange footwear is hindering our progress.
“I am going to carry you,” I tell her bluntly. Of course, my words do no good, just garner another interested look. A look that drifts from my eyes down my chest to where my cock is still rock hard for her.
I decide to take matters into my own hands by simply picking her up.
Which, of course, is completely distracting. Her scent, my heat on her, is intoxicating. Delicious. I want to fucking bury my face in her cunt and never stop tasting it.
It’s a distraction I can’t afford, no matter how hard my cock gets, though.
The sun drops behind the horizon swiftly as we walk, plunging the forest into an icy, pitch-black chill. A sharp wind sweeps through the trees, and my female immediately begins to tremble in my arms, her shoes dangling from her soft feet. I rumble in disapproval at the fluff, as well as the many cuts that are now peppering her tender soles and ankles.
She clings to me more tightly.
“We must sleep for the night. You need rest.” I do not think she will sleep while I carry her, for I can tell the heat is on her in a painful way. Every time I readjust my grip of her lush body, she moans.
It is highly distracting.
I pad toward the hollowed-out root system of a gargantuan pine, clearing away the sharp rocks with a sweep of my boot. Settling myself against the solid wood, I look at her, gesturing to the small space beside me.
"Bed down, female," I rumble, knowing she cannot parse the words but hoping she understands the directive.
She does not move.
She stands in the dirt, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, her teeth clicking together. Her breath clouds in front of her, and the thin fabric of her strange garment offers her absolutely no protection against the moon's elements.
A strange sartorial choice, especially since her chest is fully exposed to the elements. As I stare at her displayed breasts, so much more luscious than I thought possible, the nipples hardeninto peaks. I grit my teeth hard enough that my fangs beg to pierce my lower lip.
She is fucking delicious, everything about her designed to make me lose my mind in her body.
She lets out a whine, stomps her foot, then marches directly toward me.
I brace myself, expecting a physical assault from my frustrated captive. She cannot harm me, so it is best to let the female vent herself upon me. I might even enjoy it.
Instead, she flings her body directly into my lap.
I go completely still. My wings snap tight against my back, the blood pounding like a war drum in my ears.
