Got my claws in you

Chapter 54- the taste of you

(Y/N) POV:

The heat that seeps off my skin scorches, seeping through clothes, clammy and feverish as I lean against the open fridge, unconsciously tilting towards it, eyes fluttering with the relief the icy air provides; lungs shuddering with the cold I inhale. The heat's begun to mark its path through my body, threads of pulsing want curling with the bubbling need to present, to seek out my heat-mate and submit to the stronger wave of pheromones that I'd felt my biology shift towards, had identified as mine to take and mine to merge with.

An arm comes to wrap around my face, other hand; inked and familiar as it reaches for the carton of banana milk, chin rubbing against the crown of my head in habit almost, scenting as he noses at my nape before tugging me away.

"Your heat smells close." He mumbles, slowly drawing me away from the chill of the freezer, fingers brushing against the side of my waist as he steers me towards the table.

Setting full plates down before sinking down on a chair and tugging me onto him, arm curved with familiar habit as he leans forward.

"I just feel so... hot and feverish." I complain, tugging at the neck of the top, trying to get it away from the clammy heat I could feel radiate off of me, not understanding how Kookie was even able to press close to it. How he could scent so easily; thorough drags of his nose against the line of my throat to the curve of my shoulder, humming happily against skin, fingers clenching and fisting into my top to tug me closer.

"You smell like your cycle could hit at any point. So... eat up." he mumbles, dragging his mouth away from pressing open-mouthed kisses to skin, hand curling around my wrist to draw it to the utensils.

I shift back, body responding to the heavy cloud of cotton his body seeps out in thick rivulets. He doesn't need to verbalise it but we know his rut is more volatile. Could spring at any instant. That he could easily be plunged into it with one move or stronger tug of my pheromones to his.

"You? You're... teetering." I mumble, realising the heavy press of his body against mine is a cage, arms winding around me to keep me anchored and the flickering desire beginning to pulse in his eyes heavy and fuelled with carnal want. Teetering over a precipice that he plunges into when his body cages, when it tugs me against his.

But he shrugs his shoulders, leaning over to begin eating, fork stabbing at the plate with slightly more force, chewing resolutely, nose scrunching when I poke his side. Still coherent. Still able to keep it simmering at bay as he eats up.

The dangling wire between pre-rut and rut is shaky and unstable. Could snap at any moment.

Squirming before draping heavily over me, leaning into me.

"If you don't eat... you'll be all burned out. And I'm trying to be good and patient for you... so eat up." he groans against my ear when his hips shift slightly, ears perking when it makes my scent bloom in response.

My hand tightens around the fork at the weighted promise in his words, at the tick in his jaw as his eyes drift to me, hand gentle as he nudges at mine again.

"Eat up. Or I can't promise the next time you'll be sitting coherently enough for food." He coaxes; contradicting in his burning scent and gentle gestures.

I nod, the movement shaky, as I turn to the food, try to eat as much as I can, stomach twisting into knots at the simmering embers beginning to flare, low in my gut. Hand curling around the glass, drawing heavy gulps of cold water and feeling the weight of his arm pinning me as he eats; making a more sizable dent in the food. The water spills past my lips when his restless shifting has his ears drooping and brushing against my face, groan low and pooled with arousal; hardness pressing against my hips.