In Heat - Jenlisa

Chapter 110 - Teething

Jennie drops her face into Lisa's hair, breathing in her scent.

Her hand twitches, automatically seeking the warmth between Lisa's legs, but she doesn't sink inside of her. Not yet. Not until Lisa asks for it, Jennie decides. On the night of the full moon, her darling Lisa should have everything she could want or ask for.

"I asked if you were alright," Jennie quietly says. The hand she'd laid against Lisa's neck slides lower, pressing into the curve of her back. "Are you?"

"Alright?" Lisa repeats, squirming so hard she nearly unseats herself in the process. "Um, no?"

Jennie frowns, then sucks in a breath in realization as she glances down at herself. Of course, she thinks. If the full moon heightens every physical sensation for wolves, her leathers and spandex must feel awful against Lisa's bare skin. If Jennie had any intelligence at all, she would have stripped before ever entering the water.

Unbelievable, Jennie gripes at herself. If her hunting garb is this uncomfortable on her, clinging and cold, it must be nigh-unbearable for Lisa. How could she be so callous?

"I understand," Jennie tells her, nails unintentionally digging into Lisa's back. "I feel it as well."

Lisa exhales hard. "Feel what?" she asks in this soft little voice that has Jennie grinding her teeth like an animal. Suddenly, it feels like an egregious lapse in judgment to continue clutching Lisa to herself without offering the comfort of skin-to-skin contact. She needs to remedy this immediately.

"Wet," answers Jennie, irritated with herself for allowing her desire to override her common sense.

So irritated is she, Jennie nearly misses the moan Lisa tries and fails to completely stifle against her neck.

"Jen," Lisa gasps, gulping air. "Jennie. You're wet?"

Jennie can feel her brow furrowing. "We're standing in a creek," she points out.

Lisa makes a small noise of confusion, and then barks out a laugh that seems to ring across the water as she shakes in Jennie's arms.

"No," she chokes out, "Not like that." Then, still giggling, Lisa says, "Like this, Jennie," and shamelessly grinds down into her hand.

Jennie's fingers automatically adjust to hold her, blindly feeling for where Lisa wants her most, but now that the thought's taken root, she cannot ignore it. Allowing her sweet Lisa to continue chafing against her sodden clothing would be sacrilege.

"Wait," Jennie instructs her. At Lisa's whine of complaint, she adds, "I have to take off my clothes."

Lisa muffles the damndest little sigh into her neck, this whimpering, wanting thing that sets Jennie's teeth on edge, and it requires every ounce of Jennie's remaining self-control to untangle herself from Lisa. She only steps back as far as is absolutely necessary to divest herself of her shirt and jacket, and when her leggings prove too difficult to shuck off underwater, Jennie cuts through them with her knife. Her weapons are tossed haphazardly onto the grass, and the moment she's free of all constraints, she's reaching for Lisa.

As soon as Jennie turns to her, Lisa launches herself back into her arms. She finds Jennie with such force that they slip backward a step, but it would take more than a running jump for Jennie to allow Lisa to fall. Even without the aid of runes, Jennie has strength enough to urge Lisa's legs back around her waist, to press their chests together as Lisa's mouth finds hers with a shaky exhale that has Jennie's grip tightening on her thighs.

***

"Look at me," comes Jennie's voice, lips dragging against her as Lisa chases her mouth. "Look at me, Puppy."