Maris
The elders are right. I am a heathen.
Not for the reasons they think, to be clear. I am not a witch. I do not consort with the devil, and if I could curse anyone, I would have done so long ago. Oh, the curses I would have cast on people. They should count themselves lucky I’m not able to work magic.
With that being said… I am willing to concede that there are some strange things about me. Like my affection for the wolf monster, for instance.
To be clear, I am NOT lusting over the giant furry monster. I am, however, taking it into consideration. Who wouldn’t in my situation?
She is kind, and seems more than happy to provide me with anything I could ever desire, which is more than any human—man or woman—has ever offered me.
She is happy to listen to me speak, never once interrupting, her ears always tipped toward me to show that I have her full attention.
She’s strong, but she’s never made a move to hurt me, and always takes care not to injure me with her claws.
She is also at least slightly human under all that fur, or should I say in it?
. So while I may be slightly deviant, I am not bestial. Small mercies.
All that being said—should the wolf monster and I spend much more time together—sacrifices may have to be made. And I’m more than happy to make them.
“Come,” she says suddenly, and I choke on my water so hard I cough, then burp, cheeks flaming.
“I’m sorry?” My cheeks redden as I wipe the water from my bottom lip and neck where it trickled down.
If the wolf monster can read my thoughts, uncouth and otherwise, I am well and truly screwed. And not in the way I was just considering.
“Bed,” she says cheerfully. Her claws click on the stone floor as she pads across the cave, leading me toward a dark pile in the corner. A bed or nest of some sort, piled high with furs, scraps of cloth, anything soft.
It’s the same one I’ve been sleeping in, but this is the first time that she has ever laid next to me.
In the past, it was always been at the foot of the bed.
She crawls under one of the furs, then pokes her head back out to wait for me, ears pricked.
It’s obscenely adorable, and my cheeks burn once more as I hesitantly rise and head toward her.
There’s only one bed… nest… thing. It’s completely fine for us to share. It doesn’t mean anything, even if my thoughts did stray into an area that would have gotten me burnt at the stake in my village. She doesn’t need to know that.
And besides, we’re heading into winter. She has fur; I do not. Without sharing body heat, I will likely freeze, and that will help no one.
That’s what I tell myself as I slide in next to her. Let me have this one indulgence.
The first few nights, I lie rigid as a board beside her, hyperaware of every breath, every small movement.
Gray seems unbothered by my tension, occasionally shifting to ensure I'm warm enough, her tail sometimes brushing against my leg in what I hope is sleep rather than deliberate torment of my already frayed nerves.
By the fourth night, exhaustion wins over propriety, and I find myself relaxing into the surprising comfort of her presence.
She radiates warmth like a living fire, and despite everything the elders taught me about the dangers of monsters, I've never felt safer.
When I wake on the fifth morning with my hand buried in the soft fur of her chest, her arm curved protectively around me, I don't immediately pull away.
"Good?" she asks, those ever watchful mismatched eyes studying my face with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter.
"Good," I manage, though my voice comes out smaller than intended.
It becomes a routine after that. We share meals, she listens to my rambling stories about village life with rapt attention, and when darkness falls, we curl together in her nest. I tell myself it's practical, necessary for survival, but I'm a terrible liar even to myself.
The shift happens gradually, then all at once.
Gray begins offering me small gifts – interesting stones, wildflowers that somehow still bloom despite the approaching winter, a particularly soft piece of fabric she's found somewhere.
When I thank her, she makes a rumbling sound deep in her chest that I realize is purring.
The first time she deliberately nuzzled into my palm when I pet her fur, my heart nearly stops.
"Maris," she says one evening, and hearing my name in her deep, careful voice sends warmth pooling in places I try very hard not to think about. "Beautiful."
I laugh, a sound somewhere between hysteria and genuine mirth. "I'm covered in dirt and wearing the same dress I've had on for weeks. I'm many things, but beautiful isn't one of them."
She tilts her massive head, studying me with that unnerving intensity again. "Beautiful," she repeats firmly, as if my protests are irrelevant to the truth she sees.
That night, when she pulls me closer in sleep, I don't pretend it's just for warmth.
When I wake with my face pressed against her neck, breathing in her scent of pine and something wilder, I don't immediately move away.
And when her claws very gently stroke through my hair, I let myself lean into the touch.
"Gray?" I whisper into the darkness.
"Yes?"
The question I want to ask gets stuck in my throat. Instead, I press my lips to the soft fur at her throat – barely a kiss, more like a breath against her skin. She goes very still beneath me.
"Maris," she says, and there's something different in her voice, rougher. "Want?"
Do I want? The question should terrify me. By all rights, I should be planning my escape, not considering... this. Whatever this is. But her claws are tracing gentle patterns on my back, and she's looking at me like I'm something precious, something worth protecting rather than conquering.
"I don't know," I admit. "I've never... you know, with anyone. And certainly never with..." I gesture vaguely at her form.
"Slow," she promises, and the careful way she says it makes me think she understands more than she usually lets on. "Only what you want."
When she very slowly, very carefully cups my face in one massive paw, I don't pull away.
When she leans down to press her forehead against mine, I close my eyes and try to steady my racing heart.
And when she starts trailing gentle kisses down my throat, her tongue warm and surprisingly soft against my skin, I finally admit to myself what I've been trying to ignore.
I want this.
I want her.
"Gray," I breathe, and her ears prick forward at the change in my tone. "I... yes. But slowly. Please."
Her rumbling purr vibrates through her chest and into mine as she continues her careful exploration, moving lower with infinite patience. When her claws catch the hem of my skirt, she pauses, looking up at me with those colorful eyes.
She doesn’t pull on my skirts, although I know she could. She could do anything she likes, but she’s asking, begging, to taste me.
And gods help me, I want to let her.
Is it loneliness? Or is this simply the first time that I’ve ever felt love from another person, seen the adoration in their eyes, and felt safe enough to be vulnerable. I squeeze my thighs together with a gulp, then nod slowly.
Gray’s ears prick, and I feel her tail slap my leg as it wags, her massive body sinking down my legs as she lowers herself.
“Carefully,” she rumbles out.
She slows as her claws grip my skirts, pulling them up, but there’s no pain, just the warmth of her tongue working its way oh so slowly up my thighs.
Each slow swipe of her tongue across my skin sends shivers up my spine and goose bumps racing across my skin. I shudder out a breath as she inches closer, the anticipation building within me.
“Please,” I whisper, not knowing if I’m begging her to take things slower or speed them up.
I’ve never experienced such a rush of feelings all at once in my life.
My legs shake as she reaches the juncture of my thighs.
Her soft exhale blows across the sensitive flesh with a pleasant cooling sensation to my overheated flesh.
I gasp, my reaction echoing through the cave, as her tongue enters me, warm and slick. It’s all I can do not to buck against the sudden pleasure as I squeeze my eyes shut, stars flaring behind my eyelids. Her tongue delves deeper as if she can reach my soul.
My core tightens with each thrust of her tongue, the rough texture touching places within me that leave my body shaking, panting, and wanting more. The world could come to an end right now and I wouldn’t notice.
My fingers clench in her fur so tightly it must be painful, but she holds me just as firmly as I rock against her, desperately searching for friction.
I bite my lip, trying to muffle the moans. I’ve been too shy my whole life. How does one hold themselves so proper their whole life only to come completely undone in a moment like this.
Gray does something with her tongue that makes my toes curl and a moan slips free. She growls in appreciation as she continues her exploration. Tongue only, no claws, but it’s more than enough, more than I’ve ever experienced in my life.
I cry out as her tongue slips from me and rasps against the sensitive bud of my clit. If I thought I saw stars before, that was nothing. My back arches, eyes shut, and mouth open as a long moan escapes, filling every available space within the cave.
Sweet relief floods me, fills me, overflows. My whole body shakes as my release overtakes me. I collapse into a heap, unable to move.
Her whine is lower this time, almost a growl, as she laps up every bit of my release, holding me in place as she cleans away every bit of my orgasm, then works her way down my thighs. I tug lightly on her fur, shaking.
“No more,” I murmur. “I need a break.”
I’m suddenly exhausted, wrung out from the pleasure she wrought, but that isn’t fair. I blink away the stars and the exhaustion, sitting up to face her.
“I’m happy to… help you too. It’s only fair.”
Her tongue lolls, and again she does that strange, closed mouth kiss on my forehead, the hair of her muzzle brushing my skin.
“Happy,” she agrees. Either she doesn’t understand what I’m saying or she doesn’t need me to reciprocate, because she simply snuggles closer, wrapping her furry arms around me, and rests her head on my chest. Her ears twitch occasionally, listening to my heartbeat, but it’s easy enough for me to fall asleep in her arms.
After all, this is the safest I’ve ever felt.