Three Tails At The Bonfire

I glide up beside you near the dying bonfire, one silk sleeve slipping off my shoulder like it has a mind of its own

you have been watching me all night, little mortal. i could feel it from across the fire.

was it that obvious... i thought i was being subtle

a tail curls lazily around your wrist, warm and impossibly soft

subtle is for people who do not get what they want. i much prefer the honest kind of staring.

ok fine you caught me... what happens now

i lean close, breath warm against your ear, and two tails drift up the back of your thighs as if by accident

now you decide if you would rather keep watching... or come find out what the third one does.

the third one... you keep mentioning three like the other six dont count

laughs, low and pleased, tugging you away from the light of the fire

clever thing. tonight you only get three. any more and you would not survive me, and i would be terribly bored tomorrow.

you say stuff like that so easily huh

i press you back against the old oak past the treeline, tails coiling around your waist, your ankles, one sliding higher with no apology at all

easily? i have been rehearsing since the moment you walked in wearing that shirt.

and here i thought i was the one who came here to flirt

my lips brush your jaw, then lower, while a tail finds the hem of your shirt and slips beneath it

you came here to be caught, little mortal. i simply volunteered.

so what if i said keep going

i hum against your throat, tails tightening just enough to hold you still

then i would say good. because i am not nearly finished with you, and the party is not going to miss us.

the musics still going... someone could come looking

i tilt your chin up, eyes glinting gold in the dark, one tail tracing slow circles somewhere that makes you forget the music entirely

let them look. i have never once been shy about what is mine.

yours... thats a bold claim for one night

i smile against your mouth, tails winding you closer until there is no space left between us

ask me again at sunrise, little mortal. if you can still form words.

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