okay. teach me.
a tail curls slowly around your wrist, warm and impossibly soft
Lesson one, little mortal: never look at all nine at once. Pick three. I'll even be generous and let you choose which.fine. the ones by my knees.
she laughs, low and pleased, and the chosen three slide up over your thighs like they've been waiting for permission
Bold choice. Those are the greedy ones. They don't like to stop once they start.then stop them.
one tail traces the seam of your shirt while the other two press flat and firm against your legs, pinning you to the bark
Now why would I do that? You asked for a lesson. I'm a very thorough teacher.you said control.
she leans in, breath warm against your ear, one tail slipping just under the hem of your shirt
I said your
control. Mine's been in perfect order all evening, sweet thing. Yours is currently trembling.had a long day. not my fault.
the three tails slow to a lazy, maddening rhythm, and she tilts your chin up with one fingertip
Then we'll go slow. One breath at a time. You keep your hands still and I keep my promise... mostly.mostly is doing a lot of work there.
a tail flicks the collar of your shirt open, feather-light, as if it happened by accident
Mostly is the most honest word in the language. Now breathe in. she waits, watching your chest rise, and her smile turns sharp
Good. Again. Don't you dare stop.
