Turf Wars
I'm pretty sure she's been sitting on our bed in dead silence for a solid two hours. She has her headphones on deliberately cranked to the maximum to drown me out. Her back's facing me but I can still feel the weight of her scowl.
She wants me to apologize. Fuck that. Two can play at this game. I reach into my pocket and fumble around for my pack of cigarettes. Years of smoking have this down to a science. Cigarette flicked into muzzle, lit with dramatic flair, pull, exhale. The scent of the smoke hits her and I see her shoulders twitch. Good.
Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here. Rabbits in general are so temperamental, anything can set her into a fit of rage or histrionics, or even both. They're beautiful, don't get me wrong--such long legs--but sometimes it feels like babysitting.
"For fuck's sake, Dani, can you go outside for once?" she snaps, throwing her headphones to the floor and whirling around to stare me dead in the eyes. Her dark hair is kept short except for long bangs, which always fall to cover her eyes when she's trying to be dramatic. I snort appreciatively. "This isn't funny, damn it, you've been so difficult lately!"
"How? I've been an angel." I say. Part of me cringes. That isn't necessarily true.
"Ever since you fell in with that--I don't even know what they are. Ever since you met them it's been like this. You're out all night, you come home, you do something stupid, and then you act like I'm completely insane for having a problem with it. You're acting like a teenager, and like I'm your mom, and you're trying to rebell. It's insane. You're insane!"
I'm not entirely sure what to say to her. I study the cigarette in my hand in silence. Maybe she's right. The Pack isn't exactly good company, even though it was necessary. She has to understand that. We don't exactly live in the nicest times, nicest area.
I stub it out in the ashtray--carefully, these things aren't cheap and I've only had half, I'm going to come back for more later--and go to sit beside her. She shifts her wide green eyes away from me. I place my hand on hers. She doesn't resist.
"Listen, Maria, you know I don't have much of a choice. This is a rough area, and in this part of town not everyone is quite so willing to accept a fox and a hare--"
"I'm a rabbit, hares are different."
"I know this. I was just saying hare because I'm pretty sure there's a fable about that somewhere."
"No, there isn't."
"Fine. There isn't. Not everyone is willing to accept a fox and a rabbit. The point stands, I mean, we're both female too, which doesn't really help."
"Nobody cares."
"Are you sure of that? Completely sure. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Because by all means, go check how well our locks work. Go check if our windows are barred. Walk down the street, go check out the bullet holes in the--"
"I get it! Just shut up! I get it, okay? I know you need to do this. I know. That isn't the fucking problem!"
I'm shocked by her outburst. She never snaps at me, not really. I just exggerate, it's hard when you live with someone, you know? I remove my hand and absentmindedly stroke my upper arm. "Then...what exactly is the problem?"
She's in tears, but they make her beautiful. I feel sick and sadistic thinking it, but when they get caught in her tan fur they sparkle like morning dew. It's beautiful.
"My problem is that you take it home with you. You didn't used to be like this. You'd listen. You'd hold me. You'd apologize and stop when you were wrong. You wouldn't take drugs in the apartment, you'd clean up, sex wasn't a 'look at me, I'm so alpha' thing like it is now."
"I can't help it, Maria, I'm out there doing business all the time, and you can't show weakness to clients."
"So I'm your client then?" she spits.
"No, you're why I have clients, you're the only precious thing I have that I really need to protect," I respond softly. She looks at me. I look at the floor. I feel her arms wrap around my neck.
"Then don't just protect me. Cherish me."
Her arms fall from my neck and I turn to kiss her. I have to try not to laugh, not cruelly, but it's always kind of awkward when I kiss her. Her little muzzle is so short, and mine so long. That's why, like now, I prefer other options. I nuzzle her collarbone and lick gently up her neck to her long ears, nibbling them gently.
She moans and moves to straddle me, give me better access. Whenever I bite a little harder her back arches, thrusting her breasts into my face. I love that she wore a low cut shirt today. I move from her ear to her breasts, punctuating the journey with a series of sharper nibbles to her neck.
I dive my nose between her breasts and shake my head like I'm worrying meat off a bone, snarling playfully. She squeals and lets go, falling to the floor.
"One sec," she says, propping herself up on her elbows like she's going to get back up and join me on the bed. I shake my head.
"Stay. Down there's fine," I say as I shrug out of my jacket. I glance to the side to admire myself in the mirror. Where she's all soft curves I'm lean and toned, scars peeking out of my soft red fur give me a harder edge I've grown to like. My dark brown hair falls over small, pert breasts. I look good.
"Are you going to stop stroking your ego and start stroking me, or should I do the dirty work?"
I glance over in concern. She's smiling. She's teasing me. I grin wickedly back. "Girl, you know my life is dirty work."
I fall to my knees--a little hard, I have to try to look like it didn't hurt--and wrestle her shirt over her head. It would have been harder if she wasn't so compliant. She's trembling for it.
I take a breast in each hand and massage them softly, the claws on my thumbs tickling her nipples. Her hands dig into the carpet and her breathing speeds up. Her hips arch off of the floor. I scoot backwards and gently lap at each breast in turn, my hand snaking under the front of her jeans. Sometimes I complain about how baggy hers are, but in times like these it does come in handy.
She delicately runs her fingers through my hair, strokes my face. Her eyes are clouded with lust for me, only for me. I trace lazy circles around her clit with the tip of my claw just so I can see her face when she gasps. My fingers slide down to play with the soft, downy-furred lips between her legs.
"I need your help, Captain Santos. This mission cannot be completed until the defenses are taken down. I need you...to remove your pants," I say to her, as stonefaced and dead serious as I can. She snickers.
"Roger that," she grins, wriggling out of her pants in a single sinuous motion. I notice she left her panties on. I nod at them and raise my eyebrows at her. She shrugs. I sigh in mock disgust.
"Fine, do all the work myself, I see how it is," I joke. I place my hands on her hips and stroke them, cup them around her ass. She relaxes. Exactly what I was waiting for. In a flash I run my claws down the sides and tug away the scraps of cloth that remain. Her eyes go wide, but she doesn't protest.
I cup my hands around her ass and raise her hips off the ground, lowering my muzzle to meet them. My cold nose brushes against her clit. I love hearing her gasp. I run my tongue from her small, tight pussy to her clit and back down, a gentle loop getting firmer with every round. Her legs tighten around my neck.
I shrug and flex my shoulder, making sure my arm is free, then gently slide two fingers inside her. It's hard to mind my claws, but practice makes perfect. I lap and suck at her clit, thrusting my fingers slowly in and out, in and out. Her legs are shaking.
I nibble on her clit lightly, curling my fingers in a come-here motion, which is precisely what I want her to do. She tightens around them, and I pick up the pace. Her hips buck against me, bruising my nose and throwing off my rhythm. Right now she cares for no other woman but herself, and I find that intoxicatingly sexy. She comes almost silently, with a whimper and not a bang. Her body relaxes and I gently lower her hips back to the floor.
"Give me a bit, and it'll be your turn," she whispers, arm flung over her eyes. I shake my head, then I realize she can't see me.
"No. Don't worry about it. This one's on me."
"Why?"
It takes me a second to answer. I have to find the words.
"Because I focus too much on you being mine, and not enough on me being yours."
The way she jumps to throw her arms around me after I say that is reward enough for all my hard work, anyway.