This involves sidelong descriptions of really rough sex.
“That… was different. He was different.”
Cya had come home scraped, bruised, and smiling, wearing different clothing than she’d left in, leaning on Leofric as if she might actually need the support. The smile was a particularly lazy, pleased version of her sated expression.
Carew knew her sated expression. He’d put it on her face more than a few times — especially in the last few weeks. Not like that, though, and not with bruises like that, either.
She’d handed him a pile of clothing, her expression turning slightly-abashed. While she’d dished out the casserole she had waiting — because she was Cya, and she almost always had something waiting — Carew had unfolded the clothing.
Every single piece was cut, like it had been sliced off of her.
No question why she’d given him the clothes, then. Carew wiggled his nose and the clothing came back together. If being a mechanic didn’t work out, he thought, not for the first time, he had a good future as a house-elf.
After that… after that he’d been looking at his Keeper’s bruises with a combination of jealousy and wistfulness. He wanted to have put that expression on her face. He wanted someone to put marks like that on him. Even at her roughest, Cya never marked him thatmuch.
“Leo,” Cya had said with cheerfully sharp edges, “you probably shouldn’t tease my Kept if you’re not willing to bruise him all up, too.”
He hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t been expecting Leo’s expression, the one that made Carew wonder for a moment exactly which one of them had the predator Change and which had the prey Change.
Hard to miss those antlers, though. Hard not to think of what those antlers could do to you.
Now… now he was having other thoughts about predators and prey. He sprawled across the bed, pressing his knee gently to Cya so he could stay in contact with her. He was bruised, scraped, aching, and absolutely sated. “That was…” he repeated, but he had no words for what it was.
“Autumn,” Cya filled in, in a voice that sounded like he felt. She’d watched. She’d watched the whole thing, and Carew’d had absolutely no doubt she was loving every minute. “That was autumn and Leo. Buck,” she added, as if somehow Carew had missed that. “But I wouldn’t mention that part to him. I don’t think he likes it.”
Carew considered that for a moment. “He looked like he was having fun?” he offered cautiously.
“He did, didn’t he? Mmm. Don’t proposition him on your own.”
He already had fidelity orders. He was also not suicidal. “Yes, ma’am.”
“But if you liked it—”
“-then I’ll see if he wants to have another round before autumn’s over.” She considered things thoughtfully. “Not for a couple days, though.”
Carew stretched, feeling every bruise and scrape. “Not for a couple days,” he agreed.
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