The morning light filtered through the curtains like a soft haze, casting golden patterns across the tangled sheets where Miko and I lay entwined. My body ached in the best way—muscles sore from last night's intensity, faint scratches on my back tingling like badges of passion. Her purring was a constant, soothing rumble against my chest, her head nestled under my chin, one fluffy ear twitching occasionally in her sleep. Her tail draped lazily over my hip, the soft fur brushing my skin with every subtle shift, a reminder of how it had wrapped around me so possessively hours ago.
I stirred first, my hand instinctively stroking down her back, fingers tracing the velvety fur along her spine. She murmured something incoherent, stretching against me with a contented sigh, her body pressing closer—her pert breasts against my side, her leg hooking over mine. "Mmm, morning already?" she whispered, her golden eyes fluttering open, pupils still dilated from lingering dreams. She nuzzled my neck, her rough tongue darting out for a quick, teasing lick that sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"Yeah," I replied, voice husky from sleep and the immediate stir of arousal. "How're you feeling?"
She propped herself up on an elbow, her tail flicking playfully to brush against my thigh, the tip curling just enough to tease the sensitive skin there. "Sore. Satisfied. And hungry—for breakfast and more." Her grin was wicked, sharp canines flashing as she leaned in, her breath warm on my ear. "Last night... you were like a beast. Made me yowl like I'd never stop. Blushing yet?"
Heat crept up my cheeks—damn, she was good at that. "Maybe a little," I admitted, trying to play it cool, but her tail dipped lower, the fur whispering against my growing hardness under the sheets, making me shift uncomfortably.
She laughed, a low, purring chuckle that vibrated through us. "A little? Your face is red as a tomato. Admit it—you loved when I scratched you, didn't you? Those little marks... I can kiss them better." Before I could respond, she rolled on top of me, straddling my waist, her tail swishing to coil around my leg again, pulling it aside teasingly. Her hands found my ears—not feline like hers, but she pinched them lightly anyway, tugging with a mischievous glint. "See? Ear play isn't just for me. Though yours don't twitch like mine do when you touch them."
I groaned, half-laughing, half-aroused, my hands gripping her hips as she ground down subtly, the heat between her legs pressing against me through the thin sheet. "You're impossible," I muttered, but I retaliated by reaching up, fingers gently massaging the base of her ears—soft, warm, and oh-so-sensitive. She melted instantly, eyes half-closing, a soft moan escaping as her tail tightened its grip, the fur tickling my inner thigh in a way that made my pulse race.
"Cheater," she breathed, but she leaned into my touch, her purring intensifying. We stayed like that for a lazy while—her teasing me with tail flicks and embarrassing whispers ("Remember how you groaned my name? So needy..."), me making her squirm with ear strokes and light scratches along her fur. It was intimate, playful, the air thick with the scent of our mingled musk from last night, but we didn't push further, savoring the afterglow.
Eventually, hunger won out. We disentangled, throwing on minimal clothes—me in boxers, her in that oversized tee—and padded downstairs. Breakfast was a flirty affair: I flipped pancakes while she perched on the counter, tail swishing to "help" by batting at the spatula, her legs dangling to brush mine. "Oops," she said innocently when her tail curled around my waist from behind, pulling me back against her as I poured batter. "Clumsy me. Or maybe I just want to feel how hard you get when I do this." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her breath hot on my neck, and sure enough, my face flushed again as she nipped my earlobe.
"You're doing this on purpose," I accused, turning to face her, trapping her against the counter. My hands found her ears again, rubbing circles that made her knees weaken, her tail thrashing in delight.
"Guilty," she admitted with a giggle, but her eyes softened. We ate at the table, syrup dripping messily as she fed me bites, her tail sneaking under the table to tease my foot. The lazy day unfolded from there—lounging on the couch with a movie, her curled in my lap, discussing last night between kisses. "It felt... right," she said quietly during a quiet scene, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. "Not just the heat, but us. You make me feel safe. Wanted."
I held her closer, kissing her forehead. "You are. More than you know." We opened up a bit—me sharing stresses from classes, her admitting the labs still haunted her dreams. "Last night, before we... I had a flash. Needles, cages. But you chased it away." It was subtle, but the hint of vulnerability lingered, her ears flattening briefly before she shook it off with a tease: "Now, tell me—did I make you blush more than Elena ever could?"
The day blurred into intimate teases: her tail dipping under my waistband during a nap attempt, her whispering embarrassing play-by-plays of our night while "innocently" stroking my arm. By evening, the air hummed with renewed tension, her golden eyes promising more. But as we drifted toward sleep, her words echoed—a subtle shadow of her past creeping in. What if those nightmares weren't just dreams?