The weekend had slipped by in a haze of lazy intimacy with Miko—stolen kisses in the kitchen, her tail teasing me under the covers, and whispers that made my face burn with her playful embarrassments. But Monday rolled around like an unwelcome alarm, pulling me back to campus and the grind of classes. As I packed my bag, Miko lounged on the bed, her golden eyes watching me with a possessive glint. "Don't let that Elena girl get too close," she teased, her tail flicking to brush my arm. "Or I'll have to mark my territory more... thoroughly."
I laughed, leaning down for a quick kiss that turned lingering, her rough tongue sending sparks through me. "No worries. It's just class." But her words lingered as I headed out, the old house's door creaking shut behind me.
Genetics lecture was the usual—Professor Harlan droning about mutations and ethics, the scratch of pens on paper filling the room. Elena slid into the seat next to me midway through, her auburn hair catching the light, a stack of notes in hand. "Hey," she whispered, her green eyes bright. "Missed you in the lab Friday. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, just busy," I replied, keeping my voice low. Her perfume—floral and light—wafted over, a stark contrast to Miko's wild musk that still clung to my thoughts.
After class, she didn't let me escape easily. "Study group tonight? A few of us are hitting the library—genetics review for the midterm. You in? Could use your brainpower." Her smile was inviting, her hand brushing my arm lightly as she adjusted her bag. It was casual, but the flirtation was there, her freckles standing out as she tilted her head hopefully.
I hesitated—Miko's jealousy from before flashed in my mind—but it was just studying, right? Harmless group thing. "Sure, why not? What time?"
"Seven. Meet at the main entrance?" Her eyes lit up, and she squeezed my arm before waving goodbye. As I walked to my next class, a twinge of guilt hit, but I shook it off. Miko would understand... probably.
The day dragged, texts from Miko keeping me grounded: "Miss your hands on my ears. Hurry home? 🐾" I replied with a promise to be back late, mentioning the study group vaguely. Her response was a simple "Okay... but don't forget who's waiting." The ellipsis felt loaded.
By evening, the library was a hive of focused energy—fluorescent lights buzzing, the scent of old books and coffee thick in the air. Elena and a couple others—two guys from class, Mark and Theo—claimed a table in a quiet corner. We dove into notes, debating gene splicing and ethics, Elena's laugh ringing out at my jokes, her knee bumping mine under the table more than once. "You're brilliant at this," she said at one point, her hand lingering on my notebook as she pointed out a diagram. The group dynamic kept it innocent, but her crush was palpable.
Hours ticked by, productive but draining. As we wrapped up around nine, Elena walked me to the door. "Thanks for coming. We should do this more—maybe just us next time?" Her voice was soft, hopeful, the night air cool against my skin.
I nodded noncommittally. "Yeah, maybe." But as I headed home, her words echoed, stirring that guilt again.
The house was dimly lit when I arrived, Miko on the couch with a book, her tail lashing slowly—a sign of agitation. "Study group, huh?" she said without looking up, her ears twitching as I dropped my bag. "With Elena?"
I sat beside her, hand on her knee. "Yeah, and a couple guys. Nothing exciting."
She set the book down, golden eyes narrowing. "She invited you specifically, didn't she? I can smell her on you—that flowery crap." Her nose wrinkled, and she leaned in, sniffing my shirt before nipping at my collarbone possessively. "Mine."
Jealousy flared in her tone, but it was laced with heat. Before I could respond, she straddled my lap, her tail coiling around my waist like a belt, pulling me flush against her. "Let me remind you." Her claws grazed my chest through my shirt, light but insistent, as she ground down, her heat pressing against my hardening length.
"You're jealous," I teased, hands sliding under her tee to stroke her furred back, feeling her arch into me with a purr.
"Damn right." She tugged my shirt off, her rough tongue licking a hot trail down my neck, nipping harder this time—enough to sting sweetly. Her tail tightened, the fur tickling my sides as she rocked her hips, friction building through our clothes. "She can't make you feel like this." One hand dipped lower, stroking me through my pants with firm squeezes, her claws retracted but the threat teasing.
I groaned, flipping her onto her back on the couch, pinning her wrists above her head. "No one can." My free hand found her ears, rubbing the bases in slow circles that made her moan, her tail thrashing wildly, brushing my thighs in erratic teases. She bucked up, legs wrapping around me, her scent—musky and aroused—filling the air.
We teased each other mercilessly: her tail dipping under my waistband to curl around my base, stroking with soft fur that drove me wild; me nipping her ears until she whimpered, her claws scratching light patterns on my arms. "Blush for me," she whispered, her voice husky, as she ground against my hand when I slipped it into her shorts, fingers circling her slick clit. "Admit you thought of me the whole time."
My face heated—damn her—as I thrust my fingers inside her, curling to hit that spot, her walls clenching hot and wet. "Always," I admitted, and her possessive purr turned triumphant, the jealousy fueling a fierce, claiming rhythm.
We edged closer to the brink, bodies slick and trembling, but pulled back, breathless. "You're mine," she murmured, curling against me in the afterglow, tail draped possessively. But as sleep beckoned, her earlier words hung—Elena's invitation, the subtle drama. What if jealousy sparked more than spice?