*
Faith stands naked before the mirror, unsure of what she's
looking for.
She likes the newer, harder muscle.
The scars are small, and white.
And her hands are hard, callused things, and somehow there are
still traces of the cheap black polish she'd stolen back in Boston
on her nails. Only bits and chips, to be sure, but there.
She has thought of picking up some new polish, redoing them, but
it feels kinda... something. Not wrong or anything, just not
particularly right. There's something about being here, in this place,
that makes her want to peel down to nothing at all. She hasn't worn
makeup in weeks.
Faith wonders if she can get away with nudity, like Oz.
He's sitting calmly on her bed, watching her. The teeth... they almost
always make him look hungry. And even after what they just did,
Faith can't help but react. Runs a hand down between her breasts.
Watches him, watching her.
What they just did. And that makes her... it makes her wanna laugh,
and blush, and do it and do it until she can say it in her mind. Her
mouth has no problem. "Wanna fuck again, Oz?"
And he can't quite smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Gimme
a few minutes."
"Sally."
"Possibly... come here."
And she hesitates even while she moves up to kneel behind him, brush
her nipples against the soft fur of his upper back. Fur. And his
voice... it's pure angry sex and it's confusing because he only leans
back against her, rests his head on her shoulder.
Oz is no animal. And it's so funny it makes her wanna cry.
"Faith..." Soft growl, sweet and low and it gathers in her belly. She
can feel herself getting wetter, feels that weird mix of pride and
embarrassment -- her thighs will be wet. And he'll know, he'll be
able to feel how hot she is, how ready.
Oz shifts, turns until they're kneeling face to face, one thigh sly
and ticklish between her own.
He's very short, and he's not... Faith doesn't know how many times
she's stopped whatever she was doing just to trace the tortured
lines of his face. It's almost... it's not apelike but it seems like
it
should be. As though the bones of his face were stuck trying to
push into... well, probably into a muzzle.
But his skin is so soft, and the hair... the *fur*. Tickle scratch and
softest brush. Like nothing else, not velvet, not silk or satin or
hair. It's fur.
"I love your scent, Faith." Nuzzled up against her cheek, long, deep
inhales.
"Then why don't you roll around in it for a while?"
And yes, *now* the look in his eyes is an exact complement to the one
in his teeth. Wanna eat you up, little girl. Little bad wolf nudging
her
gently down to this bed that's now hers because he killed the girl
it
should've belonged to. And it's almost obscene for a moment, like she's
maybe paying for this.
Giving it up for the creature who gave her this place, this touch this
lightest brush of teeth against her nipples, making her arch.
And that's gotta be OK, somehow, and Faith digs her fingers deep into
Oz's fur and it's just one more good thing, soft and thick against
her
palms as she pulls him closer, makes him draw a little blood and *then*
he stiffens for one shameful oh-no-my-fuck's-leaving moment before
growling.
Loud, too loud for this not-empty house and Xander's on the other
side of the curtain and Willow's at the magic shop with Giles and
Ethan could be anywhere at all and it's like, some pure clean moment
of illicit heterosexuality and when he licks and gnaws and sucks at
the
wound Faith laughs and humps up onto Oz's thigh.
Belly to darkly fascinating cock. Peeking out of a velvet sheath, slick
and red and hard. Drooling all over her again as Oz finally pulls off.
The edges of the original cut are ragged now, the whole area is
scraped raw and Oz... oh, Oz. So *hard* above her and Faith grabs at
the long, long fur of his chest and yanks and they roll off the bed.
Hit
the floor with a bruising thump that makes Faith grunt but she *needs*
this.
Just like this, legs on Oz's shoulders, wide open and so wet and Faith
curls up on her elbows so she can watch, just a little.
Abs tortured but not screaming yet and Oz's smooth thick rod of a
cock.
Oz's eyes, focused utterly on her so she has to lay back. Smile, it's
all right. It's all right, baby, you're not the first and you won't
be the
last so just give it to me.
You can pretend it's Xander if you want, I won't tell a soul and he
thrusts in, one long stroke that slams that back wall and yeah, yeah,
she
can get off later just do *that*.
"Oh, fuck, *Oz*... deep and hard and fast and ahhhh --"
He complies without a word, looping one arm around her leg, and
pressing back and in in in and each pound vibes up through her and
she
can't keep quiet now, doesn't bother trying and maybe Ethan's jerking
off and maybe Xander is pretending it just isn't happening and
Willow... maybe Willow wants this from *her* and yeah, all of a sudden,
she *loves* her scent, too. Loves everything, wants it all.
Wants to swallow her own little yells and dig bloody furrows into Oz's
back and yeah yeah, does it and that makes Oz take her faster, harder
and Faith is shaking her head and chewing on her own hair. Locking
on
and stilling herself and lets Oz just go and go and all of a sudden
he
fucking *barks*.
Desperate sounding and it's so sick, so *damned* sick and the barks
continue, low things that could be yes, or more, or anything at all,
thrust after thrust and when he comes he does it with a howl that
makes every muscle in Faith's body contract and hold until she shivers
it out.
And oh fuck she *aches*, hears herself whimpering and just does not
care but it's OK, OK, Oz going down and diving right in. And his tongue
feels like a mobile and not-as-small-it-should-be cock and she screws
herself right down on it and of *fuck* her clit is hitting that ridged
up face *just* right and
"*Yes*!"
Orgasm hitting her in dark, thick waves that make her jerk like a
landed fish and she can feel her tits bouncing and oh so *good*.
They stick together and roll and Faith's laughing again and so is Oz
and she already knows this is his favorite part. Touches him all over
and rubs and tugs at the fur and lets him nuzzle his grunts and
yesses and strange purrs into her skin. Petting him with her whole
body.
Sharing scent with her... her *brother* in this. Deeper than blood,
better than innocence and so *good* to tangle up like this for just
a
few minutes or hours. Maybe nothing but the two of them right now.
Sweeter than love.
End.