For  royz

Leo regained consciousness as the morning sun pierced through his closed eyelids. He couldn’t control the body—apparently, Alyx had kept control for herself but allowed him to come to awareness. He could see, hear, and feel everything.
As he sorted through the first sensations, he realized that he—she—was lying down, naked. She felt something soft and fluffy hugging her from behind. Her tail was draped over his bent leg, while her other leg rested on top of it—since with such a massive tail, it was hard to position oneself differently from behind.
His arms were gently wrapped around her body. The lower arm rested lightly on her belly, its paw pointed downward toward her pelvis and between her legs. The upper one crossed her chest, slipping beneath one breast, while his paw gently cupped the other—not aggressively, but tenderly, offering care and support.
His muzzle was buried in the back of her head, nose nestled into her thick hair between her laid-back ears, softly inhaling her uniquely feminine scent.
She laid one hand over his—the one that held her breast—while the other slowly traced along the surface of his thigh. She savored the feeling of closeness, serenity, and peace. In that moment, she trusted him completely.
Leo’s mind was flooded with a multitude of new, inexplicable emotions and sensations. But apparently, Alyx didn’t want—or didn’t plan—to listen to them, choosing instead to remain immersed in the presence of her old friend.
Closing her eyes, she simply listened to the sensations — his chest pressed gently against her back, giving her a sense of safety.
She had always thought of herself as a strong girl, someone who could stand her ground. But in moments like this, she just wanted to be soft and vulnerable. To give herself over completely, savoring the sensitivity of her body and letting someone else take in the fullness of her femininity.
She traced one paw slowly along the other, heightening the sensations of the moment, trying to relish every inch of her perfect form.
Lost and detached from everything happening in the outside world — from everything in her life beyond the walls of his bedroom — she wished this moment could last longer, or never end at all.
Amadeus gently moved his hand away from her chest and began softly running his fingers through her hair, occasionally brushing and scratching the base of her ear.
Alyx let out a quiet moan. Leo could’ve sworn he heard her purr — faintly, just barely — though she would never admit it.
The two of them basked in each other’s presence — two nearly immortal beings who might not have seen one another for centuries. Amadeus felt deeply grateful for the trust she still placed in him after all these years. He was glad to bring her pleasure, to feel her body shiver at his touch, the way the tremble rippled through her, delicate and vivid.
He could only imagine what it was like for her, receiving what had once been given to him. In that moment, they were the perfect match — in harmony, fulfilling needs neither would speak aloud, giving each other sensations both had long missed.
At last, she tilted her head back, allowing their foreheads to nearly touch — a gesture of the deepest trust, woven into the feline instincts that still lingered within her nature. At the same time, she exposed her neck — a sign of trust and submission among wolves.
Though Leo was sure neither of them would ever admit it, there was something undeniably primal in the intimacy of their dance — something echoing the creatures they had become.
And though both of them wished the moment could last forever, she let out a soft moan — a sound caught somewhere between pleasure and reluctant parting — and, with graceful ease, slipped from his arms and rose to her paws, wrapping around him with a lingering glance…
Leo was in shock from what he'd experienced. He didn’t know how to feel about it. Was he more shocked by what had happened — or by the fact that it resonated somewhere deep inside his soul? Somewhere he had long buried something, so deep that neither others nor he himself could reach it.
Alyx sensed his thoughts and smirked slyly. She had hoped to unsettle him when she awakened his consciousness that morning.
Amadeus remained lying in bed. He knew there was no point in trying to keep her longer — it was useless. He wanted to give her a little time to be alone, the way she always preferred. Then, maybe catch her later with a cup of morning coffee.
Though with her, he could never guess. Whether she'd decide to stay, or leave quietly without warning. He chalked it all up to feminine unpredictability.


(trying different approach, to make more less detailed illustrations for my book)

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