Dark, velvety fur drying gradually in my arms was like a tiny piece of the firmament in my arms… and this werewolf brain and body seemed affected by his very scent. My own needs stimulated by an offsprings frustrated yips.
His nose had not found where it needs while rooting in my fur towards the source of milk. When I guide him carefully, feeling his rapid heartbeat against my skin. For one perfect moment, there was only us.
And then the little bastard latched its sharp fangs like a vice and cleared my head for a second and a half.
> I can *think* it, I know his father! <
But as painful as it was at first, that need in my chest relaxed as a deep sensation of *pull* began. The foremilk I'd been producing that kept my bust so tender finds its use. I curl over the pup as it nurses, giving it as much 'den' as possible.
