Syris devoured her mouth, his forked tongue sweeping through her cavern, tasting her, owning her. Ren melted against his wet chest, her hands clutching his slick shoulders as her brain short-circuited from the sensory overload.
But then, Syris pulled back abruptly. He wrinkled his nose, his amethyst eyes narrowing with a look of profound displeasure.
"You smell," he hissed, his lip curling slightly to reveal a hint of fang, "of him."
Ren blinked, dazed. "Excuse me?"
"The cat," Syris spat the word like a curse. "His musk is all over this... puffy shell." He plucked disdainfully at the red puffer coat. "And it is clinging to your skin. It is offensive. I cannot mate with you while you carry the scent of another male."
Syris' hands found the zipper of the coat. With a decisive zip, he pulled it down.
