𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗩𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 (𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚡𝙱)

Track 70 | 𝗕𝗶𝗼𝗵𝗮𝘇𝗮𝗿𝗱

Explicit NSFW Content Warning

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"Unh... Ari..."

Harvey's mouth is right up against my ear, yet I can barely make out a single word he's saying. Part of it is thanks to his sluggish mumbling; the rest, I suspect, is due to the fact that my hearing has gotten significantly worse overnight.

"Harv..." I croak into a patch of sweaty auburn fur, caught between the messily buttoned placket of his shirt, and laced with the musty scent of last night's passion.

His arm slings around my head, my snout nestled in his bicep. I scratch at the back of my ankle with the toes of my opposing foot. The heat is unbearable, but I can't find it in me to move.

The position isn't unusual; I've woken up to him like this many times before. The unexpected part was the fact that he was still very much inside of me.

It appears we remained intact throughout the night, which is surprising, considering how restless of a sleeper Harvey is. Sometimes I wake up and he's upside down with his feet on the pillow.

"Harvey..." I groan, the collar of his dress shirt getting caught between my lips.

"Ari..." He groans back in an equally husky voice, plagued with fatigue. "Honey..."

I feel his arms cradle my back with a creeping intensity, his claws gliding over the taut fabric of my shirt. Half-asleep, he lazily massages my shoulder blades, his hand drifting beneath the fabric and trailing up my spine with an absentminded agenda.

Oh, no.

I can already feel him stiffening.

My heart pounds despite still being caught between sleep and waking. My breaths come quicker, shallow. Harvey's grip tightens around me, his hold growing firm, and a low grumble stirs in his throat. Each touch teases liberation from the suffocating tightness of my dress shirt. I'm dying to get out of it.

"Oh... Harvey..."

His resurrected member cements its place within my core. I hold it in me with gentle responsibility. Harvey's paws find my naked hips, clutching at my fuzzy curves and thumbing my loins; his usual hand placement when pulling me against him. 

His lap begins to slowly cycle through familiar motions, clueing me in on what's to come. I try my best to work off of what he's giving me, but my muscles ache with exhaustion. I give in, squeezing my eyes shut and letting Harvey's sloppy rhythm jumpstart my hips into motion.

We mindlessly thrust together. It's become natural to us at this point; we don't even have to be fully conscious in order to relish and submit to one another. Our love has become something instinctual; a force taking possession of our bodies before our minds can catch up, influencing insentient copulation. 

We fuck without thinking. Our hips mince and grind like two cogs in a working machine. It's slow-moving and laborious, but so standardly routine. We could be doing this in our sleep.

I don't feel the need to open my eyes; I know he's taking good care of me. His arms coil around me like a child clinging to their mother, pained whimpers escaping his clenched teeth. His paw slides around my skull, settling on my forehead with a grip so firm it pries open my left eyelid.

My head is so foggy. I don't even know what time it is. Is it morning or late in the afternoon? I don't care. Keep fucking me, Harvey. I could do this all day.