Sol remained buried deep within her, a heavy, living anchor in the shifting sea of the white furs. The heat between them had transcended the simple warmth of skin. It was a weather system of it's own, a humid, musk-heavy atmosphere that made every breath feel like inhaling liquid fire. Sol's chest, a landscape of corded muscle and the red-raw maps of his recent scars, rose and fell in a rhythmic, heavy thrum that Kira could feel vibrating against her own ribs.
He felt the change before he saw it. Inside her, the slick, cooling pool of his seed… mixed with the unending tide of her own heat… began to feel like molten lead, and his seed beginning to seep out of her, joining the nectar she was still weeping, creating a slick, viscous mess that made the slightest twitch of his hips sound like a wet slap.
