Author's Note: This drabble was a birthday present for Vixensheart and I posted it on Tumblr at that time, but I completely forgot to also post it here. As they say, it's better late than never, and I hope Vix is not upset at my forgetfulness! :-)

-=oOo=-

Claws

"Why don't you take them off?" Raven whispered, trying her utmost to ignore the ecstatic feeling of his lips gliding over her throat. Garfield didn't respond, except that his tongue flicked out unerringly over a most sensitive area, making the muscles beneath tense and ripple.

She hissed in a sharp breath as bursts of electricity flared blindingly behind tightly shut lids and scintillated in a burning flood down her spine. Her legs parted slightly as her body prepared itself eagerly to receive him. The musky scent of her heat arose, unleashing a deep purr growling through his throat. She felt its vibrations permeate her and sink in to rumble deep inside her, touching and resonating with the very core of her desire. A whimper went through her lips and her breathing quickened into gasping.

He always did that to her. Every time she asked him to take his gloves off, he would instead silently find the most sensitive place on her body – under her jaw, on her throat, beneath the soft swell of her breasts, on the inside of her thighs, somehow it was always just a kiss away from his mouth wherever it was – and he would make her head spin and flood her mind with rapture, making her forget about everything else but the warm caress of his soft lips, the playful tease of his clever tongue and the gentle graze of his fang on impossibly yearning skin.

But this time there was a difference. Tonight, his unexpected kisses had pulled her away from a long, relaxing meditation séance that filled her body, mind and soul with tranquility. She never felt him unclasp and remove her cloak, never sensed him pick her up and gently lay her on the bed, never realized her clothes were slowly peeled off her body. Her awareness of the outside world never really returned; she transitioned from deep internal introspection to the delightful sensation of his lips scorching her skin and sparking up the well-known and well-loved fire he always lit up in her so simply, easily and naturally.

And yet it also allowed her curiosity to keep its head above the rising tide of desire. Only barely so, to be sure, but enough for her to push aside the starving need for his kisses for a moment and cup his head in her hands, lifting it tenderly but indisputably up until he met her gaze.

The feral gleam faded from his eyes and they became again the eyes of a boy; clear, shy and apprehensive. He looked away.

She sighed and pulled him into a kiss. She of all people should know what it meant to keep secrets from others. He would do it when he was ready. But she couldn't avoid feeling a little –

He pushed himself up and knelt on the bed beside her, wrenching out a needy, frustrated whine from her throat. He watched her for a few moments, his eyes now dark and deep. He lifted his gloved hands, glanced at them and looked at her again.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Her mouth opened slightly but her throat closed, shearing off any words. Her hand wanted to rise and stop him, but it couldn't.

Without either hurry or hesitation he removed the gloves and again lifted his hands, as if to show them to her, but she couldn't pry her gaze away from his eyes. She was aware of the image in her peripheral vision, a blurry sight of long fingers and coarse fur curling on the back of his hands, growing shorter and softer as it approached his wrist to turn seamlessly into the velvety fuzz that climbed up his forearm. Sharp talons slid partially out and trembled, caught in the crossfire between his instinctive defensive reaction and the rational desire to keep them sheathed.

Raven's mouth was dry and her throat clamped so tight the breath could barely wheeze through it. She didn't have to be an empath to see the expression of hope, love and absolute trust in his eyes, and it twisted a burning dagger in her heart.

She gasped softly as the sweet pain broke the spell and allowed her to look down at his hands. She grasped them gently in her own and pulled one of them to her face, kissing the fingers and the palm and placing it on her cheek. Her eyes closed and she leaned into it, rubbing against the soft texture of the skin and the sharp brush of the talons. His other hand was also pulled into a kiss and then pressed gently but undeniably on her breast, her fingers curling and urging it over the pliant flesh, her wish unmistakable.

Her eyelids parted open, heavy with moisture. She gazed at him, breathing raggedly, then tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down into a long kiss.