Not Really

What had started out as a heat fueled roll in the hay, risking a litter with an old high school friend seemed to have taken a very serious turn. Some Tom's did become attached and possessive of their female, their queen, and it seemed that Peter may be one of those males. "I'm not sure I'm ready to commit that deeply Peter," you say with a little fear hoping he'll reconsider, that he's just speaking from his orgasmic pleasure.

You get your answer when he nibbles on your ear, purring away. "I'd never **** you Tabs," There was a teasing quality to his voice as he whispered in your ear. "We'll fuck all week, get you good and properly bred, then if you want to be collared I'll claim you, but not till then, and only if you ask me to." He kissed you, standing a little. "I'm told this part might be a little uncomfortable."

You knew he meant pulling free, his barbs would rake your insides, triggering ovulation. You nodded, and braced as Peter pulled free. A mewl of pleasure and pain escaped your lips as he pulled free, triggering your ovulation response. He tenderly nuzzles and kisses you, reminding you he's there and cares for you, that he loves you. Laying there, hanging off the couch, cum dripping down your thighs, you know you love him, want to have his cubs, and perhaps even let him collar you. You still want to go to college, finish your degree, but you also know that cubs may interfere with those plans, but in this moment what matters is now, this heat, this male, and being bred.