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Tricks Old Dogs Know

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“Snow?”

A slight moan from the lump on the bed is the only response. Bigby smiles, walking to the edge of the bed.

“Breakfast is ready,” Bigby whispers, brushing his lips against the wisps of black hair that peak out from the coverlet. The edge of the blanket creeps down until the slit of one blue eye fixes him with a disbelieving glare.

“You made breakfast?”

“Mmhmm,” Bigby hums as he retrieves the now familiar light blue robe from its hook. “And you’ll never guess what I made.”

Slowly, the corner of the cover inches down until her entire face is visible. Her brow furrow in thought as she sniffs the air. Glee lights up her blue eyes. “Omelets?”

Bigby grunts an affirmation as he deposits the fake silk on the bed.

“And they say you can’t teach old dogs new tricks,” Snow says with a sleepy smile, stretching out her lithe body beneath the sheets.

Long, slender arms extend above her head until the edge of a nail scrapes along the wooden headboard. Her ebony hair splays out on the white pillow in a cascade of waves and curls. But it’s the playful smirk playing the curves of her mouth that drives the spike of desire through his gut.

Bigby playfully growls deep in his chest, leaning over her to ensnare her delicate wrists in his grasp. The pulse beneath a thin layer of skin flutters under his palms as Bigby’s weight presses her down into the mattress. Her soft curves mold against his firm frame almost wrenching a groan from his hard won control. Snow’s breath stutters, snapping his attention back to her face just in time to see the blood begin to flush her cheeks.

“I’ll show you what tricks this ‘old dog’ knows,” Bigby growls, dipping down to catch her lips.

Snow‘s mouth is plush and wet against his, gently moving against his own. The sharp graze of teeth against his bottom lip sends a shudder down Bigby’s spine. The faint whiff of arousal from Snow is tantalizing enough to send a pious man to his knees and, as Bigby is forever reminding Snow, he is a wolf. His hands slide down her body until his fingertips just brush the waistband of her sleep shorts.

Small but firm hands push on his shoulders. Anxiety lancing through his lust, Bigby immediately releases his grasp on his wife to pull back and gaze down at her flushed face and kiss swollen lips. He almost heaves a sigh of relief when no hint of any dark memories clouds Snow’s expression as she looks over at the clock. Her blue eyes flicker back to his filled with regret, hopefully without catching the lingering unease in his.

Snow cards her fingers through Bigby’s hair with a sigh, seeming to sink deeper into the bed.

“We have to get the kids ready.”

“I thought one of the perks of homeschooling was that you could start whenever you wanted,” Bigby says, pointedly caressing the pale strip of skin revealed by her hitched up shirt with his fingernails.

Her red lips curl in a fond yet exasperated smile even as she squirms beneath his touch.

“You know those monsters will probably destroy the living room if they’re unsupervised.”

“That’s alright. I’ll build you another one,” Bigby replies, nuzzling into her neck. Her scent is almost overwhelmingly potent, traveling straight to his head faster than a glass of scotch. His mouth latches onto the juncture of her shoulder and neck to sink into her very taste. Snow’s voice drifts through the haze of his thoughts becoming a wordless melody in the rapture of her.

Suddenly, Bigby is on his back and Snow is sitting triumphantly on his stomach.

“No bones for bad dogs,” she says with not a small amount of sass.

“Then it’s a good thing I am not a dog,” Bigby replies as he rocks his hips up to unbalance her.

Snow laughs, curling her fingers in his chest hair to easily ride out the movement. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she says, grinning down at him.

Bigby growls as he quickly sits up. He feels a slight tug from his chest hair as she slides down his torso with a small squeak. Snow lands squarely on his upper thighs with her legs spread to either side.

“Is that better, Mrs. Wolf?” Bigby says as he leans forward to kiss her again.

She shifts deliciously in his lap, sending another jolt of lust through his body that short-circuits any thought of action. Her long legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Bigby groans as his hands comb through thick black curls to cradle the back of her head. Snow shoots him a feral grin just before she throws her weight to the right. The world spins as they roll across the bed and continue off into the open air beyond.

For a moment, there is a weightlessness that makes Bigby’s stomach lurch. Then the world rights itself and they fall. The breath is knocked out of his lungs in a quick explosion of air. It’s a struggle to push back the moment of instinctive panic as his next breath refuses to come. The first puff of air comes to him just as he feels Snow shaking against him. It takes another beat for the sound of her laughter to permeate through the sensory overload of the last few seconds.

Snow sits back to look down at him. The next breath is almost a gasp at the vision before him. The morning light caresses her soft, black curls and glints off her wild, wide grin. Snow is a proud, victorious huntress ready to finish off her prey. She is glorious.

Bigby slowly tilts his back, exposing more of his neck to her. For a moment, confusion crosses her expression before her eyes widen in surprise. Her grin softens into a smile as she reaches for him. Bigby’s eyes drift closed as her nails gently scratch through his scruff along his throat.

Snow shifts forward until her body is once more pressed against his. Her lips sweep across his jugular so that he can hear the scrape of his bristles against her plump flesh.

“Maybe, if you behave today, we can see if Rose is able to watch the cubs this weekend,” she whispers hotly on his Adam’s apple.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Bigby says, opening his eyes as she shifts to lean back once more.

He leans up to bestow one last kiss gently on her nose.

Snow laughs, batting him away. “Now, go defend my breakfast from those monsters while I brush my teeth,” she says, climbing to her feet. Snow reaches a hand down to help him up.

“Yes, dear.”