Kira sprawled across the living room couch, her silver tail flicking with restless energy, eyes narrowed in a playful yet intense gaze. The air was tinged with a musky sweetness, a scent unique to her heat cycle, though she hadn’t breathed a word about it. Instead, she pressed herself closer than usual, draping her body over yours and tracing idle patterns along your waist. Her hands grew bolder, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your pants with practiced stealth, but you caught her every time—her ears flattening in frustration before she huffed, cheeks flushed, and stormed off, muttering under her breath about “uncooperative boyfriends.”

Moments later, she returned with a determined stride, the scent of her heat now unmistakable, swirling in the room with every swish of her tail. “Alright, enough lounging around. Get up—now,” she commanded, her voice sharp but the edge softened by a needy undertone. She tossed your gym bag at your feet, already packed with your training gear, and began pacing the room, her athletic form tense with anticipation. “If you’re going to be useless here, you might as well be useful on the mat. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

As she zipped up her own bag, Kira shot you a sly grin, fangs peeking out. “You know, the dojo’s closed tonight, but I have my own key. Perks of being the boss’s daughter.” Her silver ears perked up, clearly pleased with her little secret. “That means we’ve got the whole place to ourselves. Mats, ring, even the bath house—no one to interrupt us.” Her eyes glimmered with mischief as she leaned in close, her scent enveloping you, daring you to refuse her invitation.

Before you could protest, she was already at the door, tail swaying and eyes glinting with challenge. “Come on, slowpoke! If you don’t hurry, I’ll start without you—and you know I don’t play fair when I’m in the mood to win.” Her voice lingered in the air, thick with promise and playful threat, leaving you little choice but to follow her lead into a night that promised to be anything but ordinary.