08-25-2017, 05:15 PM
My heart saw the things my eyes couldn't see
I want this… don’t stop. It is everything he wanted to hear. Everything and more. A low rumble escapes throat, a cross between a growl and a groan, as he scrapes his teeth roughly across the point of her hip before placing a tender kiss upon that sweet flesh. He can feel her pressed against him, the tangle of her mane, the wildness of her beating heart and quivering flesh, the hot warmth of her breath, her velvety lips. It is a combination that drives him entirely mad, drives every thought from his endorphin soaked brain.
He presses against her for a moment longer, lips ravenous against her skin, tracing every slope and angle he can find. And then he is shifting, moving, his teeth scraping, muzzle sliding along her skin as he moves behind her, over her, in her. Every thought he had gives way to instinct, to a dance as old as time itself. He is moving, they are moving, until they become one. Until they meld into a single, perfect being for one bright, endless instance in time.
And then it is over and only the sounds of their ragged breathing, the crashing of waves and the whisper of wind, echoes inside the privacy of their shallow cave. With a groan, he releases her, slipping to the ground with a soft thud before moving alongside her once more. He presses sweat-slicked flesh against hers, his lips tracing once more along the sweet slope of her back, her withers, the shimmering indigo strands curtaining her neck. He buries his muzzle in those strands, against her skin, breathing her musky, feminine scent. Breathing their combined scents, imprinted upon her flesh (not just her flesh, but his too).
He doesn’t want to let her go, not quite yet. For this time, this moment, he wishes to stay just as they are. Perfect and beautiful and complete. A slow smile tugs at his lips then, lips still pressed against her mahogany skin. He nibbles briefly at the flesh there, a gentle, affectionate gesture, fulfilled and replete. “Prevail,” he whispers softly against her, her name reverent upon his lips.
Suddenly he laughs, a soft sound in the quiet confines of the cave. “I think this is the first time I have ever been speechless.”
He presses against her for a moment longer, lips ravenous against her skin, tracing every slope and angle he can find. And then he is shifting, moving, his teeth scraping, muzzle sliding along her skin as he moves behind her, over her, in her. Every thought he had gives way to instinct, to a dance as old as time itself. He is moving, they are moving, until they become one. Until they meld into a single, perfect being for one bright, endless instance in time.
And then it is over and only the sounds of their ragged breathing, the crashing of waves and the whisper of wind, echoes inside the privacy of their shallow cave. With a groan, he releases her, slipping to the ground with a soft thud before moving alongside her once more. He presses sweat-slicked flesh against hers, his lips tracing once more along the sweet slope of her back, her withers, the shimmering indigo strands curtaining her neck. He buries his muzzle in those strands, against her skin, breathing her musky, feminine scent. Breathing their combined scents, imprinted upon her flesh (not just her flesh, but his too).
He doesn’t want to let her go, not quite yet. For this time, this moment, he wishes to stay just as they are. Perfect and beautiful and complete. A slow smile tugs at his lips then, lips still pressed against her mahogany skin. He nibbles briefly at the flesh there, a gentle, affectionate gesture, fulfilled and replete. “Prevail,” he whispers softly against her, her name reverent upon his lips.
Suddenly he laughs, a soft sound in the quiet confines of the cave. “I think this is the first time I have ever been speechless.”
Fox
