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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  My heart saw the things my eyes couldn't see; Prevail
    #11
    My heart saw the things my eyes couldn't see
    The sweet curves of her flesh entice him as nothing else ever could, and when that one, simple words echoes inside his mind, his heart constricts inside his chest. “No.” It reverberates in the spaces between thoughts, causing him to draw sharply back, his gaze wide, surprised. Wounded.

    The hunger sparks deep inside his soul, but he is an honorable man. He would not take her against her will.

    But then she, blessedly, returns, a slow circle bringing her around to him once more, slumberous gaze boring into his. He blinks, the shock of his gaze giving way to heat once more, ravenous and heavy. And then her lips are upon him, bring warmth to his sensitive skin and tracing shivers along his spine. His own hungry mouth finds her once more, tracing her skin as she does his, letting her set the pace as she explores his body much the way he explores hers. The brush of lips against skin, the flicking of tongue to taste salt and sulfur and musk, the scrape of teeth against too tender skin. It is a heady combination, driving him to the brink of ruin.

    But then she is drawing away once more. Not to resist though. Her teasing, inviting grin tells him otherwise. So when she demands he come, he follows without question. Pushing through leaves and leaping nimbly across thin rivulets of lava, he follows upon her heels, excitement coursing hotly through his pulsing veins. Sending anticipation and lust ratcheting through him like barbed arrows, constant reminders of just where she is leading him.

    She finds a small cove, secluded and private with only the sea for witness, settling her swift stride only when she reaches the mouth of a small hollow in the rocky sea wall. His gaze, hot and a bit wild, settles upon hers as she looks at him imploringly. A more seductive sight, he is not sure he has ever seen. And then her lips are pressed to his and he is lost.

    With a low, hungry growl deep in his chest, he crashes into her, his happy civility giving way to a beast he did not know resided within him. He presses her backwards, further into the recesses of the cave, lips and teeth greedy as he tastes her. Moving from mouth to cheek to neck, tasting and licking, teeth eagerly nibbling and scraping as he attempts to reach every inch of flesh. He moves even further, shoulder, spine, hip, the copper of his flesh nearly melding with the russet of hers.

    But then he pauses, the last sliver of civility he posses forcing him to still. Pressing the velvet of his muzzle into the soft hollow of her hip, he whispers roughly, into her skin. “Tell me you want this.” His breathing is labored, raspy, his tone filled with rumbling desire. He has to say it aloud. To know it is real and not simply his ravenous mind playing tricks upon him. “Tell me. Because I won’t stop. Not again.”
    Fox
    #12
    the rest of the world was black and white,
    but we were in screaming color.
       The sea is tumultuous and wild, but it cannot compare to the adrenaline surging through her veins, nor the yearning and desire stirring within the pit of her belly. With her lips pressed against his, she cannot hear anything but the pounding of her own heart, the fervent breathing against hot and tender skin, the taste of him lingering long after his mouth has traveled elsewhere. 

       She is lost in the dull roar of the distant ocean and the rumbling groan rising from the depths of his throat, reverberating across her russet skin, as his tongue and teeth rake over where it fades away into a soft indigo.

      She can feel the urgency in each touch – his mouth pressing, seeking the delicate crevices of her sloping curves – still youthful, but coming into her own, just as he had. She is trembling, but with uncertainty or enthrallment she cannot say – her mind is a blur of emotion, but though she had never felt such an incredible hunger before, she does not shy away from it. 

      His lips and teeth stroke and graze across the sensitive skin of her throat, and down between the dense muscle of her chest, tasting where bone and sinew linger across the hardened line of her shoulder. Pressing her back into the shadow of the hollowed cave, she is shrouded in darkness, lit only by the pale light of the waning sun.

      She is just as enamored with him – her own lips, greedy and aching to feel the throbbing pulse of his heartbeat, gently presses kisses along his jaw line, his neck and over the slope of his neck. Her long, spiraling horns scrape across the jagged rock as her wavy, tousled tresses fall across her cheek as she entangles herself in the auburn of his wayward tresses, losing herself in the lingering scent of musk and sea breeze that lay across his skin. 

       But soon, he is insatiable, trailing along the length of her lithe and willowy form, touching the heat of his tongue against the rounded curve of her hip and along the base of her spine, stirring a hitched gasp from her throat.

      His chest is pressed against her hip, and there is a moment of silence – of baited breath, of two ragged heartbeats and a growing ache deep within her core, and imploringly, her vivid eyes seek out his own. Time seemingly comes to a halt, and she is quiet, tracing the curve of his jaw, the hollow of his cheek – the bright, longing brown eyes boring into her own. 

       His jaw touches her hip, laying perfectly along the curve of bone that lay there, and a shiver climbs the slope of her spine, spreading over her shoulders as a coy smile touches the dark indigo of her lips, though it is her mind that is speaking to him and not her words.

      I want this, and then, don’t stop – I want you.
    Prevail
    mandan & exist
    #13
    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.”
    Fox




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