• Logout
  • Beqanna

    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]  I've been through the desert on a horse with no name [Maugrim]
    #11
    Deathwish
    im a DIY pioneer, they tryna get involved

    The darkness came, and with it came a hunger that she knew would only be sated from the heady scent he carried with him. The esctacy of not knowing. The drug of being wanted... It soaked into her veins and brought her to life. And when it started to rain, she felt Maugrim's lust as it pressed against her thighs, urging them apart. His erection was palpable, strong, and wanting. And she knew it wanted her.

    His mouth never left her body, dragging his teeth and lips across her hips and backside, pulling her into himself, heating her from the inside, their bodies wet with sweat and rain as it pelted down upon them, heightening their senses until they collided. The thunder claps overhead, and the dark purple clouds continue to cry their lustful tears as they look down upon them. She gasped, her senses on fire, trembling with need.

    She needed his erection to fill her. She needed him to give her his pain. His anger. She wanted to take it all and wear his bruises like badges. She would hate herself in the morning, but as the sun set and it was just the two of them here in the dark, and in the rain, she wanted him to make her the messy girl he had always accused her of being.

    And then, when she thought she couldn't take it any longer, she felt him enter her, penetrating her, breaking her virgin seal as he embedded himself to the hilt without care. He grabbed her by the withers, and pulled himself up. Maugrim settled his weight, pinning Deathwish to her place, until she found that her magic rooted her to her spot. The roots of the trees rotted and melted her into mire, and she hissed from the wounds that he was inflicting on her insides, and when his front legs found her shoulders, he forcefully thrust into her again, with strength and assurance.

    And she took it.

    She groaned out loud, begging for more, and when he grabbed her withers and buried his face into her body and breathed in the scent of her hair, she threw her head back and screamed. She rocked her hips back into his, taking the full brunt of his punishment. No one would ever fill her as he did. No one would ever touch her in this way. In that moment, she wanted to die, and then be brought back to lie under Maugrim's rythmic ministrations.

    He continued to thrust into her, grunting as he did so. Fast, urgent, pleading—pleading in a way she never thought he'd ever done with another. And when he fully comes to release, she feels the rush, and her irises go black with pleasure and she groans again, orgasming just moments after he does, feeling the way he strokes her insides, and reveling in the feeling. Their fluids ran together down her back legs—sex, sweat and blood.

    He finally disconnects from her, lowering himself to the ground, a sleepy, self-satisfied grin on his face as he eyed her expectantly. Do your worst, he says, looking at his handy work. She is covered in his scent—his bruises, his blood, his sex. They both know she is ruined. They both know she wouldn't want to be anything else. And yet, as they both stand there, soaking wet, the look on her face is one of cold death, as she approaches him, her black eyes turning silver again as she approaches the breadth of his body. She says nothing as she rubs against him, placing hungry kisses from his mouth, up his jaw, and down his neck, before biting him forcefully at the point where his neck met his shoulder, and then she continues her lover's kiss. Sucking on him as she bites, her grip on his heart resumes, and she squeezes his organs..from the inside out. That heart he so recklessly uses—it belongs to nobody but her.

    God so help him if he should abandon her. If he should abandon This.

    She step back to examine her handiwork, the blood of his body dripping down his shoulder as her face falls to mirror his self-gratified expression. A rare display of emotion on her part, but Deathwish has shown Maugrim a piece of her that she has never shown. Given him things she has not given another. "I think we know that I could kill you any moment I wished. But the night is young, and my body is not done with you quite yet."

    So its to be a game of cat mouse after all. She grins at him darkly, as she slides her still wet body down the length of him, flashing her tail again.

    She wanted to go again.

    yippee kiyay ahh yea, bout to set it off
    HTML by Call
    Reply
    #12
    god make me pay
    like the devil i am
    The familiar curl of her grip on his insides stirs within him, and his jaw clenches together in reaction to the pressure, the tightness. He breathes heavily through flared nostrils, dark eyes watching as hers fade from black to silver, roving her dirtied body that he created, that he had defiled. She has brought him into a whole new creation, a whole new predator, and though Maugrim has never relied on anyone or swore loyalty to any other, he finds himself waiting for her next command, ready and willing to execute whatever she asked of him. 

    She brings herself against him, still squeezing his organs with skilled perfection, rubbing her still-slick body against his own. The satisfaction he felt moments before begins to recede, and his heart begins to thrum anew within his chest, blood flowing freely as his pulse increases. It is her turn for her mouth to dance across his skin, sucking at his cold flesh with delicate lavender lips, tracing the curvature of his jawline and neck, her breath hot and moist on his skin. He shivers beneath her touch, the muscles coiling beneath his two-toned flesh, and he can feel his body readying himself again as he recognizes the stiffness beneath him.

    Her sweet lips clamp down onto the thick muscle of his shoulder and the stallion hisses, baring his teeth. His mouth lingers above her skin, but he does not latch onto her - he’s had his turn, and if he wanted another, he would let her do as she wished in this moment. Slowly, his ivory lips cover his teeth as she continues with her sensual touches, a deep moan reverberating in his throat as the heat from where she bit him flames and pulsates, the thickness of his blood dripping down his shoulder and leg, the scent bringing him exactly where she wanted him to be - she teases him because she can, and because she wants something from him, and she knew exactly what to do to get him there.

    Deathwish purrs at him and runs herself against him again, allowing him to inhale the delectable scent between her thighs. 

    She commands him to please her again, and he is more than happy to oblige. 
    m a u g r i m.


    @[Deathwish]
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)