 Love grew stale, and the bed it lied upon grew staler; fatherhood elongated the illusion of eternal love for a year or so, and then only added on more weight to the back which broke long before the star-crossed lovers even met. Sure, the sex stayed great; it was hard not to love having something to cum in whenever he pleased, considering that his sub hadn't a bone in his body capable of rejecting his husband. Of course, that little issue of pure obedience had gotten them into this mess in the first place, with two daughters who possessed far more spunk that Nihlus had ever signed on for. He imagined them as chaste and quiet, god damnit! Though that's not to say that he didn't love the little tricksters, for they were admittedly adorable, and almost always got their way with their sire.
Alas, the cuteness eventually faded into womanly beauty, a feature which simply did nothing for Nihlus. And although he would always hold a place in his heart for his first two and two last children, he simply needed to move on; Ischia no longer suited his needs, and the hole he found him burying his dick in eventually became uninteresting, too. Sure, he loved his partner in an ushy-gushy kind of way, but he'd never been one for love and love alone; perhaps something about being raised by a mother who lied about his parentage had something to do with it, though he wouldn't be caught dead analyzing such depressing stuff. Nope! That's for the sissies and the cry babies, and Nihlus obviously belonged to neither category.
So, where to then, if not Ischia? The word around Beqanna was that Loess had stirred up quite a storm recently, plucking some juicy fruits from higher kingdoms. Such winnings had to be worth looking into, right? Or at least, it would be fun to disturb the shit of the shit disturbers if their captives and high-ranking members did not please his taste; a taste which, mind you, is both broad and extremely specific. At this point any wriggling thing would excite the dangerously handsome stallion, and yet he found himself almost deliriously in need of a man who would blush and squeal and buck beneath the weight of him, who would whine and cry and beg when he thrusted the full length and width of himself into a place that it definitely did not belong, to evolution anyway. God, how badly he wanted something like that; or rather, someone.
Without ceremony, the rain manipulator slinked into the war kingdom, already liking the smell of it and the feel of the forgiving loam beneath his hooves. The starkly contrasted white of his forelegs flashed gorgeously in the bright summer moonlight, illuminating his well-built baroque figure as it seemed to float across the even terrain. The curve of his thick neck and the breadth of his shoulders and hips would attract even the most asexual of eyes, the fluid motion of his masculine features like warm saliva sliding down their most intimate parts. What can I say, Nihlus is gorgeous - and even more than that, full of himself. It's not like any was expecting anything otherwise, especially after a dry spell of nearly five years - unless you count the devoted, perfect boy he left heartbroken on an Ischian shore somewhere to the south, utterly forgotten as Nihlus raises his nose and scents the air for stallions. Nihlus that's all I want
a river that will never find home
Oddly enough, the lion Primarch has found himself longing for excitement outside of Kensa. It is not that the beautiful woman has bored him, or that children have dulled their relationship, but that he finds himself daydreaming of . . . youthful trysts.
Time so completely alone within Loess allows for such wandering thoughts.
Barren and cruel, the captive’s surroundings are sharply contrasted by his colorful thoughts. Today, he is just as angry and desolate as before; yet now, he distracts himself with the memories of a male’s touch. His only experience was with Rhaegor - now a resident of Tephra and a relic of Hyaline. Litotes’ heavy sigh speaks of disillusionment and compacted energy. The boulder beneath him is too soft for what he truly desires. What a combination of boredom and corruption may make.
Vulgaris - and now Castile - failed to spell out the rules of his imprisonment. Though there are patrols that would surely catch him if he attempted to escape, Litotes imagines he can wander as close to the border as he desires. Maybe he can even greet those that wander to the border. He will be here a year, after all - why not make himself at home (and less furious). His solitude has allowed him plenty of time to explore Loess; he will be as good a guide as any, even better than Castile (he smirks at the thought).
The border pushes his senses today. The very tips of Lie’s body quiver with excitement as he steps purposefully closer to the smell that marks his cell. The shivering of his spine turns into a vibrations between his legs - shaping a longing deep inside him that tingles in unspoken regions. Here, a smell makes him quake, entirely unlike Loess and just enough to put his entire body on edge.
He cannot help but think of the first moment he entered Kensa - how this excitement reminds him of that exact moment.
Dark bay and muscled in a much more masculine way than the Primarch, Nihlus makes himself known. It is apparent that his aura is not intentional - he simply beckons for the attention in the tilt of his head curve of his legs. Litotes stops, topaz eyes swallowing the dom whole while the darkest parts of him begged to be appeased. He swallows, echoing a deep nicker that beckons the stranger closer.
Litotes longs for a distractions.
The memories of a man’s lips on his side play over and over again in his mind.
It never took long for the needy to find him. Something about there not being many doms in Beqanna, he figured; in the end, he never dwelt long on the subjected, instead lending his full attention to the subjects who came to him from it.
In this case, the subject was a pale and femininely chiseled stallion who not only called to Nihlus, but who made his desire quite apparent by way of the erection which swung beneath his slim stomach. The other scent's which Nihlus had been tracking were forgotten with an expert immediacy, as though he had lived out this scenario time and again; and yet he still felt himself grow firm in response to the other's clear arousal. There lingered perhaps a smidge of guilt in the broken crook of his smile upon approach, but it lended itself only to making the encounter dirtier, and consequently, sexier. Cleanliness was certainly not a perk of this job, anyway; it's not as if he weren't used to a little mess.
Speaking of little messes...
"Why hello there," spoke the tall stallion in a sinister voice. The distance between them evaporated like sizzling water (hot, painful). By where he stood about two feet off, Nihlus could clearly see into the topaz depths of his admirers eyes, could watch whatever emotion flickered there as though he were in the sub's own head. For a moment, Nih held the other's gaze with his own glowing blue one, the intensity therein piercing to say the least; but, as the tension threatened to spill both their seed on to the ground in a useless waste of sexual energy, Nihlus pulled away, grinning arrogantly as he failed to give what the other so desperately seemed to want.
The wind blew anticlimactically. Rolling his gaze boredly over the scentline which the other had been approaching (for reasons he could only guess at), Nih shifted his hindquarters. In doing so, he teasingly revealed the sight of his arousal, though his facial expression indicated no knowledge of such - none, that was, until he slowly turned to glower at the other with a devilish smirk.
He had forgotten what fun it was to play with a toy.
He tilted his head, considered opening with a line about the angelic nature of the stallion before him, and decided against it. The glow of the pale man's yellow eyes advised him on to a different course of action.
"Your cock is hard." A statement, louder than his previous words and spoken with less flare. Still, the curl of his smoky lips remained, and the wind now felt less stale, and more as though it were filled with the scent of male arousal. He considered asking the other why that was; but with a growing grin, he decided to let the other scramble through trying to respond to such a statement. Nihlus that's all I want
@[litotes]
a river that will never find home
The call of the stallion is irresistible.
When Litotes falls, he falls hard. Into an abyss so deep and dark that even at their widest his eyes can not adjust. The lust is overpowering, a stench hot and wet not unlike the smell of rotting flesh. He thinks it funny how life and death are so similar, how they can be born of the very same actions. In his trench of thoughts no familiar face comes to him - Kensa, Brunhilde, so on . . . all family and friends remain absent.
Alone, so alone with just his thoughts and a sexy force of a man.
Nihlus stands as a sinister statue, smoldering with a desire different from Lie’s but equally matched. The cremello returns the smile, though the undetected guilt is absent in his; in the ditch he has fallen into, most emotions do not exist. Here lies a release, a trap, irresistible in appearance and scent. Something that feels alive and squirms and is so starkly different from the numb anger of before.
Between the opposing stallion’s thighs protrudes an arousal the lion man has never met before. A brow cocked and a feline purr in the back of his throat, he shifts closer, eying the teasing gaze of his counterpart. They both desire what dangles so tantalizingly between them: sex. Their chemistry is apparent in the way their individual dances mimic one another - lucky that their primal pheromones match up so easily in a chance encounter.
The sharp canine’s of a lion reveal themselves, tucking Lie’s bottom lip beneath them. If his whole mind was lost, he would drool; alas, the drama of such an action is lost to the racing thoughts of his titillation.
Nihlus’ next statement comes as a gentle surprise. His brow remains raised and smile appears to match the arrogant way the dom presents himself.
“So is yours.”
The response came without a thought, short and sweet - the cremello feeling as if their encounter required no fluff. He takes a single step forward, then another, each move growing more confident as he draws closer. The dark bay of the other gleams menacingly as his scent overtakes all of Litotes’ senses.
Drunk, he thinks, I am so drunk.
And in those thoughts he makes a drunken man’s move, pressing hot and greedy lips to the taller jawline before him. He stops his hungry trail at the dom’s ear, breathe hot like a summer’s humid wind against his skin.
“Do you want me to beg for you?”
Yes, the cremello thinks, knowing that he will be taken with no mercy. Down Nihlus’ nape his trail continues, this time with predator’s teeth pressed into his skin. He bites with no thought of the other’s pain, hoping for the metallic taste of sensual blood in his mouth. He stops at the crest of the other’s hindquarters, not daring to go further without permission. His topaz eyes dare a glance to Nihlus’ piercing blue ones, that heated need spreading like fire between them.
@[Nihlus]
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