I should but I don’t want to. Murmurs the little unicorn and Tunnel rumbles in approval before his teeth catch at her delicate jaw, holding her just long enough, his colorless eyes meeting her defiant golden ones with a severe and direct look. It’s a pleasure to take that kiss from her, to find her pliant under his lips and feel her skin turn to fire as she flushes and presses in with her own ferocity. Bardot’s blunt teeth catch at his lip when he withdraws and he very nearly comes back for more. He’s rarely bothered with things like kisses but Bardot is a woman that ought to have her mouth caught in a kiss, her lips bruised by teeth.
They embrace, his teeth cutting against her withers and tasting the sweat on her skin. She tastes like herself, not like flowers. He really does not care for the flowers, he likes things that a real, the ragged edge, blood, bone, and earth. Bardot’s heart hammers against Tunnel’s velveteen chest like a frantic caged thing. Turning his ears back to catch the sound of her gasp, the blue creature nips her shoulder hard to keep himself grounded here, and not take her right in the midst of the meadow like some kind of exhibitionist, with the sun beating down on their backs. It wouldn’t do, he is too greedy, too jealous to share the things he wants to do to her with anyone else.
I would see your forest. She murmurs these words against his neck and tugs at his tangled black mane eagerly, hard enough that it could even be a little bit desperation. The forceful lust that rolls through his massive frame in response to that needy gesture surprises Tunnel. “I’ll show you more than that, little unicorn.” Pivoting to press himself to her tawny side he tosses his massive head only to nip her smooth neck and urge her off in the direction of the forest. Somehow he knows she’ll run before him but he pushes her to as well, forcing her off in the direction of the river just enough paces ahead of him so that he can watch the way she moves over the earth. The ripple of her muscles beneath her golden skin.
At the river’s edge he bites her rump, urging her into the cold water and then joining her there. It’s a shock to his skin and he bullies his way through the current to shelter Bardot from its torrent and then guides her into the shaded shallows, grazing his lips against her throat latch and then bounding up onto the bank. Looking back down at Bardot he considers giving her one more chance to escape.. Only to wonder why? Why does he keep urging her to go? His countenance darkens a moment and then he snorts. “Come.”
Tunnel knows these parts of the forest inside out. He does not select a trail but pushes through the undergrowth, breaking trail for Bardot. The forest does not take long to grow gloomy, to turn cold in spite of the heat hanging over the rest of the common lands. The light is thready and dappled and he melts into the places between these fingers of light, his breath fogging in the eerie chill as he finds Bardot, sliding against her slowly and grooming her wet side as he goes. There’s a tenderness in the gesture as he leaves her to get her bearings in the cool darkness of his forest. Her flowers compete with the rich moldering of the deep leaf-litter but Tunnel is drinking in the scent of desire that clings to her skin instead. “Not very like your jungle, I expect?”
@Bardot
