The tension of pain lives rigidly in Bardot’s muscles in the beginning, he knows this because he can feel it. It is a familiar feeling and one he has rarely bothered to notice, leaving himself to focus only on the thrill of satisfying instinct, and the delicious flavor of pain and fear. Bardot does not cry, or struggle, or decide to fight. After a time she does begin to move, to translate his thrusts into something that gives her pleasure and he follows her queues with atypical curiosity. Not long after she drops her ears back into the dark cords of her mane and makes the most delicious sound, so quiet that he’d miss it if his senses weren’t suddenly so full of her. Her body awakens around him and he groans, burying himself as deeply as he can. Bardot tenses, beginning to writhe under his muscular body and he increases his pace before those words she so adores send her over the edge. The little unicorn feels incredible and he increases his pace, taking a hank of her mane into his grip as he does so. His thrusts become harder, more insistent, and he holds her tight as he finishes, so that there is no space between them at all.
How boneless she is when he slips from her back. Tunnel stands close beside her, letting her lean into his massive blue frame if she chose. He grooms a mark on her side, not softly, nor with the roughness that had left it in the first place.
His attention to her has not been gentleness in the way most others would recognize it. Under her tawny pelt the skin is likely to soon be terribly bruised, her body will likely ache where she has been relentlessly gripped and grabbed.
She is so much more beautiful than she had already been before he'd had her. Sweat has broken across her skin and her dark mane curls and sticks to her neck like small black serpents lulled to sleep in her radiant warmth. Tunnel brushes them away with his lips and tastes the salt on her skin. He feels the flush there, senses the contentment loosening her muscles. Bardot's flowers do not wilt from the heat of her body but he swears some of them are rumpled, partially crushed so that their petals crease. He does not remember touching them but will the next time, a strange eroticism in pulling them apart that was not there before. He had hated her flowers, but now their fragrance creeps down his throat and makes him thirst.
He looks at her and lust curls in him again and gathers in his eyes like a heavy storm. Their breathing is loud in the close forest, her exhalations remind him of the mewling, quaking cries he had driven from her, he reaches up to kiss her throat and drag his teeth against this soft vulnerable part of her. His voice low, as deep as dark water.
"You are a brave little unicorn, Bardot."
The pause that follows seems as though it should be filled with words but it isn't. He's looking at her, his body already calling him back to hers, aching to spend himself atop her, within her again, this time he wants her blood on his tongue, to push her off of her feet… to…
Cold suffuses the blue black expanse of his sweat darkened back, nausea follows and he pulls away from Bardot. Putting space between them so that the forest chill pours in around both of their bodies. The disgust on his stony features isn't for her but he doesn't make any clarification.
"You need to leave now." To the west the sun is sinking away. The dapples of light are gone and the shadows do not grow long here, just dense and blue and cold. Tunnel's tone is cruelly smooth, leaving her nothing to catch herself on, accepting no challenge. Yet he knows she will defy him, will tempt him past his control with her barbed tongue and golden eyes. He snorts, dismissively, and leaves. Abandons her in the forest, knowing his way too well to be followed.
The pathways he crosses are a mad warren, he knows not to follow them long. Once he has gained some distance he chooses a cardinal direction and moves through the undergrowth letting the bramble scratch and pull at him. He still smells her on his skin, and a headache pounds beneath his brow, tension and frustration coiling around him as he disappears into the dark.
@Bardot
