The lightness of her mouth tracing the delicate patterns of stars across the deep indigo and violet leaves his skin to flutter beneath it, as if he cannot decide if he should stay his natural self or if she would ask him to become another, bringing the endless dreams of her mind into reality. He remembers her perfect throat, exposed as it is now, with gleaming and beautiful ruby drops welling into the holes he had created, running in slow-moving rivulets down the curve of her chest and the slenderness of her legs. The stallion swallows hard, the muscles in his jawline flexing beneath the tension that forms in the clenching of his teeth.
However, his impulsiveness begins to wither away, much more enthralled with the scent of her burning gold skin than the idea to pierce it once again. The reminder of that moment brings more than the red of rage to his eyes; there is something more selfish in his gaze, less chaotic. She holds him here in a near standoff and though she is the one that is vulnerable, Skandar does not doubt her position of control she has over him. He’d become anything for her, he realizes. Even another man, if she had wished it.
But she hadn’t.
The images of the volcano infiltrate his mind simultaneously as her words permeate the humid air, her voice a near-whisper in their closeness. A deep inhale shudders in his chest, his orange and violet nostrils fluttering. Without thinking, his skin flays and flickers, releasing the bright orange glow of lava within the sinister cracks of their movement. His mouth - half stars and half burning magma - press against her throat in a kiss, the magical waters of the falls healing any searing of her skin the moment his lips leave her.
“It should not stay a dream,” he murmurs back almost wickedly despite the methodical pace of his voice. “We can do anything.” He pauses, hovering the warmth of his lips across her cheek, “You can do anything.”
However, his impulsiveness begins to wither away, much more enthralled with the scent of her burning gold skin than the idea to pierce it once again. The reminder of that moment brings more than the red of rage to his eyes; there is something more selfish in his gaze, less chaotic. She holds him here in a near standoff and though she is the one that is vulnerable, Skandar does not doubt her position of control she has over him. He’d become anything for her, he realizes. Even another man, if she had wished it.
But she hadn’t.
The images of the volcano infiltrate his mind simultaneously as her words permeate the humid air, her voice a near-whisper in their closeness. A deep inhale shudders in his chest, his orange and violet nostrils fluttering. Without thinking, his skin flays and flickers, releasing the bright orange glow of lava within the sinister cracks of their movement. His mouth - half stars and half burning magma - press against her throat in a kiss, the magical waters of the falls healing any searing of her skin the moment his lips leave her.
“It should not stay a dream,” he murmurs back almost wickedly despite the methodical pace of his voice. “We can do anything.” He pauses, hovering the warmth of his lips across her cheek, “You can do anything.”
skandar
i want to be the bullet
that brings you to your knees
@Aela