02-15-2017, 01:33 PM
No, she was not a mask. Nothing as pretty and pointless as that.
She was a dagger to his throat, expertly carved and gleaming, delicately ornate. Decorative, yet so deadly. It was a precarious situation, not knowing what might trigger that blade to drive forward into him, exciting. But he didn’t fear it. He held her, admired that lethal radiance with intimacy perhaps only a fool would grasp for, without a care for himself. Because he wasn’t afraid to bleed, no matter how she might prick him. But it was like she gripped that blade tight; let him touch it but not hold it, would not relinquish her grasp on that beautiful hilt.
And then she did. And then her body softened and gently placed that beautiful weapon in his hand. He cradled her lethal edge, responded to her release with a sweet, whispering breath from parted lips across her bare shoulder just as she touched his own. He was so sensitive, could feel the faintest contact as she gently lined his armor. A low, throaty hum vibrated between them against her breast, enjoying that tenderness perhaps a little too much. Enjoying, too, the brush of her skin beneath his lips.
No, but given the circumstances, it is only fair you be warned.
A warning; he could appreciate that. He kept his lips at her shoulder, slowly traced indistinct patterns into the dip of her neck. If only time could stop, just for a while. If only he could try to find if she’d be a good memory to keep when he pushed everything else away. Something to soothe him when the rage took over, consumed him with its blackness and hate. Maybe something to pull him back from it, if just a little; rein in the beast to something more controlled. But she was not a tool to be used, even if it was just a memory of her.
Mmm.. I don’t give warnings, myself, he said gently. Slowly, carefully, he pinched her flesh between his teeth, just enough to shock her nerves. Then he kissed the sting away. But I think you know that, he repeated softly. Yes, if only time could stop, just for a while. With a reluctant sigh, he began to pull back, black muzzle dragging leisurely along her neck, drawing over the attractive contours of muscle.
I am needed elsewhere just now, a hint of regret as he hovered at her soft cheek. He placed the dagger of her carefully back into her hands with quiet reverence, as though she may even harm herself with it were she not careful. It was not his to keep, was not a gift. Only a peek, she allowed him. He detached himself completely then, hating that sudden lack of skin-to-skin as he searched her eyes.
Will you allow me to leave this time? His mouth quirked slightly just at that spot of blue in the corner of it, a shine of amusement coming forward from the dark depths of his black eyes. And will you find me again? Less of a question as to her plans, and more of a.. tentative request. There might be things here yet unfinished.
She was a dagger to his throat, expertly carved and gleaming, delicately ornate. Decorative, yet so deadly. It was a precarious situation, not knowing what might trigger that blade to drive forward into him, exciting. But he didn’t fear it. He held her, admired that lethal radiance with intimacy perhaps only a fool would grasp for, without a care for himself. Because he wasn’t afraid to bleed, no matter how she might prick him. But it was like she gripped that blade tight; let him touch it but not hold it, would not relinquish her grasp on that beautiful hilt.
And then she did. And then her body softened and gently placed that beautiful weapon in his hand. He cradled her lethal edge, responded to her release with a sweet, whispering breath from parted lips across her bare shoulder just as she touched his own. He was so sensitive, could feel the faintest contact as she gently lined his armor. A low, throaty hum vibrated between them against her breast, enjoying that tenderness perhaps a little too much. Enjoying, too, the brush of her skin beneath his lips.
No, but given the circumstances, it is only fair you be warned.
A warning; he could appreciate that. He kept his lips at her shoulder, slowly traced indistinct patterns into the dip of her neck. If only time could stop, just for a while. If only he could try to find if she’d be a good memory to keep when he pushed everything else away. Something to soothe him when the rage took over, consumed him with its blackness and hate. Maybe something to pull him back from it, if just a little; rein in the beast to something more controlled. But she was not a tool to be used, even if it was just a memory of her.
Mmm.. I don’t give warnings, myself, he said gently. Slowly, carefully, he pinched her flesh between his teeth, just enough to shock her nerves. Then he kissed the sting away. But I think you know that, he repeated softly. Yes, if only time could stop, just for a while. With a reluctant sigh, he began to pull back, black muzzle dragging leisurely along her neck, drawing over the attractive contours of muscle.
I am needed elsewhere just now, a hint of regret as he hovered at her soft cheek. He placed the dagger of her carefully back into her hands with quiet reverence, as though she may even harm herself with it were she not careful. It was not his to keep, was not a gift. Only a peek, she allowed him. He detached himself completely then, hating that sudden lack of skin-to-skin as he searched her eyes.
Will you allow me to leave this time? His mouth quirked slightly just at that spot of blue in the corner of it, a shine of amusement coming forward from the dark depths of his black eyes. And will you find me again? Less of a question as to her plans, and more of a.. tentative request. There might be things here yet unfinished.
