02-18-2017, 07:59 PM
Stillwater
She jerked away from his seeking touch this time, launched herself violently away and straight into the rough wall. He tensed at the immediate difference, the warmth at his side, in her eyes, thrown into ice cold. Never would he get it right with her. Each time he tried to pull her in only shoved her further away from him. So cold.
And then hot again.
So burning hot.
Her warmth engulfed him as she returned to him. His breath caught sharply in his throat at the sudden urgency to her touch, the grabbing, the needing, the immediate soaring of his pulse in eager response.
The scent came with that short intake, fresh and heated blood. His jaws parted as he held stiffly beneath the shock of her lust, dark blue eyes clouding at the surface. He slid into predator, pulled himself forcefully back out of it, slid into it so easily again. Fought with himself. Fought with the hunger. She was supposed to be safe from him, he tried reminding himself. She made it difficult, maybe even impossible, to hold to that. He couldn't even warn her now.
The blood painted him as she dragged her wounded muzzle across his shoulder, along his neck, and he strangled a groan. His breath came shallow and heavy, panting from the mental exertion, the physical might to hold himself still. They were wild and crashing again, a whole new tidal wave he wasn't prepared to shelter from, wasn't prepared to withstand. Surprising and entirely unexpected from her.
She slipped beneath his neck, his chin, just as Karaugh would when he fed from her. His head dived down instantly, burying his mouth roughly in her hair and clamping shut to keep himself from latching onto her neck. He gripped it tight as she pressed fevered, impassioned kisses anywhere her beautiful, damned bloody mouth could reach. The tingling scent wafted to him again and he jerked her against him, locked her shoulder and side in a stony grasp at his hard chest.
Breathing didn't help, the quick breaths, the panting. Breathing made it worse.
And then the breathing slowed.
His skin smoothed against her, stitched her to him again and he released his physical embrace as he growled in enjoyment, an undulating rattle pressing into her --an unnatural rumble, prehistoric in sound. His eyes filled with a calculating, murky gray, and he curled his neck tight, tucked his chin to his chest where she was attached to him. So very slowly, tauntingly, he grazed bared teeth down her spine, dragging across tingling nerves and breathing hotly down her back from the base of her neck, over her withers, along the slight dip in her spine, the delicious curve of her rump.
So hot, her sweet blood, but not there yet.
And then hot again.
So burning hot.
Her warmth engulfed him as she returned to him. His breath caught sharply in his throat at the sudden urgency to her touch, the grabbing, the needing, the immediate soaring of his pulse in eager response.
The scent came with that short intake, fresh and heated blood. His jaws parted as he held stiffly beneath the shock of her lust, dark blue eyes clouding at the surface. He slid into predator, pulled himself forcefully back out of it, slid into it so easily again. Fought with himself. Fought with the hunger. She was supposed to be safe from him, he tried reminding himself. She made it difficult, maybe even impossible, to hold to that. He couldn't even warn her now.
The blood painted him as she dragged her wounded muzzle across his shoulder, along his neck, and he strangled a groan. His breath came shallow and heavy, panting from the mental exertion, the physical might to hold himself still. They were wild and crashing again, a whole new tidal wave he wasn't prepared to shelter from, wasn't prepared to withstand. Surprising and entirely unexpected from her.
She slipped beneath his neck, his chin, just as Karaugh would when he fed from her. His head dived down instantly, burying his mouth roughly in her hair and clamping shut to keep himself from latching onto her neck. He gripped it tight as she pressed fevered, impassioned kisses anywhere her beautiful, damned bloody mouth could reach. The tingling scent wafted to him again and he jerked her against him, locked her shoulder and side in a stony grasp at his hard chest.
Breathing didn't help, the quick breaths, the panting. Breathing made it worse.
And then the breathing slowed.
His skin smoothed against her, stitched her to him again and he released his physical embrace as he growled in enjoyment, an undulating rattle pressing into her --an unnatural rumble, prehistoric in sound. His eyes filled with a calculating, murky gray, and he curled his neck tight, tucked his chin to his chest where she was attached to him. So very slowly, tauntingly, he grazed bared teeth down her spine, dragging across tingling nerves and breathing hotly down her back from the base of her neck, over her withers, along the slight dip in her spine, the delicious curve of her rump.
So hot, her sweet blood, but not there yet.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it