For a moment, she simply relishes the power in his muscles, that hidden strength that could come to the fore at any moment. Though she cannot read the subtle changes to his body, they way he can alter veins and nerves and the smallest of cells, she knows what rests beneath. She knows just how deadly, just how dangerous he could be. And she has never felt safer.
Curled into his side, soft blue skin pressed against green, she feels oddly at home. It is familiar and comfortable. It is thrilling and exquisite, heating her blood and tracing shivers along her skin. She might keep so much to herself, but this is not one of those things. This is meant to be shared.
No words are necessary, not after promises had been given and business had ended. A small, secret part of her is glad he had not left immediately. That same small, secret part of her wants him to stay. Wants him to curl into a cool, shadowy cave with her, wants them both to forget the world exists. At least for a little while.
Something holds her tongue though, keeping her from saying such thoughts aloud. The much larger part of her that wants to depend upon no one but herself, that refuses to give in to the softer and warmer things in life (the better things in life). But she stays pressed against him, because she wants this more than she can say, more than she would ever admit.
But then he is moving, slipping under her chin until they are shoulder to shoulder, until his lips and teeth are able to reach the graceful, sloping line of her back. She presses her muzzle against him, a soft, low sigh escaping her lips, the warmth of her breath tracing against his emerald skin. Her dark lids slide closed, shuttering the bright blue of her gaze as bliss takes over. Without conscious thought, her lips begin brushing teasing lines across his flesh, absentmindedly mimicking his movements against her.
And for a time, she readily, voluntarily forgets anything exists but the two of them.
