07-06-2017, 03:57 PM
The darkness wrapped around Drow with a flash of teeth, a gravelly, rumbling purr, a sibilant “yesss” that hissed through shadowy canine lips and snaked out to stroke along his spine, sending a delicious shiver running through him. For the first time in far too goddamn long, those bloodstained lips touched his shoulder. Fire burned in his belly, roared to life in his veins, as the darkness crooned, “Your blood…” He angled his head away, baring his neck, offering himself, his eyes drifting closed at that hungry hiss.
Teeth sank into his flesh, and the whole world narrowed to the lips on his shoulder, the blood flowing free, the white hot agony as those teeth ripped a piece of him free and the darkness swallowed it down. A low, hungry moan tore out of his throat, and again as its tongue slicked over the wound, as that familiar voice declared him “Mine” for all to hear.
Or at least, all who were present. Drow opened his eyes just enough to meet the red ones watching the scene with solemn curiosity. A lazy smirk slowly spread across his lips, and he blew the stranger a kiss. And that was all the attention he had for anyone but the wicked, glorious darkness. “Mine” was right, and the gods knew the feeling was fucking mutual.
His teeth were far too dull to have any impact on that thick hellhound hide, but he trailed his muzzle along its neck and bit down anyhow, staking his claim in return. He couldn’t draw blood, couldn’t tear off a chunk of that magnificent flesh and swallow it down, not as shrouded in magic as it was. But he could damn well bite, and chase it with a stroke of his tongue against scaly skin.
Mine.
Teeth sank into his flesh, and the whole world narrowed to the lips on his shoulder, the blood flowing free, the white hot agony as those teeth ripped a piece of him free and the darkness swallowed it down. A low, hungry moan tore out of his throat, and again as its tongue slicked over the wound, as that familiar voice declared him “Mine” for all to hear.
Or at least, all who were present. Drow opened his eyes just enough to meet the red ones watching the scene with solemn curiosity. A lazy smirk slowly spread across his lips, and he blew the stranger a kiss. And that was all the attention he had for anyone but the wicked, glorious darkness. “Mine” was right, and the gods knew the feeling was fucking mutual.
His teeth were far too dull to have any impact on that thick hellhound hide, but he trailed his muzzle along its neck and bit down anyhow, staking his claim in return. He couldn’t draw blood, couldn’t tear off a chunk of that magnificent flesh and swallow it down, not as shrouded in magic as it was. But he could damn well bite, and chase it with a stroke of his tongue against scaly skin.
Mine.