when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
Oh, he’s got plenty on his mind. With the tension between them growing into an air of electric uncertainty, Wyrm comes to understand that it’s not what he could do, it’s what he wouldn’t do to her. The list is shockingly bare. His teeth have gained a life of their own now, encouraged by the roll of her body beneath his lips, and he rakes them against the grain of her patterned fur, a hairsbreadth away from painful. One paw jerks upwards, slaps haphazardly against the tantalizing curve of her flank, and he seems achingly close to rising - he wants to, the taste of her is driving him close to insanity with need, it leaves him panting.
Wyrm’s thoughts don’t help either. They supply flashes of scaled bodies writhing together in the snow, remind him of the wails she’d expressed, (he can’t recall if they were induced from pleasure or pain, but he’d like to hear them again to be sure) and give him glimpses of possibilities for the future. His groin aches. His mouth grows dry. “Good god,” He thinks, closing his mouth once more so that he can trail his nose over the apex of her hips. The spot where tail meets spine freezes him and his chest heaves with throaty groans.
“she’ll be my undoing.” He trembles. “How about a bet?” He finally offers, that deadpan tone betraying no emotion, though his body is screaming otherwise. “I bet you that I can easily beat you to the sea.” The dark tiger challenges. His rounded eyes, now directed over his shoulder to where she waits, reflect the haze of the moon in waves of bright red. The rest of his body follows, forelegs crossing once more to turn that hulking mass of flesh while his gaze trails over her lovely face. “Winner decides what happens next.” He growls.
As suddenly as he’s there, expelling warmth breath in front of her, just as suddenly is he gone - a black speck that whizzes off without even so much as a warning. Epithet was a woman of free will, was she not? He’d find out soon enough how far her interest in him went.
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
