12-26-2017, 10:01 PM
Eione
I can save you, I can take you away from here
I trust you, he whispers to her, desire clutching to the frayed edges of his voice – he presses closer to her, and she is nestling into every muscled crease, fitting into his silhouette as if it had been carved for her and her alone. Her lips brush softly across the gilded ridge of his shoulder, feeling him shift beneath her gentle caress. The longing stirring and rising to the surface is dark with intensity, awakening a part of her she had never known before – the boldness of his stare is captivating, parting her breath from the vast expanse of her lungs, leaving her breathless while her heart is thrumming rapidly inside of the tight confinement of her chest.
She has never known such desire, but not knowing does not deter her. She does not shy away from the way he causes her heart to throb, nor from the way her belly has become tight with unfamiliar need – she is flushed and warm to the touch, overwhelmed by the emotion roiling inside of her. It is not only her emotion – it is his, as he is exposed to her, left vulnerable by his own will as his mind traverses the long and distant plane of his memory, revealing his drive, his ambition, his heartbreak. She cannot only see his anger, his despair, his betrayal, his desire and the fleeting thought of love he once felt for the star-wielder that bore him a nameless son -
She can feel it.
Her heavy lashes flutter shut, as her own mind searches his, hungrily devouring every detail given to her – longing to know him deeply, intimately, more than word nor action could be. Her breath is soft and warm across the nape of his neck, and each small puff is a reminder of how hard and how vigorously her heart is pounding against her rib cage. Face, places, experiences wash over her like invigorating rainfall, drenching her through skin and through bone. It is as if an eternity has passed, and when the memories are once again simply that - memories, tucked away for safekeeping in his heart and in hers – her bright red eyes are seeking his, awestruck, enthralled, enamored.
Unshed tears cling to each rim of her wide-eyed scarlet gaze, and her thick lashes disturb each one into streaking down across the ivory of her skin – but unabashedly, she watches him. She is unafraid of the emotion portrayed across the feminine curve of her own features – she is touched, and just as she can see within him, she desires him to see within her, to see that she has seen all that he has given to her – and each fallen tear is an acknowledgement of it.
She is not sad – far from it!
He has given a part of himself to her – a part of himself that no one else could touch, and so willingly. She cannot keep her exhilaration to herself; her lips are pressed firmly to the ridge of his shoulder, tracing the column of his neck and tucked away into the crook of her jaw. Each kiss is fervent and laced with elation, and the desire she felt for him only minutes ago is tenfold, coiling between her legs but spreading through her veins like wildfire.
”Thank you,” she murmurs to him, locking her gaze with his. ”for sharing so much with me.”
A soft huff of laughter rises from her throat as her cheek brushes beneath his chin, nuzzling him and pressing closer to him. ”You are my favorite part of Hyaline, Amet,” she murmurs huskily, moving beneath the arch of his neck and pressing the softness of her two-toned skin against the smoothness of his gilded scales as her barrel pushes against his shoulder and over the broadness of his chest, coiling him around him like a feline writhing with affection. Her neck is outstretched so that her teeth may tug at the bronze tresses over his own neck, as her crimson gaze searches for his, burning for him as she had never burned for anyone else.
She has never known such desire, but not knowing does not deter her. She does not shy away from the way he causes her heart to throb, nor from the way her belly has become tight with unfamiliar need – she is flushed and warm to the touch, overwhelmed by the emotion roiling inside of her. It is not only her emotion – it is his, as he is exposed to her, left vulnerable by his own will as his mind traverses the long and distant plane of his memory, revealing his drive, his ambition, his heartbreak. She cannot only see his anger, his despair, his betrayal, his desire and the fleeting thought of love he once felt for the star-wielder that bore him a nameless son -
She can feel it.
Her heavy lashes flutter shut, as her own mind searches his, hungrily devouring every detail given to her – longing to know him deeply, intimately, more than word nor action could be. Her breath is soft and warm across the nape of his neck, and each small puff is a reminder of how hard and how vigorously her heart is pounding against her rib cage. Face, places, experiences wash over her like invigorating rainfall, drenching her through skin and through bone. It is as if an eternity has passed, and when the memories are once again simply that - memories, tucked away for safekeeping in his heart and in hers – her bright red eyes are seeking his, awestruck, enthralled, enamored.
Unshed tears cling to each rim of her wide-eyed scarlet gaze, and her thick lashes disturb each one into streaking down across the ivory of her skin – but unabashedly, she watches him. She is unafraid of the emotion portrayed across the feminine curve of her own features – she is touched, and just as she can see within him, she desires him to see within her, to see that she has seen all that he has given to her – and each fallen tear is an acknowledgement of it.
She is not sad – far from it!
He has given a part of himself to her – a part of himself that no one else could touch, and so willingly. She cannot keep her exhilaration to herself; her lips are pressed firmly to the ridge of his shoulder, tracing the column of his neck and tucked away into the crook of her jaw. Each kiss is fervent and laced with elation, and the desire she felt for him only minutes ago is tenfold, coiling between her legs but spreading through her veins like wildfire.
”Thank you,” she murmurs to him, locking her gaze with his. ”for sharing so much with me.”
A soft huff of laughter rises from her throat as her cheek brushes beneath his chin, nuzzling him and pressing closer to him. ”You are my favorite part of Hyaline, Amet,” she murmurs huskily, moving beneath the arch of his neck and pressing the softness of her two-toned skin against the smoothness of his gilded scales as her barrel pushes against his shoulder and over the broadness of his chest, coiling him around him like a feline writhing with affection. Her neck is outstretched so that her teeth may tug at the bronze tresses over his own neck, as her crimson gaze searches for his, burning for him as she had never burned for anyone else.
@[Amet]