12-29-2017, 11:19 PM
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
You will, Eione tells him, an unspoken promise to stay, to show herself to him, offer him pieces of herself so that he may begin to know her the way she knows him, though he knows that he will never be able to experience those things the way that she had. But he knows with absolute certainty that she would allow him to experience her life just as she had his... if it was at all possible. And that is enough for him.
They fall together into silence, succumbing to their overwhelming lust and their curiosity. The quiet gasp that falls from Eione's maw draws his attention, ears swiveling towards her so that he can drink in the little sounds of surprise and desire that come periodically from the sabino mare. He works to coax more from her, his pricked ears yearning to hear Eione gasp or groan, and his smirk reappears as he realizes that she is doing the same.
He explores her with a gentle touch though it grows more fervent and needy as they progress, smirking in accomplishment to himself when the shiver rolls down her spine ─ he yearns for her to know the strength of his desire, to see it in his mind but also feel it in his touch, in the way his gold-flecked eyes rove over the contours of her curvy frame and the way his breath hitches whenever she touches his someplace new. He wants all of her, this mysterious mind-reader (her mind, her body, her fears, her desires), and he wants it with such intensity that he has already forgotten that this is the first time they have met.
Amet has no doubts that he is Eione's ─ the desire has encompassed him, the magnetic pull between them unfaltering. And when she splays her legs for him as he nestles his leather-plated head against the muscle of her hind leg, he can only think that just maybe she is his, too.
The dark tresses of her tail are moved to the side and Amet is lost in the scent of her, his muzzle roving closer to her wet desire as he presses kisses against the curve of her rump. I need you, too, she confesses, and his breathy exhales wash feather-light warmth over her wetness as his own desire throbs beneath him. Eione tosses her head to the side, peering coyly over her shoulder at him from beneath a disheveled forelock, her crimson eyes enrapturing the gilded Akhal-Teke all over again.
Her failed confession catches him off-guard and for a moment (more of a split second, really) he wants to ask if she is sure that she wants him in that way... that he is really the one she wants to experience a physical coupling with for the first time, but he remembers in that fleeting instance that she has seen the best and worst parts of him. And she still wants him. Here and now. "I promise," he whispers against her skin gruffly.
Please, she mewls in return, and Amet is putty in her figurative hands. His amber eyes wrench themselves from her beautiful face and he admires the curve of her hindquarters as his muzzle follows just behind, touching the places that his gold-flecked eyes have lingered. Amet's nostrils flare and he shifts his weight so that he is more directly behind her and, for a brief instance, his gaze looks at her adoringly, parted for him so willingly, before his warm maw connects with the plush pink of her womanhood, delving into the heady wetness of her desire.
He does not rush, nor does he concern himself with concentrating on anything other than Eione. Lost in her, and in the moment, Amet squeals, a hind hoof kicking at the plateau beneath them before he raises his head and pushes his narrow chest into Eione's rump, teeth nibbling playfully at the curve of her haunches beneath his maw. His stiffness is hot, nearly uncomfortable with the magnitude of his desire now, and Amet rises carefully onto his muscled hindquarters to place himself as gently as possible onto the crimson-eyed mare. His long forelegs find easy purchase on her curves, before he re-positions his svelte frame and sinks himself slowly and passionately into Eione's warm depths.
@[Eione]