03-20-2018, 06:31 PM
The lines are blurred between the passion of battle and lust. Castile hasn’t touched a girl – not this much – and it stirs inside him. Her body heat caresses his lips while they press against the cusp of her neck and shoulder, breathing her in and truly taking note of her in a way he hadn’t in battle. Much to his excitement, her body inclines toward approval of him, letting him trace the lines of her neck before he wills himself to pull away.
(Little bird is mine)
But she doesn’t let him escape from the contact so easily. Undeniably, Castile hoped that she would mirror him and seek the touch that he is so willing to give. Her muzzle leans into his neck, down to his shoulder, and her touch is like a whisper across his skin – so light, so delicate. A chill runs down the length of his spine. He didn’t know he would enjoy this so much. The adrenaline from battle is meager compared to the hammering of his heart in this moment. This intimacy is a first for him, and it awakens a thirst he never knew he had.
”Sabra,” he breathes her name but catches it when it was on the verge of a moan. Hearing her, feeling her, Castile is suddenly powerless. His eyes shut beneath his forelock, focusing, and still trying desperately to suppress what beat stirs to life inside him. ”I would sacrifice myself if it meant saving other lives,” he would never forgive himself if he murdered, but alas, he would also have no recollection of it unless he was told otherwise. ”You have only seen a glimpse,” he opens his eyes to look at her, to search her pretty face as it creases with concern for him, ”and that was bad enough.” To let it consume him, to let it surface, would mean destruction to everything around him, no matter how dear.
(Little bird is mine)
But she doesn’t let him escape from the contact so easily. Undeniably, Castile hoped that she would mirror him and seek the touch that he is so willing to give. Her muzzle leans into his neck, down to his shoulder, and her touch is like a whisper across his skin – so light, so delicate. A chill runs down the length of his spine. He didn’t know he would enjoy this so much. The adrenaline from battle is meager compared to the hammering of his heart in this moment. This intimacy is a first for him, and it awakens a thirst he never knew he had.
”Sabra,” he breathes her name but catches it when it was on the verge of a moan. Hearing her, feeling her, Castile is suddenly powerless. His eyes shut beneath his forelock, focusing, and still trying desperately to suppress what beat stirs to life inside him. ”I would sacrifice myself if it meant saving other lives,” he would never forgive himself if he murdered, but alas, he would also have no recollection of it unless he was told otherwise. ”You have only seen a glimpse,” he opens his eyes to look at her, to search her pretty face as it creases with concern for him, ”and that was bad enough.” To let it consume him, to let it surface, would mean destruction to everything around him, no matter how dear.