03-22-2018, 01:41 PM
She likes what she sees, what she feels, and even what she knows.
And yet, reluctance still threads through his every thought, perhaps even doubt.
Sabra has already been hurt by him; when his lids drift shut he can see her blood winding in rivulets down her sides and onto the frozen red clay.
(Feed)
The twisting in his stomach isn’t a typical hunger and the ideas reeling through his mind are much more primal. With each step closer and with each lasting touch, Castile’s grip on himself is slipping. Her blood has an enthusiastic pulse that drums faintly against his skin as their bodies melt into each other. It, in turn, enthralls him and arouses his adrenaline to pour thickly into his veins. The silence is uninterrupted by his wings shifting from feathers to a thin membrane. Small, hook-like talons sprout from the arms. They could so easily grab her, hold her…
(… Take her)
A ragged breath fills his lungs as his cheek presses to the plane of her neck. The world ripples away around them in this moment when words aren’t even necessary. Their body heat, their heartbeats, their breaths are enough to fuel a hushed passion that he has never before experienced. It’s so new, but so invigorating. A shudder cartwheels through his body, wanting her for himself.
”I don’t think you could handle it – all of me,” he’s realizing that there are two sides to him, that he cannot still control what lies deep inside him. It’s an entity all of its own.
He’s coming to. No one can handle him. He can’t handle himself.
It’s why he fled, why he abandoned everyone for months.
Because he is truly a monster.
Another breath is drunkenly swallowed to savor the sweet ecstasy of her scent as though it’s the last time. ”I don’t want to hurt you,” he pauses to unwillingly peel himself from her, ”not again.”
And suddenly the fear is there again, reflecting in his mismatched eyes.
And yet, reluctance still threads through his every thought, perhaps even doubt.
Sabra has already been hurt by him; when his lids drift shut he can see her blood winding in rivulets down her sides and onto the frozen red clay.
(Feed)
The twisting in his stomach isn’t a typical hunger and the ideas reeling through his mind are much more primal. With each step closer and with each lasting touch, Castile’s grip on himself is slipping. Her blood has an enthusiastic pulse that drums faintly against his skin as their bodies melt into each other. It, in turn, enthralls him and arouses his adrenaline to pour thickly into his veins. The silence is uninterrupted by his wings shifting from feathers to a thin membrane. Small, hook-like talons sprout from the arms. They could so easily grab her, hold her…
(… Take her)
A ragged breath fills his lungs as his cheek presses to the plane of her neck. The world ripples away around them in this moment when words aren’t even necessary. Their body heat, their heartbeats, their breaths are enough to fuel a hushed passion that he has never before experienced. It’s so new, but so invigorating. A shudder cartwheels through his body, wanting her for himself.
”I don’t think you could handle it – all of me,” he’s realizing that there are two sides to him, that he cannot still control what lies deep inside him. It’s an entity all of its own.
He’s coming to. No one can handle him. He can’t handle himself.
It’s why he fled, why he abandoned everyone for months.
Because he is truly a monster.
Another breath is drunkenly swallowed to savor the sweet ecstasy of her scent as though it’s the last time. ”I don’t want to hurt you,” he pauses to unwillingly peel himself from her, ”not again.”
And suddenly the fear is there again, reflecting in his mismatched eyes.