06-23-2018, 11:24 PM
 I V A R promising everything i do not mean |
He feels her smile against his neck and the boldness in her touch as she tastes the salt-crusted length of his spine. Though he does not move his cheek from the warmth of her thigh, the kelpie slows his exploration of her mahogany skin. For a moment Ivar considers hypnosis, but finds (with a breath inhaled sharply between pointed teeth) that the young queen needs no enhancement for her avidity. The thin scales of his inner thigh are for more sensitive than the thick armor of the rest of his hide, and the kelpie involuntarily stamps that hind leg in the sand, exhaling the inhaled breath in a low laugh. “I don’t think you are,” he tells her. To a creature most accustomed to being the hunter, Wishbone’s treatment of him makes him feel almost like prey. It is an odd sensation but it is not nearly as unpleasant as he might have thought. If anything, it is kindling to the ever-present hunger, and the kelpie follows her twining figure with heavily lidded eyes. (want. need. wait.) The last is unexpected (he wants swallow her whimpers of innocence until they are cries of wanton need), but he is not one to deny instinct, not this deep into the autumn. Instead he leans into her touch, to the sharp tug of her teeth at his tender ear. His own mouth rests at the point of her shoulder for a moment, sliding up the dark line of her neck until he can taste the rapid flutter of her heartbeat beneath his lips. (mine.) That is familiar. He lingers there for a time, and presses into her the command for stillness as his canines close around the rise of her throat. A wrong move on either of their parts and he might rip out her jugular, but he only wants a taste. Just a small taste, enough to stain his sharp teeth. His eyes close as her blood hits his mouth, a few drops of coppery warmth that smear against his pale lips when he slides his muzzle up the line of her cheek. “I would like to tear you apart,” he murmurs into her dark ear, brutally honest in a way that he has not been before. “But I think you might like it too much.” |
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |