03-10-2019, 12:06 AM
The call of the stallion is irresistible.
When Litotes falls, he falls hard. Into an abyss so deep and dark that even at their widest his eyes can not adjust. The lust is overpowering, a stench hot and wet not unlike the smell of rotting flesh. He thinks it funny how life and death are so similar, how they can be born of the very same actions. In his trench of thoughts no familiar face comes to him - Kensa, Brunhilde, so on . . . all family and friends remain absent.
Alone, so alone with just his thoughts and a sexy force of a man.
Nihlus stands as a sinister statue, smoldering with a desire different from Lie’s but equally matched. The cremello returns the smile, though the undetected guilt is absent in his; in the ditch he has fallen into, most emotions do not exist. Here lies a release, a trap, irresistible in appearance and scent. Something that feels alive and squirms and is so starkly different from the numb anger of before.
Between the opposing stallion’s thighs protrudes an arousal the lion man has never met before. A brow cocked and a feline purr in the back of his throat, he shifts closer, eying the teasing gaze of his counterpart. They both desire what dangles so tantalizingly between them: sex. Their chemistry is apparent in the way their individual dances mimic one another - lucky that their primal pheromones match up so easily in a chance encounter.
The sharp canine’s of a lion reveal themselves, tucking Lie’s bottom lip beneath them. If his whole mind was lost, he would drool; alas, the drama of such an action is lost to the racing thoughts of his titillation.
Nihlus’ next statement comes as a gentle surprise. His brow remains raised and smile appears to match the arrogant way the dom presents himself.
“So is yours.”
The response came without a thought, short and sweet - the cremello feeling as if their encounter required no fluff. He takes a single step forward, then another, each move growing more confident as he draws closer. The dark bay of the other gleams menacingly as his scent overtakes all of Litotes’ senses.
Drunk, he thinks, I am so drunk.
And in those thoughts he makes a drunken man’s move, pressing hot and greedy lips to the taller jawline before him. He stops his hungry trail at the dom’s ear, breathe hot like a summer’s humid wind against his skin.
“Do you want me to beg for you?”
Yes, the cremello thinks, knowing that he will be taken with no mercy. Down Nihlus’ nape his trail continues, this time with predator’s teeth pressed into his skin. He bites with no thought of the other’s pain, hoping for the metallic taste of sensual blood in his mouth. He stops at the crest of the other’s hindquarters, not daring to go further without permission. His topaz eyes dare a glance to Nihlus’ piercing blue ones, that heated need spreading like fire between them.
@[Nihlus]
When Litotes falls, he falls hard. Into an abyss so deep and dark that even at their widest his eyes can not adjust. The lust is overpowering, a stench hot and wet not unlike the smell of rotting flesh. He thinks it funny how life and death are so similar, how they can be born of the very same actions. In his trench of thoughts no familiar face comes to him - Kensa, Brunhilde, so on . . . all family and friends remain absent.
Alone, so alone with just his thoughts and a sexy force of a man.
Nihlus stands as a sinister statue, smoldering with a desire different from Lie’s but equally matched. The cremello returns the smile, though the undetected guilt is absent in his; in the ditch he has fallen into, most emotions do not exist. Here lies a release, a trap, irresistible in appearance and scent. Something that feels alive and squirms and is so starkly different from the numb anger of before.
Between the opposing stallion’s thighs protrudes an arousal the lion man has never met before. A brow cocked and a feline purr in the back of his throat, he shifts closer, eying the teasing gaze of his counterpart. They both desire what dangles so tantalizingly between them: sex. Their chemistry is apparent in the way their individual dances mimic one another - lucky that their primal pheromones match up so easily in a chance encounter.
The sharp canine’s of a lion reveal themselves, tucking Lie’s bottom lip beneath them. If his whole mind was lost, he would drool; alas, the drama of such an action is lost to the racing thoughts of his titillation.
Nihlus’ next statement comes as a gentle surprise. His brow remains raised and smile appears to match the arrogant way the dom presents himself.
“So is yours.”
The response came without a thought, short and sweet - the cremello feeling as if their encounter required no fluff. He takes a single step forward, then another, each move growing more confident as he draws closer. The dark bay of the other gleams menacingly as his scent overtakes all of Litotes’ senses.
Drunk, he thinks, I am so drunk.
And in those thoughts he makes a drunken man’s move, pressing hot and greedy lips to the taller jawline before him. He stops his hungry trail at the dom’s ear, breathe hot like a summer’s humid wind against his skin.
“Do you want me to beg for you?”
Yes, the cremello thinks, knowing that he will be taken with no mercy. Down Nihlus’ nape his trail continues, this time with predator’s teeth pressed into his skin. He bites with no thought of the other’s pain, hoping for the metallic taste of sensual blood in his mouth. He stops at the crest of the other’s hindquarters, not daring to go further without permission. His topaz eyes dare a glance to Nihlus’ piercing blue ones, that heated need spreading like fire between them.
@[Nihlus]
