Their path has been woven together for so long that it's nearly impossible for the king of Hyaline to think of a time before Jah-Lilah. He was a different creature before her, without dragon scales and nihilism. Without confidence and experience. Amet has transformed into an entirely new being under the woman's watchful emerald eye; he had grown into himself and into the ideas he had wished to feed into the world. He had learned love and heartache. He had learned despair and elation. And with each rise and fall of the tumultuous sea, Jah-Lilah had always been there.
But this experience, tucked away together in the red wytch's grotto, is not sullied by the years they have already spent together. Instead, it's enhanced by them. The soothsayer's microexpressions are familiar to Amet, easy to read and enticing. The small grin that turns the corners of her lips is full of guile and sensuality; he knows she's playing a game by hiding away the immensity of her feelings, and it's a game that he is happy to partake in. It pushes his excitement closer to the edge and generates a buzz across his bright dragonhide with each gentle touch or exhale that graces his skin.
And when she quells his worries without hesitation or pause, his own elation erupts into something more primal now that it does not have his uncertainties to hold it back. They melt into each other, molten gold and lava, as they begin nipping and teasing and marking. The gold dust woman's blunted teeth roam over his flank and to his unprotected underbelly, roiling heat in his loins and a greedy desire in his heart. Amet reacts instinctively, his own teeth tugging at the pieces of her that he can reach as he strides forward on lean legs ─ slowly, painfully ─ to reach further and further until the wispy strands of her tousled tail, flung over her croup, brush against his own maw.
"I love you, too, Jah," he tells her swiftly and with no preamble, with no hesitation in his gruff voice or in his own affirmation of truth. He had known it all along ─ it was about time that he say it aloud. And to hear her, his red wytch, speak the words brings him heightened joy that reflects in the fervency of his touch and the heat of his breath.
When he rounds her hindquarters and rises to cover her, he does so with an unbridled primal need. There is no reason for him to be gentle with the wild woman ─ he knows she will give just as she receives, with an unconditional wildness that he has only ever seen from her.
Amet, awash with moonlight and sweat, flags his long tousled tail and settles his weight upon her back as the tidal wave of their pleasure rises together and finally crashes. With her scent mixed together with his, he finally feels sated and contented, knowing full well that they are both finally in the right place.
─ don't get cut on my edges
@[Jah-Lilah] ♥