10-15-2017, 12:33 PM
isobell
The silver of her eyes flash as the waning bits of sunlight greedily envelope her face. A storm was rising and it caused a shiver to goose pimple her skin as though the very thing that powered the thunderhead was crawling up her neck...until she realized it was Ivar when he pulled at a strand of her unruly mane. She turns her head sharply to look over at him with a grin on her lips. The young mare does not really understand what is happening but she finds that her cheeks are aching dully with her smile.
His reply- "If I do," -confuses her a bit. "Have you not been home in some time?" The question is asked despite the possibility of a sting of a nerve but it is she who feels the electricity of his smooth scales against her when he presses against her. It's like a flash of lightening, the sudden burst of a million fireflies. Isobell fears she will stumble, an does so, her slender legs crumpling beneath her slim weight for only a moment but as she looks up to meet his gaze, tossing her forelock away, his eyes...his beautiful eyes...
Isobell stares, her own pewter ones wide and hungry. "Stop resisting..." Her voice is light and so very soft it's as though a ghost has whispered it. She is like the finest silk moving across a warm breeze as she moves beside Ivar, unwilling (and unable) to look away. If she could only die seeing that face she die the sweetest death...
"Ivar?" She barely whispers his name, her voice low and womanly with a craven lust despite the beauty of her youthful features. She moves to close the space between the, pressing against him, her skin searing against his. She reaches to nibble softly at the edge of his jaw, tasting the salt of his sweat and groaning gently, his pheromones making her yearn for something she does not know. The young woman dips her head to brush her cheek against the thick vein of his neck to listen to the sound of his heart beat.
She feels ethereal, floating. It was odd but it felt right. Isobell can only think about her breathing, pacing herself and trying to slow her beating heart, to cool her feverish brow. Suddenly her inquiry as to a brother is no longer relevant and she hoped to be in Loess soon.
His reply- "If I do," -confuses her a bit. "Have you not been home in some time?" The question is asked despite the possibility of a sting of a nerve but it is she who feels the electricity of his smooth scales against her when he presses against her. It's like a flash of lightening, the sudden burst of a million fireflies. Isobell fears she will stumble, an does so, her slender legs crumpling beneath her slim weight for only a moment but as she looks up to meet his gaze, tossing her forelock away, his eyes...his beautiful eyes...
Isobell stares, her own pewter ones wide and hungry. "Stop resisting..." Her voice is light and so very soft it's as though a ghost has whispered it. She is like the finest silk moving across a warm breeze as she moves beside Ivar, unwilling (and unable) to look away. If she could only die seeing that face she die the sweetest death...
"Ivar?" She barely whispers his name, her voice low and womanly with a craven lust despite the beauty of her youthful features. She moves to close the space between the, pressing against him, her skin searing against his. She reaches to nibble softly at the edge of his jaw, tasting the salt of his sweat and groaning gently, his pheromones making her yearn for something she does not know. The young woman dips her head to brush her cheek against the thick vein of his neck to listen to the sound of his heart beat.
She feels ethereal, floating. It was odd but it felt right. Isobell can only think about her breathing, pacing herself and trying to slow her beating heart, to cool her feverish brow. Suddenly her inquiry as to a brother is no longer relevant and she hoped to be in Loess soon.
i'll wait for you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea