10-15-2017, 01:45 PM
You're looking at an absolute zero;
I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
He can feel her shift and move beneath the featherlight touch of his lips pressed against her shoulder, breathing in her scent, feeling the muscle beneath tense – and when there is a breathless hitch in her throat, he can sense it, as if it were his own breath becoming caught. For a moment, he is left wondering how it might feel to press fervent kisses into the intimate crook of her thigh, along the rounded curve of her hip – or how the reverberation of a moan might feel against his own marred skin, as his lips travel the ridge of her jaw, tasting her pulse thrumming against his tongue. He can feel the heat of desire pooling in his groin at the thought of it, and he pivots his attention to the gold lacing of her irises, studying the swirl of emotion that linger within.I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
When he is met with a smile (fleeting though it is), he is pleasantly surprised, and there is a slight uptick of a smile tugging at the corner of his own mouth. He can sense the uncertainty roiling within her – she may be heavily guarded, but she cannot keep her emotions from reaching the depths of her gaze, and it is her gaze that he is determined to hold steady while his own lips are tightly sealed. There was nothing more to say on the matter; the loneliness of his affliction had been too much and he had made a decision that had sealed his own fate and the fate of a love he once held close to his heart.
She had spurned him, flinched away from him when he yearned for her closeness, frightened, despite what still lay beneath the heavy darkness of his torment. When he began to feel isolated and deeply alone, he sought the affection of another – the soft, whispered encouragement while he coveted her, planting his seed deep within her womb, while the vehement darkness of his power fought him for control, threatening to consume all that he had become, all that he was.
She had seen in him what no one else had – that deep within, he still lingered beneath the darkness, and if he welcomed the darkness, if he harnessed the firepower roaring angrily within him, the darkness would no longer take hold of him. In the end, what she desired of him, he could not give. Nothing good had ever come from giving his heart away – it always ended up battered, bruised, broken; just as her own had – and though he is forward with her, desiring her, wanting to be closer to her, he is (at the core) as timorous and as apprehensive as she is.
Her incredulous expression is met with his own of grim certainty, as the hefty weight of his truth is settled between her shoulders. ”She did,” he murmurs, as the shadow of his scarlet gaze traces the furrowed ridge of her brow, the slender slope of her muzzle, where dark lips and pale teeth lay.
”I can only assume she sees me as a threat. I hold an alliance with Hyaline, with a King that broke free of the Nerinian stronghold, and she does not care for me, nor for him. But I do not care to take anything from her, nor do I care for her power – I have enough,” he pauses, his gaze peering to the distant northern shoreline, where Tephra lay beyond the horizon. ”Tephra is all that I need and want. I came to see you, and only you, but she refused to believe it.”
She is quiet – too quiet, festering in a growing inferno of rage as the tender muscle beneath her russet skin quivers and shakes with the sheer adrenaline coursing through her body. The gears within her mind are turning, and when the warmth of her lips is pressed flush to his own, he is taken aback, but a soft moan of approval rises from the sudden tightness of his throat. Deftly, her mouth moves against his, stirring his quiet and steady heartbeat into a thundering frenzy, thrusting raggedly within his chest, while a slow traveling heat traverses the length of his spine. When she breaks free, to brush her lips across his cheek and to place a well-intentioned nip along his jaw, he is aroused, drawn closer to her and breathless.
My decisions are my own.
”As are mine,” he murmurs huskily against the curve of her throat, while his whiskered mouth caresses the column where her heated pulse lay under dark, dappled skin – a part of him he had thought buried and dead brought to the surface. He does yearn for her, to cover her and to place warm, ardent kisses between each feminine curve, to taste the heat of her arousal beneath his lips, but it is more than that. He is drawn to her like a fluttering moth to a fickle flame, magnetized – and for a brief, ephemeral moment, he is left wondering if there might be the promise of something more within the heat of her kiss, within the alluring pull of her clandestine presence.
His teeth gently caress the ridge of her neck, brushing the broadness of his dark cheek across the entanglement of tresses, inhaling her scent, while his beating heart is pressed flush to her shoulder while his lips travel the length of her spine (careful to not follow it too far, traveling back up to the base of her spine, where he can feel her shiver beneath his touch). His is aware of the summer heat, enveloping him, stirring beads of sweat across the surface of her skin while the surface of her finely preened feathers is warmed to the hollowed bone, and with it, her pheromones are calling to him, drawing him closer and causing him to stiffen with need, but he resists – instead turning cheek and pressing a soft and warm kiss to her jaw, longing to chase the shadow of uncertainty from the half-lidded intensity of her heated gaze.
Wanting her to see that he wanted her, but for more than what carnal desire could satisfy.
”I want to see you again. And again, if you’d let me.”
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.
@[Tantalize]