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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  There ain't a casket strong enough for me; Jude
    #9

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    She’s a fucking pistol against him. He can almost taste the brief thrill of fear as she recognizes her vulnerability. It only serves to push him harder, and in no time at all he is rewarded with a sudden burst of defiance.

    Fuck yes, that’s exactly what he’d been waiting for. The fight that suddenly fuels her, spurring her to struggle and squirm against him. He hardens almost painfully, heat flashing across his skin as he digs his teeth into her nape, tasting the copper of blood on his tongue. Gods, they’d both be bloodied and bruised by the time this is over. The very thought of it thrills him, sending a pulse of desire along his heated flesh.

    Her teeth roughly scrape his flesh, leaving smears of blood and tender skin that would bruise in their wake. The color is stark against his pale color, a fucking badge he’d wear with satisfaction. Just as the red would darken the pink of her skin. He shoves harder against her, a groan escaping his throat as he scrapes his teeth roughly down her spine, her wing crushed between them. The scent of arousal mixes with the tang of blood and raw flesh.

    She taunts him then, the words hissing into the air, daring him to do just that. He bares his teeth, eyes hard, glittering with a furious desire. “I can fuck you even better.”

    He gives no other warnings. Offers her no second chances. She’d already fucking used them up. She’d get exactly what she asked for. Instead he pulls himself roughly on top of her, hooves scraping and digging into her flesh until he has her beneath him. He isn’t kind or gentle, shoving hard against her until has her in the correct position. As he pushes inside of her, it takes a few tries to get it right, but holy hell, her squirming beneath him is so fucking delicious that he doesn’t give a damn. It’s all the same to him anyway.

    His teeth find her skin once more, scrapping and bruising her elegant back until they find purchase at the joint of her wing, digging into the sensitive flesh there. He slams into her, rough and hard, unwilling to give even a fucking inch. She’d take all of it. Would fucking scream for it, pain and pleasure twisting together until it becomes one.

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    RE: There ain't a casket strong enough for me; Jude - by Ashhal - 12-01-2018, 05:49 PM



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