And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come
All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love
All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love
Insatiable.
Ever since Kirin had, had that first taste of sex he could not get enough. He was an insatiable lover. That thrill of power, of control, of ecstasy, that was everything. The way the body took over and was no longer victim of the minds rationalizations, that was divine. Take, but not until he said. Waiting, waiting until that perfect moment, that precise timing when he would steal their pleasure from them. It was his, it was theirs, but only because he had given it to them. He would never forget the way the face twists, or the body quivers, and he would have it- he would have all of it.
Kirin was not biased either, man, woman, they all could help ease his need for satisfaction. They were all nice, but his favorite was still Nicia. She was not just his lover, she was his fighter, she was the only one that ever made him take it- but not until she said.
And so it is not a surprise when Kirin growls mid tangle, his ears turning at the call of another. A stranger. He reluctantly uncoils, glistening with sweat and panting. Who the fuck is there? A question, one he thinks like a man answering a knock at his door from ill timed company.
Kirin does not come to her on lavender wing, instead he curls around a formation of rock, sliding through the crystalline waters of the shallows. The moon brings a silver glow to their surroundings, reflecting light off his hide and casting a feigned glow. A curious look passes his features, he doesn't remember sending Kult for any mares but here one is. He yawns lazily, peeking at her through heavily lidded eyes, still recovering from his most recent tryst. "Sorry, remind me your name again?" He purrs as he approaches her because she has not yet crossed his border, no, she was being a very good girl.
Ever since Kirin had, had that first taste of sex he could not get enough. He was an insatiable lover. That thrill of power, of control, of ecstasy, that was everything. The way the body took over and was no longer victim of the minds rationalizations, that was divine. Take, but not until he said. Waiting, waiting until that perfect moment, that precise timing when he would steal their pleasure from them. It was his, it was theirs, but only because he had given it to them. He would never forget the way the face twists, or the body quivers, and he would have it- he would have all of it.
Kirin was not biased either, man, woman, they all could help ease his need for satisfaction. They were all nice, but his favorite was still Nicia. She was not just his lover, she was his fighter, she was the only one that ever made him take it- but not until she said.
And so it is not a surprise when Kirin growls mid tangle, his ears turning at the call of another. A stranger. He reluctantly uncoils, glistening with sweat and panting. Who the fuck is there? A question, one he thinks like a man answering a knock at his door from ill timed company.
Kirin does not come to her on lavender wing, instead he curls around a formation of rock, sliding through the crystalline waters of the shallows. The moon brings a silver glow to their surroundings, reflecting light off his hide and casting a feigned glow. A curious look passes his features, he doesn't remember sending Kult for any mares but here one is. He yawns lazily, peeking at her through heavily lidded eyes, still recovering from his most recent tryst. "Sorry, remind me your name again?" He purrs as he approaches her because she has not yet crossed his border, no, she was being a very good girl.
Kirin
son of Khaos
