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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]  another day I wake without your touch [Offspring/Any]
    #1

    tantalize

    I’ll have a reason good enough

    I’ll believe in you and trust

    On the day you finally see that the way you treated me

    Was a far cry from love


    It has been months since that night beneath the pale moon and the still ocean. Months since she had pressed her lips to his and promised to see each other again. Months. The moment was still fresh in her mind as if it had been yesterday. The way he had begun to crack her foundation, the fire he had stirred within her dying coals, the way she had clung on to control when it had become too much.

    She had waited by the coast, wondering if he would come. He did not. She had debated going back to the volcano lands to find him but the image of Reagan was still just as fresh and her pride kept her from seeking him. From appearing weak. He has a kingdom to rule and she understands this greatly. Still, she can’t help but wonder if perhaps that night had only been a blip on his radar. It had meant much to her but maybe…. Maybe she had too much baggage after all.

    Instead of seeking him she drifts around Nerine, prowling like the cat she is. Mostly alone. She watches the swell of the ocean rise and break. The sun rise and fall. He never comes.

    The silence is deafening and she can finally stand it no longer. The soft down of her ebony feathers spread as she leaves the coast and heads inland. To her birthplace where her solitude doesn’t seem so bad among the bodies and the rush of voices. The Meadow has the usual mix and mingle of different scents and she becomes lost within them. Her dappled spots make her stand out from the crowd but she doesn’t mind, finding that she doesn’t want to blend in. Not today.

    Golden eyes scan the others for a familiar face, peering discreetly from under the wild tendrils of dark hair. She has come to appreciate Nerine for what it is but it has made her hungry for socialization. Makes her realize that perhaps there were things in her life she was missing. Things that being alone can’t give her. She doesn’t expect to find him there, not when time has passed so quickly between them. She hopes she is wrong.

    When she has given up searching, she instead begins to travel directly through the crowds, in the middle of the land. Where she won’t be missed, where someone is bound to see her and acknowledge who and what she is. The jaguar has grown tired of isolation.



    @[Offspring]
    Reply
    #2
    You're looking at an absolute zero;
    I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
     Time was unyielding, and it would wait for no one.

      He had learned such truth the hard way – and though his own youth remained, it escaped so many others, and he had lost all that he had, time and time again. Love, companionship and even his darkest, most malevolent enemies – all had been lost, and swept out with the wayward, but ravenous tide, swallowed whole by the sea with nothing but sand particles and drifting ashes left in its wake. Eventually, time no longer had any meaning – it carried on, and so did he, and the days became months and the months became years. He stopped counting; he stopped yearning for a life that he could never have – love, most of all, had been intangible for him.

      Time had always found its way into the wise and dying eyes of those who captured his heart, and though he had braved war, famine and destruction in his time, there would always be a small shred of cowardice in the face of mortality. Not his own, but of those he loved.

      It had been a long time since he had felt anything more than a stirring in his loin. His heart had thought itself taken, only to be spurned and rejected for the darkness that lingered inside of him, like a flickering ember within a hearth of white-hot flame. He had given his all, until it had been too much, and then his eye had wandered – and in time, her heart had wandered, too. He would take the blame; he had been selfish and consumed with himself and his own anguish – and the old, familiar wound of his self-loathing had opened again, blossoming into an abhorrence for his own prowess and for his own existence that he had thought deeply buried.

      Her love had been conditional.
      He wondered if it had ever been true.

      Yet, he no longer felt that he had an eternity before him –

      He had begun to feel his bones and tendons ache and creak, and there is a subtle line of age in the crease around his dark, scarlet eyes. The heavy scarring across his breast and along his neck and shoulder had largely been obtained each and every time his heavy, burdensome body had been thrust against the jagged shoreline – each and every time he had tried to drown himself in the restless sea, only to be spat back out, bleeding and broken but mended - again, by the hand of time.

      Perhaps, even for him, the hand of time would stop –
      His mind would drift, to the many years he had lived and all that accompanied them.

      He would think of her, of that distant eve beneath the pale moonlight, with anguish and desire swirling within the golden iris of her gaze, uncertain, unsteady – he wondered if his heart, so often settled and nearly still, thrumming rapidly inside of his chest had meant anything. If the shiver her lips had sent down the length of his spine was truly awakening a fire within him that had not been lit in many years. He wondered if it was too late for him, to find some semblance of contentment, to find someone willing to take all that he is – his past, his present, the darkness and the light.

      And when he does see her, with the soft sunlight shining across her cheek – playing along her telltale markings, tracing the feminine slope of her neck, and highlighting the golden gleam of her eye, he is certain that the unfamiliar warmth he had felt stir in the pit of his belly and the hearth of his chest had not been by happenstance. It had been so long since his heart had been stirred by anything at all that he had forgotten how it felt for a knot to slowly become wound up within his chest, stealing his breath, leaving him faint –

      Fool, he quietly broods. if she cared to see you, she would have sought you.

      But he cannot keep his heavily muscled legs from carrying him to her – and his mind is elsewhere, as his gaze traces over the curve of her hip and the finely preened feathers of her tucked wings, where his blunt teeth gently nip with a soft whuff of air, inhaling the salty brine of the sea that has woven into her skin and into the delicate fold of her feathers. The sun is hot along the broadness of his back, sinking into his flesh, highlighting the puckered pink of his scarring – but he does not mind it, focused rather on her, amusement flickering in his own gaze.

      ”What are the odds of finding you here, so far from home?” he murmurs to her as he finally averts his heavy stare to the gathering before him. It was not often that he wandered from his own domain, but even he grew restless for more than the stagnant humidity and dense, wavering grassland of his volcanic island. The memory of Nayl, scathing and prying into his intentions with Tantalize, resurfaces, and quietly, he is left wondering what Tantalize might say, should she find out that her Queen saw her as little else but a pawn in a game with an adversary.

      But for now –

      ”I wondered when I might see you again,” he confesses to her quietly, gazing to her again, his stare steady along the feminine curve of her cheek. if I might see you again. I hoped that I would.”
    OFFSPRING
    another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.
    Reply
    #3

    tantalize

    I’ll have a reason good enough

    I’ll believe in you and trust

    On the day you finally see that the way you treated me

    Was a far cry from love


    The summer air is dry leaving much to be desired. Already the sun is becoming too warm on her back, forcing her to stretch and arch her wings slightly as if the shade of feathers can protect her. It takes only a moment, when she glances towards the trees and debates heading to the cool relief they offer, that he appears. Like a shadow of a ghost, suddenly his broad figure is parting the others as if they do not exist. Moses parting his Red Sea. Her pulse quickens instantly, her breath catching in her throat. Inside she is panicking, excited. Her exterior says otherwise.

    Part of her is offended and angry. Had she not been worth his time? While she knew what the burden of a kingdom felt like and that it took up most of one’s to do… If he had wanted to see her, he would have. As he had done that night, showing up on the shores of Nerine. Nayl’s visit to Offspring is unknown to her and so she is unaware that perhaps this may be what had kept them apart for so long.

    The other half of her is all fluttering heart and dizzy desire. As he closes in, she can remember the way he tasted on her tongue. The smell of salt and ash. The way the very depths of crimson (so like her father's and yet… so different) had seemed to smolder. Just for her. The flame seems to reignite and as he strides towards her (all dark, brooding, puckered scars and well toned muscle) she can barely contain the sudden urge to touch him again. To explore further, go deeper. How could she admit that she has replayed that moment a thousand times? That she has daydreamed about where that encounter could have gone. What it would be like to finally overcome her past and place her trust in him.

    ”I could say the same for you.” She finally answers, casting her gilded gaze up towards him as she tosses the stray tendrils from her view. Searching into him, looking for some sort of hint of what had happened. If they were to pretend that it had been nothing. Until he gave some sort of sign, she holds her cards close to her chest. Control is all she has left.

    She keeps her eyes on his, unwavering and defiant. Not allowing them to travel along the broadness of his neck, the slope of his shoulder, the scars that tell his story. Instead she keeps to the red line, unwilling to give in so easily to him. Knowing that to wander over his body will only make it harder to keep focus. He claims his hopes to see her again and she nearly snorts with disbelief. Instead, her burning for him festers into a different kind of flame. The one that had kept her a Khaleesi for so long. It would be easier to ask, why didn’t you? Why didn’t you find me? However, she has never been one for being easy.

    ”I had hoped the same. I almost gave up on it.” She responds slowly, still sending golden shards to pierce through the haze of red. ”How is Tephra? Reagan?” She finally asks. Sifting through the sand grain by grain to uncover that which she suspects. All the while fighting every instinct that lures her to move closer to him, to take that which she wants.


    @[Offspring]
    Reply
    #4
    You're looking at an absolute zero;
    I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
     You know where to find me.

      The last words he had spoken to her – each truer than the last; he was never far from the shoreline of the rumbling volcanic island that had become his domicile. His oasis. No longer did he pine for the ice and snow he once did – the heat within his chest had become a part of him, as did the burning ember that licked the surface of his marred skin and festered beneath tender muscle and bone. He could hardly remember the numbness of the frigid tundra he had once called his own – but such was his existence; he had lived for so long and for so many years that so many of his experiences had begun to run together. Blending – a plethora of emotion, of heartache and loss, of illicit pleasure and deep, unshakable anguish.

      The sunlight pouring into his skin is not unlike the inferno that burned within him, and he is hardly stirred by it. Nary a bead of sweat arises along the puckered scarring; he, himself, was sunlight and fire and sheer, blistering heat and he had already begun to forget how it felt to be anything but the brimstone that fortified his broad and muscled physique. Nonetheless, the scalding fire of his pyrokinesis can only pale in comparison to the soothing warmth filling his chest as her soft breath brushes across his shoulder, nor the rousing heat simmering once his scarlet gaze is finally met with her own gold-lined irises.

      He wondered what it would be like to taste her again – to taste her deeper, to draw her closer. Instead, he is stoic, his features unmoving for a moment as his mind contemplates the depth of her gaze, boring into his own, as wayward tresses are tossed aside, framing the feminine line of her cheek. He can feel that she is guarded – he had not expected anything different, though the same yearning to break down the same fortified, barbed barrier remained, burning brightly within the pit of his stomach. Yet, there is a soft bite to her tone - betraying what might lay beneath her own feigned indifference.

      Gently, his lips brush across her shoulder, tasting the salty brine of her sweat with the richness of sunshine and flora, his whiskered mouth tracing a single semi-circle marking that lay over muscle and bone. He does not linger – he can feel her anger through her skin, taut within the thick but shapely muscle, and his gaze searches for hers again imploringly. ”Tephra is as it always has been – and Reagan?” He murmurs with a rumbling chuckle, raising his broad head once more toward the vast and open summer sky, as a soft gust of warm air weaves its way through his tangled tresses.

      ”Her heart had been broken, as mine had been, and for a moment, we found shelter in one another,” he says quietly, the ridge of his brow furrowing slightly at the memory – of the darkness that had consumed him then; of the scalding fire that had emerged from his flesh in the heat of passion that – if not for her magic, might have taken her life. ”she was there during a dark moment. There is nothing more to it.”

      He is quiet, then.
      Contemplating.

      The truth was a burden. ”I have been where I have always been. I took it as a sign that you did not come – and even more, I did not come to you because your Queen came to me in the days following. Accused me of having .. the wrong intentions, in seeking you out, and threatened me. Thought that I only sought to be closer to the Nerinian border for some nefarious reason, and said that she might question your taste, should I be telling the truth that I came to see you, and only you.”

      He pauses, disbelief lining the dark brimstone of his stare – the exchange had left him incredulous – a scoff rising from his tightened throat. ”I did not come to you, because unlike Nayl, I have the capacity to respect the decisions of others. You made the decision to make it your home; what reason would I have to make it more difficult for you? But that does not mean that I did not want to see you again.”
    OFFSPRING
    another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.

    @[Tantalize]
    Reply
    #5

    tantalize

    I’ll have a reason good enough

    I’ll believe in you and trust

    On the day you finally see that the way you treated me

    Was a far cry from love


    The need for control was what kept her from the ashland, from seeking him. Control and fear. What if she had traveled all the way to the volcano only to find herself sorely disappointed. Entangled with Reagan or a stranger. To feel that old familiar sting of being slighted for another. They were not bound to each other, it had only been one night. One night that had been cut short thanks to her ghosts and painful memories. Despite that awkward moment... There had been something between them, something that had sparked. It was real. It had been enough for her to cast her fragile sense of hope to the wind and dream of the possibilities. To see him with someone else would quickly shatter it.

    For all her reservation, claws, and fire…. At her core she holds her sore and tattered heart within her bruised ego. The merest breath in the direction of her flame could extinguish it forever.

    The wall she has built, brick by brick, seems stronger than ever despite the single stone he had been able to chisel away. Almost wary as he reaches for her but inside she is melting like a flickering candle the moment his lips brush across her shoulder. Her gaze falls away from him as she tenses beneath him, unable to keep the soft hitch in her breath as it becomes caught in her throat. Knowing he will sense it. He draws a lazy circle before retreating and she burns for him instantly despite the few embers of her anger that remain. Her prying issues a chuckle from his dark mouth and she can’t help but smile slowly, an involuntary response.

    Her intuition had been right all along, she had never doubted otherwise. Was he being honest when he speaks of it being only one night of finding solace in each other? She’s not sure. The thought of trying to find herself in another after what had happened with Lion… She can’t even picture it. It had never been a thought on her mind, far from it. Then again her layer of pain was different then the simple hurt of a break up.

    They are both quiet, both brooding over different memories and the various baggage they bring. Her thoughts are so lost that she almost misses what he’s explaining to her. It doesn’t register, not at first. When it does, a simmering anger begins to spread hot fingers into her crevices. A flash in the depths of gold as she finds the core of his red, bewildered. ”Nayl?” She questions, confused. Confusion quickly gives way to the rising tide of her irritation that reflects in the gilded iris’s that are now hard as rocks. ”Let me get this straight. Nayl came to you to tell you to stop seeing me?” His disbelief is visible and she does not doubt his truth.

    It doesn’t make sense. Although she has been residing in the coast for awhile, she barely knows Nayl. She respects her as she does for those that carry the burden she knows so well. However, she is not close to the Queen and definitely not enough to be mothered by her. As if she hadn’t outlived most of those that called Nerine home. As if she had not been one of those that had paved the way for the remaining sisters today.

    She tries to find logic in the visit but the fact that Nayl had spied on her in that most private, raw, and vulnerable moment…. The jaguar mare is practically seething. Her golden eyes are glittering as fire and brimstone return and take hold. Perhaps she had been wrong to think her past transgressions had been forgotten. Perhaps the story of Lion had been passed down generation to generation to the point where even strangers thought she could not trust her own heart. That she was capable of only bad decisions.

    As if she had learned nothing in her fall from grace.

    Brazen with the smoldering hearth in her chest, the fire finding her molten gold as her fears are burned away, consumed by her defiant rage. Her lips are pressed to his, drawing him into a deep and urgent kiss. Pulling away only to lip at his cheek and place a firm nip to the hollow curve of his lower jaw. Breathing him in as her muzzle pulls away. The few words she will shed on the subject are flat and hollow.

    ”My decisions are my own.”

    Nothing more is needed to say, she has expressed her thoughts and intentions quite clearly on the matter.


    @[Offspring]
    Reply
    #6
    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.

      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]
    Reply
    #7

    tantalize

    I’ll have a reason good enough

    I’ll believe in you and trust

    On the day you finally see that the way you treated me

    Was a far cry from love


    Her thoughts are still in turmoil, uncertain and confused. Not able to understand why Nayl had interfered so thoroughly in her life, why she held such a grudge against the black stallion before her. True, she had not been there for their heated exchange. However, there is nothing about Offspring that denotes he would hold any lack of respect unless it hadn’t been granted in return. Knowing the heavy burden the crown brings intimately, she can’t understand what it is Nayl sees in him. What she fails to see in him. Yes, he may be dangerous. She can taste it in his kiss, the flickering inferno that licks along her tongue and threatens to burn her alive. Is it always so bad to burn? Isn’t fire cleansing? She needs to be cleansed throughly, inside and out.

    Perhaps to Nayl his fire is terrifying, threatening to wipe her out.
    To her his fire is the temptation of sweet relief, to be freed of her old sins.

    It is pleasantly thrilling to catch him off guard and even more so to have him quickly return her urgency. His moan finds her ears and she is smiling as her lips are still entwined with his. The tattered remains of her heart wave like a banner as they flip inside their bony cage, turning upside down as his heat stirs her coals. Setting her body aflame. He is breathless as she pulls away, not allowing the distance between them to close. She does not protest.

    His lips are on her racing pulse, feeling the way she throbs for him and him alone. A curious shine to the gilded pupils’s as she finds his burning gaze. The way he devours her body with only the crimson of his eyes makes her crave to discover how he would handle her. Her arousal pools between her thighs and for once, and this moment is sweeter then anything, she does not think of Lion. Of laying splayed and broken, wet and bleeding on the ground. Her thoughts are coiled around Offspring like a snake refusing to give up it’s prey. She is ready to burn.

    His lips find the back of her neck, sending warm breath to heat against her flushed skin. She shivers beneath his exploring touch, not from fear but with delight. The summer heat doesn’t seem to bother her anymore as he works his way along her damp skin, unable to keep the soft gasp of need from her throat. The way he tickles between her shadowy feathers, finding her cheek with a lingering fevered kiss. She is not blind to the way he is displayed for her. The remains of her anger still simmer on her surface, mixed with the unbridled desire she feels for him. Desire and more.

    ”I would let you. Again and again.” Her silky words whispered into a curved ear as her mouth brushes gently against it. Drawing along the hard lines of his face, a gleam in the depths of gold. With a snap of her tail and a sharp squeal, she has suddenly taken off from him. Her dappled spots gleaming in the bright sunlight as she lengthens her stride and heads towards the  shade (and privacy) of the trees.

    There is no doubt that he follows.
    There is no doubt that he is behind her when she finally comes to a stop and turns to him.

    And when he reaches her she is pressed against his broad chest, slinking against him as her mouth finds his. As her kiss deepens, as it moves along the muscular slope of his shoulder. As she nips lightly against his sides, plucking at the sensitive flesh beneath his thigh. What she had tried so hard to forget comes back to her so easily, like riding a bike. You never forget. Purring against him, the jaguar mare comes back to nestle her muzzle to the crook of his neck, murmuring his name into the mass of tangled locks that fall there.

    There is only one moment when her fear and grief return, a hollow look in her eyes, a request on her lips. A rare moment where she is raw and vulnerable before him. ”Be gentle with me Offspring.” She whispers, demure with her muzzle tucked to her chest and gaze averted. Trembling lightly as he presses to her, finding herself blossoming beneath his attention. Finding herself ready to be purged.


    @[Offspring]
    Reply
    #8
    You're looking at an absolute zero;
    I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
     
      He can think of nothing else but the simmering fire slowly stirring within him, blossoming into a raging inferno within the hearth of his chest, and he is forced to consciously subdue it – to keep the heat from reaching the surface of his marred skin, and to quiet the ember longing to trace the hard lines of muscle and bone across the length of the broad physique.

      The fire within him is always burning; a flicker dully lit beneath his heart, reminding him of the anguish and suffering he had been forced to endure simply to survive - but the fire that is stoked by the way she is left quivering beneath his fervent, wanting touch, and the soft hum of desire that emerges from her barely parted lips is a fire with more intensity than his own – and when her voice rises, cutting through the heaviness of the stagnant summer air, he can think of nothing he desires more.

      I would let you, she murmurs to him, sultry and laced with desire. again and again - and quietly, he is left wondering if her words are not symbolism with an entirely different meaning.

      He is answered by the way her dark lips brush across his jaw, and the ridge of his cheekbone – his dark and lurid gaze bores into her own, tracing the gleam of gold hidden within. Before he can lean forward to catch her parted lips with his own, she is gone – bounding away from him with a squeal, and he cannot stifle his laughter, watching as her dappled skin is bathed by sunlight and gleaming with delicate beads of sweat, trickling down along her feminine curves, luring him closer so that he might taste the salty brine of her skin along with the dogwood and lotus entangled within her tousled tresses.

      It does not take him long to reach her, his teeth gently placing an affectionate nip along her hip as his long and heavily muscled legs stride toward her, immersing himself within the dense foliage to be closer to her without prying eyes. She has pivoted, pressing herself flush against his chest where his thundering heart lurches forth against its iron confinement, yearning to be closer to her, thrumming vigorously through his veins and surging adrenaline through the length of his fire-laced body.

      Her lips press against his own, and another soft, guttural groan rises from his chest, as the heat of her mouth moving with his rouses him to attention, stiffening with need as the slender curve of her body slides around his own, while her lips and teeth affectionately kiss and bite along the sensitive curve of his ribcage and flank. His gaze has darkened into a smoldering ember of brimstone and fire, following her as she presses her lips against the most intimate parts of him, while he aches to do the same to her, but he is still.

      When she is close to him again, tucked beneath the thick curve of his neck while his name – soft, almost a breathy moan of desire – falls from her parted lips.

      Her scent has enveloped him, and he can sense nothing but her – not the faint beam of sunlight peeking through the dense canopy of maple and pine, nor the gentle breeze caressing his skin and entangling itself within his tangled mane. She is all that he can see, and when she has tucked her chin away from his own, gold-laced irises averted while a gentle plea falls from her lips in a fervent whisper (be gentle with me), he is drawn closer to her while a soft kiss is pressed to the ridge of her jawline – gentle, at first, but then more firmly placed, with the same burning flame flickering within the hearth of his chest for her.

      His head is lowered, then, while the fiery ember of his gaze seeks out her own, holding it steady while his whiskered mouth brushes across her own with a soft murmur of his own. ”I will; I promise you.”

      But his passion for her cannot be contained, and his lips brush along the column of her neck to reach her shoulder, tracing a line of shapely muscle and bone to place soft kisses, feeling her pulse thrum once more beneath his lips. His cheek caresses the slope of her spine, while his mouth is sweeping down along the curve of her barrel to touch and kiss the sensitive skin that lay beneath, to where her own thigh meets her flank, and he can feel her quiver in delight as her breathy moans cause him to throb with desire. He is not hurried – as the swell of her hip is met with his shoulder, his kisses become more deliberate, as his warm breath caresses the most intimate part of her, where she has blossomed and parted for him, and he can very nearly taste her –

    And then he does.

      Her arousal is intoxicating, and he is slow and thoughtful to caress every inch of her, as the reverberation of a deep, raucous moan flutters across her delicate skin. He can feel the subtle urgency of her pressing back against his mouth, delving deeper and closer to her as the heat of his kisses slide up along her thigh and onto her hip with her arousal clinging still to his whiskered mouth as it trails along the ridge of her hipbone. The curvaceous wonder of her rounded rump presses back against his chest, and though he desires to covet her, to take her for his own, he does not – not until the golden gleam of her gaze is boring into his own; until her own desire is made known to him with writhing, quivering need, and he can feel her weight shift as her legs are parted – splayed for him.

      Her name is soft and husky on his lips as he rises to take her, drawing her closer with his forelegs while his weight is shifted, and all at once, she is his, and he is hers – pressed deeply within and filling her, while his lips and teeth press urgent kisses across the dappling of her skin while her name is uttered with deep, throaty desire. He is gentle with her, and his movements are slow and careful, moving with her like the rhythmic ocean tide – to and fro, with huskily whispered sweetness pressed against her shoulder, into the tangled, tousled tresses that carry the scent of the coastline and of palm fronds, enveloping him and bringing him closer to an end. When at last he can feel her unravel beneath him, he, too, falls beneath the undertow of desire with a deep groan of her name, breathless and trembling when brought to completion.

      When he does drop alongside her, his mouth is pressed yet again to her, affectionately tracing the faint ridges of her ribcage as her breathing is slowed, as his own is. Gently, quietly, Tantalize is the name breathed from his parted lips into the entanglement of her mane, drawing her closer and feeling her heart beat in time with his own, sated but desiring to know more of her than he had ever desired anything – or anyone – before.
    OFFSPRING
    another zealot with the weight of the fucking world.

    @[Tantalize]
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    #9

    tantalize

    I’ll have a reason good enough

    I’ll believe in you and trust

    On the day you finally see that the way you treated me

    Was a far cry from love


    He is… Perfection.

    She had always been drawn to the unfixable ones, thinking she could be their salvation. Could mend things that were beyond mending. Thinking maybe, just maybe, she could save them. That was before, before her love was placed in the wrong hands that snapped her heart completely in two. Before it had been stepped on, abused and bruised, and left to fester and rot on the floor in the burning sun.

    She had her own wounds to consider, her own brokenness to contend with. She cares nothing for fixing anyone anymore including herself. Until he came along and dared to unearth her solitude, to wipe the soil away from her decaying coffin. For once she doesn’t want to fix this dark man with the haunted eyes and brooding soul. His cracks and shadows only seem to reach trembling fingers to her own and now she locks her shaking hand to his, letting him pull her into the fire they both need to stay alive.

    The deep laughter that rumbles from his chest brings a strong surge of raw affection for him. She finds that the sound is better than the crashing of the waves against rocks, better than the thunder that follows a summer storm, better then what she had imagined in her dreams.

    That which laid dormant for centuries slowly begins to awaken, drowsy but brought back to life as he stokes her flesh with his hungry mouth. There is tension in her muscles as her body fights to relax, to fully succumb to the pleasure he is offering. As her damp skin clings to his chest, (blazing beneath the soot and scars) and the humidity of the foliage presses in, she is lost in the fever dream he has created. Tilting her head to his as his mouth greedily finds hers, giving in to his need as her own begins to surface. Heart in her throat, sharp gasps of breath as he uncovers delicate spots along her body that she had long forgotten.

    The thrumming of his pulse matching her own as her desire courses through her veins like a wildfire. She had forgotten what it was like to feel flushed and wanton, to move sensually against the strong body of a man. To coax out such a guttural primal response in him and feel the way he hardens against her. Because of her. She could kiss him forever, drown in the blaze of his heat as his tongue moves against hers. The way he covets her lips with his own, the way his teeth finds the sensitive nerves that send tingles of delight further below.

    She is memorized, seeing nothing but red and black as the rest of the world falls away. All that matters is him, the way he beckons to her defeated heart, placing it over the open hearth of his flame. Stirring it back to life. That moment she lays her cards on the table before him (raw and gentle), he holds them close to himself. The few seconds of peace between their passionate kisses, the calm before the storm, where he promises he won’t let her down. There is brief hesitance, still guarded, still unsure if she can fully trust him.

    His lips are trailing along her shivering spine, teeth plucking at the exposed flesh of her ribs, finding the soft skin beneath her thighs. Her moans fall unbidden from her lips, writhing beneath the firm but heated touch as he teasingly works his way to her flank. Her breath quickening, her heart thumping frantically as her own desire begins to climb over the thick wall she has built. Slowly, unable to stop herself, she begins to part herself before him. Lashes flutter, eyes close as she presses into his exploration of her body. He becomes more firm, more possessive, moving ever downward and she is so tense with anticipation. Her tail that had been clamped so firmly loosening slightly as his mouth explores further and further and further…

    As the warmth of his breath heats the most sensitive part of her, she finds she is holding her own breath.

    When his mouth finds the most intimate part of her, she is completely his.

    The unexpected pleasure as he tastes her, she melts beneath his touch. The groan of desire that escapes from soft parted lips is raw and unbridled, her hooves digging into the earth before her as her neck bends and twists, moaning aloud and panting raggedly with the rhythmic movements of his tongue. The vibration from his low hum of lust nearly bringing her to completion alone. Pressing back into him but he is not the only one who knows the ways of her name. Teasing, moving his expert touch to the back of her legs, avoiding that which he knows she wants.

    And she does want it. For no one has ever handled her body so well, had been able to bring her such heat. She is on the verge of begging, brought so close only to be tempted further. Tossing her finely dished head, hazy iris’s of gold finding the burning inferno of red. No words are needed in the sexual nature of her stare. Her tail lifted as she pushes once more against him, teeth bared and gritted as she half growls, half purrs to him. Wet petals parting to blossom before him.

    She had been so afraid of never being able to enjoy sex again. The fear that lingers beneath the sweaty surface of her spotted coat slowly ebbs away as he mounts her. As he slides within her and draws her closer. Slowly she relaxes, slowly she sighs. Molten gold hidden beneath the dark lashes that flutter as she exhales his name softly. Soft sharp cries of satisfaction as he consumes her, covets her, craves and worships her body as the abandoned temple it was. Her name is said with reverence as it is whispered into velvet ears. Raising her head back until it’s pressed against his own, as his teeth pull lightly at the back of her raven mane, placing hard intense kisses along the slope of her neck.

    She knows he is capable of so much and yet he respects her wishes, handling her with care and compassion. The old heat licks and flickers at her core, spreads within her belly, climbs into her chest and rises to her throat. She can hear the waves of the ocean ringing in her ears, smell the salt of his skin mixed with the brine of her own. And then she unravels beneath him, crying out his name as her body convulses and gives in to the way he had moved inside her. In return, he responds with a soft erotic groan of her name and she can feel him pulse within her.

    She is a trembling mess of exhaustion. Giving in to the swelling sea of his ardent touch, fighting the mental battle to overcome her fear. The jaguar mare with her shining spots in the fine sheen of sweat, damp tendrils of ebony clinging to the curve of her jaw as he draws her to his embrace. Murmuring her name into the tangled curls of her mane as she presses her face to his neck and sobs. Not because she is upset, no, because she has never thought she could feel such a thing again. Never thought she could feel like a woman again. Hot tears rolling against the black of his skin, releasing herself from all the pain that had hardened around her heart and blackened her soul. The emotions that roll within her chest are overwhelming and she clings to him as the storm passes within her.

    As the final remains of his flickering flames burn away the destructive residue inside, leaving her reborn.

    Cleansed.


    @[Offspring]
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