you have forsaken all the love you've taken
sleeping on a razor there's nowhere left to fall
She murmurs her version of consent and he hardly hears her. Asking had already been more of an act, a twisted kind of formality rather than a true concern. He was not one to ask, was much more prone to just taking, but there was a part of him clinging to this idea that he should treat her differently.
Yet he doesn’t.
His mind is already a haze, intoxicated and buzzing with want for her, and he falls back into his old patterns. This time when he sinks his teeth into her hip he is nearly ruthless. His teeth are not sharp but he knows they will still bruise the satin of her night-sky skin, when he uses the grip he has on her to nearly drag her into place.
He releases but only because his teeth now seek her withers, and then her neck as he pulls himself on top of her, and then inside of her. He does not bother to hide the groan that builds in his throat once he is enveloped by the warmth of her, no longer able to control the inferno that boils to the surface of him.
He has never been gentle, and he does not tame himself for her.
His lips and teeth leave heated touches and sharp bites against her neck and shoulders, his knees gripped against the delicate curve of her ribcage. Somewhere above the waves of lust and need he recognizes that she is beautiful, that she is far more wild and powerful than any he has taken beneath him — that she may actually be his match, the one to push and pull against everything that he is, the one with the power to send him to his knees.
But in this moment he lets himself get drunk off the brief power he has over her, the ability to control the rhythm at which he takes her, to use his teeth to pull her further into him with each move he makes. He reaches, teeth grazing a hot trail down her throat, his dark skin now sleek with sweat, before his body begins to shudder with his release. His mouth finds the curve of her shoulder with another groan, and there is a moment where he grips her tighter, his breathing ragged and hot against her skin.
He slides from her, languid but still humming with the residual high. He presses a kiss to her damp side where he had bruised her with either his teeth or his hooves, he isn’t sure anymore. “Stay with me,” he says, throaty and almost sweet, another demand posed as a request.
Dacian
your body's aching, every bone is breaking
nothing seems to shake it, it just keeps holding on