[mature] There's a voice and its trying to drag me down

[Obscene]

Don't look back, nothing left to see
I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin

To look upon her without her wings becomes something unexpectedly intimate, as if she was revealing parts of herself he hadn’t truly seen before. The loss of them exposes so much more of her, a sensual tease of undressing. As the emerald sparks fall around them, as she unveils herself in new ways that he had never thought she would actually do, he is for once completely lost for words. Part of him is mortified at the way she displays herself for him but not because of her. It had always been a fantasy, imaginative images of arousal he had thought of in the darkest of nights when her name was like a drill against his head, unrelenting. He is mortified because there is no hiding how much he wants this, how much he has always wanted this.

It is surreal, nipping at the back of her thigh, feeling the way she trembles under his touch. Not out of revulsion, but pleasure. Not because she is angry with him but because she wants him. As much as he enjoys savoring this view of her, this wild and reckless abandon that shines in her eyes and curls on her lips, as curious as he is to see just how far he can go to bring a plea to that lovely abhorrent mouth of hers… This is only the beginning. There is so much more to see. Only the barest hint of hesitation flickers across his features as their eyes lock, an awareness that once this line is crossed there is no going back for both of them. For the first time in his life… The Dark Fae sees her for what she truly is. What she truly means to him. And he is terrified.

It’s not enough to keep him from her, not when he has ached for her as long as he has. It’s not enough to stop him from rising over the gentle curve of her hindquarters, his forelimbs hooking over where her luminescent wings had once been as he brings her closer with a gentle firmness that is unexpected from the likes of him. He is possessive, firm, but not unkind as he settles over her glowing blanketed backside, blunted teeth at the back of her sinewy neck beneath the lush layers of green (remembering when he had caught her when she had been falling), and exhales sharply when he finally feels all of her around him.

The black of him melts into the black of her and they are nothing but a tangle of glittering gold, windswept green, smoldering red, and sparkling crystal. She wasn’t wrong, when she had considered that consensual magic between them. There is something about her that just coaxes it out of him, a conduit, and wherever his mouth wanders across her exposed skin… It leaves that trail of golden healing light behind. As if his power alone might mend every cut his sharp words had given her, as if it could take back all those years of hurt he had caused. These are still early days for them, there are still walls that they had built against each other, against the world, that would take some time to undo. But near the river, surrounded by the warm summer night and the faint glow from their mutual magic, they start to pull off those protective shields they had worn for so long against each other and tentatively explore what lay beneath.

All that repressed passion, all those feelings he had constantly denied, he releases against her heated flesh. Every touch, every teasing nip, every movement he makes against her supple figure, he is part of her storm now. The warm rush of nectar can’t compare to the throbbing desire she pulls from him, nothing can taste as sweet as the salt of her, that thrumming beat of her pulse against his ravenous tongue. There is dark laughter on his shameless smiling mouth that presses against her neck, a low rumbled moan as he quivers and shudders against her. Murmurs her name again in a way that’s raw, devout, and surprisingly warm. He is slow to remove himself, his muzzle still sparking its golden touch as he runs it against her spine, but finally he does and comes to stand beside her.

There is a sheen to his coat and a unsteadiness in his breathing brought on by their exertion, similar to her own. For a moment, perhaps, she might think he will take off as he has done in similar situations before. He doesn’t. Instead he reaches for her, holds her steady against him as his heart begins to calm its frantic beating against its star strewn cage. A gentle touch against the hollow of her jawline, flushed crimson eyes closed to the world around them as his muzzle explores the wild disarray of her mane, toying with the silky threads he finds there. For the first time since they had returned, he thinks of absolutely nothing but the steady beat of her heart against his and the scent of rainstorms that no longer mocks or taunts him but instead brings a fire to his chest that can’t hold a flame to anything else he has ever felt before.

obscene

@Cheri

*firmly puts smut crown back on*