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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]  here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis
    #21
    little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
    little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
    little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece


    She almost had not thought it possible to replicate what her first time with him had been like. It would be impossible to recreate that kind of slow, simmering tension that only a brand new relationship could build — the fleeting touches in the shadows that eventually culminated in them losing control of all rational thought and emotion. But it had been something beyond a mutual attraction; their souls had become as beautifully tangled as their bodies had been, so much so that even when it was over, neither would ever be able to deny what they had.

    But now, that fire he stoked inside of her was not born of the anticipation of someone new; it was something stronger, something hotter, that spread like flames in her veins at the feel of him. She was irrevocably his, no matter who else had touched her before — by him, she was made clean, and turned into something that could only ever be his.

    She arches beneath the feel of his lips as they trace the line of her spine and the slope of her shoulders, melting into him with a tremulous moan. Her body reacts to his in ways that are beyond her control, in a way that is almost a desperate, silent plea for more of whatever he will offer. She lets him take her to the brink of what she can handle, her want and need for him pulsating intensely, until, finally, she cannot hold steady anymore. The sound of his voice against her skin and the feel of his teeth grasping her tightly seems to trigger her own response, shuddering and trembling beneath him with such ferocity that it leaves her gasping.

    When the last waves of her climax have finally receded, it leaves her weak-kneed and quivering, the long tendrils of her mane clinging to her damp neck. With a turn of her head she reaches to gently run her lips against his foreleg that lay wrapped around her ribs, her mind still lost in a pleasant, numbing fog, and even if she could think of the words to say, she isn’t sure if she had the strength to say them.


    BRISEIS
    underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
    I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind




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