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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
    #16

    Golden eyes watching our every move
    Losing time without the sun or moon

    For one breathless, eternal moment, he is entirely lost in anticipation. In the tense necessity of hearing her confirm everything she had already said. She couldn’t possibly know how much it meant to him, how badly he needed her admission, her surrender, to be real. It’s so surreal, that moment. As though it cannot possibly be reality.

    But it is. And her soft words confirm it, giving him everything he hadn’t known he’d wanted. He takes it without question then, like a starving man to a buffet. Takes everything she has to offer him.

    There would be no going back. Not this time. He wants those words indelibly stamped into her subconscious, reminding her over and over again that she is his. Only his.

    It’s animalistic, in a way. Primal. But then, Ether had long ago reverted to the primal nature at the center of his soul, when he’d been swallowed by the shadows, the pieces of him bleeding out until only the Ether that stands before her today had been left. So perhaps it is not surprising then, that this is what they come to. That this is what he desires. What he demands of her. What he truly needs. The truth of the beast beneath the trappings of kindness.

    “You’re mine,” he breathes against her, consciously this time. Parroting the surrender, as though either of them need reminding. Everything in him clamors for her, woken by her acquiescence, her submission. Every instinct tells him to claim her, to make her his in the only way that truly matters. Only one minute thread of rational thought holds him in check, reminding him of where they stand. Of the sleeping child so nearby.

    It’s only a matter of steps to the deeper shadow. He presses her into them, lips coaxing, teasing, until he is able to draw the shadows around them. Just enough to shield them from prying eyes, to mute the sounds of Nerine into a gentle whisper.

    Only then does he allow that last thread of thought to slip away, his lips becoming urgent on her skin, trailing her spine and hips ravenously. Wanting nothing so much as to touch every inch of her satin skin, so warm and alive, sensitive to every touch. Wanting only to feel her against him, needing him as much as he needs her.

    ether



    Messages In This Thread
    RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - by Ether - 02-26-2019, 05:08 PM



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