12-17-2017, 05:33 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
It would be easy, so easy, to sink into her embrace. The heat that builds between them would dwarf the boiling tephran volcanoes, Ivar is sure of it. Isobell fits against him perfectly, smooth curves to his rough edges. He presses the side of his face against her ribs, feeling the faint dampness of mingled sea and sweat against his scaled cheek. The kelpie allows her to lead, quiet and complacent as she presses fevered kiss along his neck. The summer has been a dry one, and Ivar has not had time to swim. The fine layer of dust in his scales grates against hers, causing an uncomfortable shiver down the length of his spine. Ivar takes a breath – long and slow – as Isobell whispers that she needs him. The words alone send a far more pleasurable shiver coursing through him, and he presses against her more insistently. One foreleg is half-lifted in the air, ready to run toward the sea. That is where they belong, he knows, where they should truly be. Ivar had asked it from her a half-year ago, but she had denied him. Ivar has thought of that for months, and now here she is, throwing herself at him like his most idyllic fantasy. She is perfection to the kelpie, but she is not the Isobell that Ivar knows. “Has something changed?” He asks instead of hitching his foreleg over her withers. Ivar’s voice is low and restrained, a quiet rumble against her spine as he lifts his head to rest his throat there. “Are you forsaking Nerine for me and the sea?” Say yes, he wants to press into her, but he refrains. Run away with me, he doesn’t say, only me. minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus |