I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Ahhh, but falling is the fun part. He should know. There is something about the chase and the conquer that is as thrilling as the rush of battle. The thrumming of hot blood in his veins, the pricking of his skin, and the hyperfocus that sharpens his senses in the moment is the same. Fucking intoxicating.
He can feel the way she relaxes into his touch, her resistance fading beneath the tender caress of his lips. “Mmmmmm,” he rumbles, muzzle pressing against her skin as the groan vibrates from him. He shifts his dappled body closer to the pale white of hers, until not even a breath is left between his lean, muscular frame and her softer, more feminine one.
“Yeah?” he murmurs in response to her breathy statement (still filled with half-hearted resistance, but damned if they weren’t getting somewhere). He rubs his lips against the silken skin of her neck, dark eyes gleaming with wicked delight. “Oh, but I think I’m getting what I want just fine without it, love.”
She drops her head then to rub an imaginary itch upon her leg, but this does little to deter Ashhal. Hell, she could probably wallop him one right then and it wouldn’t fucking deter him. Instead he traces his muzzle along the fine line of her neck until he reaches her exposed withers. There he nibbles lightly at the delicate, sensitive spine just beneath the tangle of her mane.
He might not be good at much, but he’s damned good at seduction. And if she gave him but half a chance, he’d have her as putty in his fingers. Or hooves. Whatever. Semantics.
Warm breath fanning her pales skin, he places a tender kiss against her shoulder before withdrawing slightly. Withholding his touch, a demonstration of what she would be missing. “Ilma, love,” he breathes, voice rough with want. “Tell me to stop and I’m gone.” Inhaling sharply, her scent filling his lungs, he pauses a moment before finishing the thought on a growl. “But if you don’t tell me to leave right now, you’re mine.”
