06-28-2018, 02:28 PM
For a moment the kelpie fears he has misjudged her. The buckskin looks away, her head lowered. Her tails flicks anxiously at her navy blue legs, but then she is looking up. She is meeting his gaze, and Ivar is very much enjoying what he finds there.
The picture brought to mind is one the kelpie finds appealing. Kylin with a colt at her heels and Heda due with one of her own any day, Ivar is their protector and guardian. He can almost taste it on his tongue and then: he does. Heda is pressing herself against him, fervant and demanding. It is an image from his dreams brought to life (and wouldn't the dreamspinner have a wonderful reaction to this particular dream!) and Ivar never considers turning her down.
Her navy blue wing is a shield from the frigid autumn winds, and the tropical-dwelling Ivar is rather grateful. Still, his soft caresses bring their own sort of warmth as he makes his way from her withers to her poll. The emotion - love - that she presses into him with each mirrored kiss sinks down deep. The kelpie does not have this feeling. There is no evolutionary advantage to feeling love, and so the equus kelpus have evolved without it. Yet the receptors for it remain, it seems, minute neurons in his head that Heda can so easily influence.
Ivar sighs into her warm neck, the pale length of his forehead and his pressed against her. "I missed you," he tells her, opening his mouth to say more. Before he can though, Heda speaks again, looking up at him from familiar eyes. I want you, she says, and Ivar has to bite down on Heda's warm shoulder to hold back the profanity. If he does, is not enough to harm her, but rather just enough to mark her, the way he does those he means to keep.
"Of course you do," he tells her when he has control again, and his touch to her neck has become gentler. There is a brightness in his molten eyes; Ivar is rather delighted by this unanticipated encounter and Heda's forwardness. The kelpie has no intention of allowing the blue and gold mare to renege on her request, and as he settles atop her it is with a familiarity that is almost bittersweet. He had missed her, missed her and that inexplicably intoxicating emotion that she wields so easily.
Ivar toys with her, gentle and then aggressive, teasing and then playful. The piebald kelpie wants her to be quite aware of what she has been missing, and he does not hold back. In return for her love-soaked kisses he gives silent commands to feel pleasure and satisfaction, to give herself to him. That last one doesn't end, even as he slips off and rounds her with a gentle press of his muzzle to her navy wings.
"You'll stay with me," he says aloud, simultaneously pressing the command into her mind as well. "And we'll try that again in the water." The coincidence of his children's conception no longer evades him; he'll take Heda again in the sea to be certain of a child, and she'll be happy and content with Kylin and the foals they will bear him, passing the days in their tropical paradise. Yes, Ivar thinks as he massages the base of Heda's withers with a satisfied smile. That will do quite nicely
The picture brought to mind is one the kelpie finds appealing. Kylin with a colt at her heels and Heda due with one of her own any day, Ivar is their protector and guardian. He can almost taste it on his tongue and then: he does. Heda is pressing herself against him, fervant and demanding. It is an image from his dreams brought to life (and wouldn't the dreamspinner have a wonderful reaction to this particular dream!) and Ivar never considers turning her down.
Her navy blue wing is a shield from the frigid autumn winds, and the tropical-dwelling Ivar is rather grateful. Still, his soft caresses bring their own sort of warmth as he makes his way from her withers to her poll. The emotion - love - that she presses into him with each mirrored kiss sinks down deep. The kelpie does not have this feeling. There is no evolutionary advantage to feeling love, and so the equus kelpus have evolved without it. Yet the receptors for it remain, it seems, minute neurons in his head that Heda can so easily influence.
Ivar sighs into her warm neck, the pale length of his forehead and his pressed against her. "I missed you," he tells her, opening his mouth to say more. Before he can though, Heda speaks again, looking up at him from familiar eyes. I want you, she says, and Ivar has to bite down on Heda's warm shoulder to hold back the profanity. If he does, is not enough to harm her, but rather just enough to mark her, the way he does those he means to keep.
"Of course you do," he tells her when he has control again, and his touch to her neck has become gentler. There is a brightness in his molten eyes; Ivar is rather delighted by this unanticipated encounter and Heda's forwardness. The kelpie has no intention of allowing the blue and gold mare to renege on her request, and as he settles atop her it is with a familiarity that is almost bittersweet. He had missed her, missed her and that inexplicably intoxicating emotion that she wields so easily.
Ivar toys with her, gentle and then aggressive, teasing and then playful. The piebald kelpie wants her to be quite aware of what she has been missing, and he does not hold back. In return for her love-soaked kisses he gives silent commands to feel pleasure and satisfaction, to give herself to him. That last one doesn't end, even as he slips off and rounds her with a gentle press of his muzzle to her navy wings.
"You'll stay with me," he says aloud, simultaneously pressing the command into her mind as well. "And we'll try that again in the water." The coincidence of his children's conception no longer evades him; he'll take Heda again in the sea to be certain of a child, and she'll be happy and content with Kylin and the foals they will bear him, passing the days in their tropical paradise. Yes, Ivar thinks as he massages the base of Heda's withers with a satisfied smile. That will do quite nicely