10-24-2018, 06:31 AM
In case anyone is stalking, this thread is marked mature and this post probably has details not everybody wishes to read. Contains limited violence(?) and definitely 18+ text. Proceed at your own risk.
Of course, he notices her deep inhale upon release, strangely satisfied by the effect, but then she also grunts, and he knows how much the break annoys her. Ah, well - he’s always annoying, one way or the other, and he finds the little sounds she makes quite adorable in fact, so he just smiles a little behind her back and otherwise pretends not to have noticed.
She takes some time to react to the little reassurance he gave her, a deep-rooted promise on his side, and he wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have; maybe she didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d done. What they’d done, in fact, though his part was decidedly the largest. And he couldn’t find it in himself to blame her for causing the trouble, when all she’d done was run from something that had slightly scared her.
All he ever wants is for her to be happy and safe.
Her return is just that; I love you, a phrase he had never expected to hear only a year ago and he can only hope to coax it out of her so many more times. Rubbing his head against her shoulder, he grins against her hide for nothing in particular, it’s just one of those stupid smiles that she manages to get from him whenever she gets entirely cute and adorable.
She talks more, and he lifts his head to look at her when she demands he doesn’t speak to her with words - not any more. But it’s the small bite that seems to be an activation button; in an undecided reflex, his teeth sink into her withers once again, this time though he is less inclined to let go.
He manages a forced release though only after a few heartbeats. There’s a drop of blood now from the sharpness of his teeth, and he kisses it away smoothly, hoping that wasn’t too much.
As if trying to make up for that, and for the break and making her wait, he trails over her skin again. This time more ruggedly; not as smooth as he might have in the past, there is less control in those motions - instead some kind of need and want is fuelling him. He finds a soft spot on her underbelly, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin, trails up to her tail end, and decides she could use a small nip there like she did to him before. A kiss somewhere along her spine. A playful push ad hot breath right behind her ear. Did he get to all her soft parts yet, no wait, he lowers his head and tucks himself under her neck, evidently lifting her head with his own, to suddenly take a small nip at the middle of her chest where her neck and shoulders come together in a small triangular place that’s sensitive and vulnerable - between the places that are otherwise protected by muscle or bone.
He uses this as an opportunity to slide towards her other side which he hadn’t, “loved” on, so much yet. It’s the side that had been pressed against himself instead of the rock earlier, and from which he had approached to hug and slightly crush her, but otherwise, was still totally whole. Hmm. Question is does she want to keep it that way? He rubs his head along her side, but frankly, he decides he doesn’t want to, because he has another goal in mind, and continues to move towards her haunch instead, adding one last teeth mark there. He knows the scales that slide alongside her are probably rough enough to evoke enough certain sensations, knows that if she ends up fully bruised and bleeding she might not appreciate it later, and thinks she needs a relatively whole side to present to the world on whatever diplomatic meeting she has next (but honestly, he wants them to know she’s marked and she’s his even though she might not like him to have such a possessive thought). He has no rights and yet she keeps giving him permission (or maybe if she didn’t, he may or may not have ignored any protesting sounds she makes because he knows that deep down she wants to explore the feelings, too), and by now, he is too far gone not to go through with any of it.
He rounds up behind her, simply snaking alongside and behind her as if maybe he wants to make another circle around her, and he wants to, for a moment - but there’s another intake of breath, of the scent of her, or maybe it’s the feeling of her warmth radiating from her skin, or the memory of her saying don’t let go because she liked his pressure upon her and the way he’d pulled her head back. Either way, the decision is made split-second, and he lifts himself on his legs and turns, grabs her strongly between his forelegs, gets a hold on her mane, and easily finds the spot to enter her. It’s just one fast and needy thrust, for starters, and as far in as he can get, but it’s enough to make him close his eyes a heartbeat, and slightly shudder against her despite how much he wants to do it smooth and just right for her; this feeling of her, in every bit of him, it overtakes him and he just lets it; under the softer and only lightly scaled parts of his own belly, surrounding her as much as he can - he rubs his head against her shoulder for the moment that should last an eternity, though he knows that it will not.
All fired-up and needy, he then just takes what he wants, starts the movements that he knows so well and yet are new, with her it’s different, with her he’s whole, and he gets to be more rough with her than he ever had been before with anybody else, is clinging to her body like he’s drowning and she keeps him afloat, like he’s falling and she’s the only thing he can cling to to preven sudden death; the rough-scaled hide on his legs or the hooves he desperately uses to keep up with her, may sting her precious skin. But it had already been broken in places, and he knows she’ll heal, or forever be marked his with a few scars and he can’t honestly mind about that right now.
All his movements inside her are needy, and wanting and near the point of desperation; but when he opens his eyes and sees her crest he lets go of her mane. A bold and daring move, in the heat of passion or jealousy or both, he sinks in his teeth where less than a year ago, another had claimed her hide and skin. He can’t bear the scar, the mark of another, not right now, not when he’s finally having her all to himself. And maybe she’ll yell. Maybe be she‘ll buck (which would just be working for him, with the way they’re aligned now). It may be too painful and she may get entirely angry. But it’s too late. He’s got this hold on her now, has his teeth and his body as much inside her as he can muster, and when he can’t bear the pressure and pleasure building any more, it’s with a tremble and a shocking body and a gasp for breath that he releases her crest, spills himself inside of her, and shakily sinks his weight on her spine because he can hardly keep standing upright. Gasping for air flows into heavy breathing as he rests his head on her shoulder, and loses the tension in his legs so that it becomes more of a slightly awkward-positioned dead-weight hug instead of such a strong and clingy hold from before. His mind still foggy, until he realizes the damages he’s done, blood trickling down her neck, and he blinks as if waking up all of a sudden. It takes all the strength he can muster to lift his head and touch her neck below the new wound he’s made over the old one, assessing the damage. Though he hasn’t torn muscle or skin apart, the incisions are deep and clearly from a much sharper, more pointy set of teeth, surrounding the old scarring tissue. With a sigh, he breathes against her neck, not really wanting to let go. But he knows he’s heavy on her, and judging by the way she’s breathing, he might be better off giving her some space, and starts unwillingly on the backwards move to pull out and set her free once more.
@[Breckin]
Of course, he notices her deep inhale upon release, strangely satisfied by the effect, but then she also grunts, and he knows how much the break annoys her. Ah, well - he’s always annoying, one way or the other, and he finds the little sounds she makes quite adorable in fact, so he just smiles a little behind her back and otherwise pretends not to have noticed.
She takes some time to react to the little reassurance he gave her, a deep-rooted promise on his side, and he wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have; maybe she didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d done. What they’d done, in fact, though his part was decidedly the largest. And he couldn’t find it in himself to blame her for causing the trouble, when all she’d done was run from something that had slightly scared her.
All he ever wants is for her to be happy and safe.
Her return is just that; I love you, a phrase he had never expected to hear only a year ago and he can only hope to coax it out of her so many more times. Rubbing his head against her shoulder, he grins against her hide for nothing in particular, it’s just one of those stupid smiles that she manages to get from him whenever she gets entirely cute and adorable.
She talks more, and he lifts his head to look at her when she demands he doesn’t speak to her with words - not any more. But it’s the small bite that seems to be an activation button; in an undecided reflex, his teeth sink into her withers once again, this time though he is less inclined to let go.
He manages a forced release though only after a few heartbeats. There’s a drop of blood now from the sharpness of his teeth, and he kisses it away smoothly, hoping that wasn’t too much.
As if trying to make up for that, and for the break and making her wait, he trails over her skin again. This time more ruggedly; not as smooth as he might have in the past, there is less control in those motions - instead some kind of need and want is fuelling him. He finds a soft spot on her underbelly, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin, trails up to her tail end, and decides she could use a small nip there like she did to him before. A kiss somewhere along her spine. A playful push ad hot breath right behind her ear. Did he get to all her soft parts yet, no wait, he lowers his head and tucks himself under her neck, evidently lifting her head with his own, to suddenly take a small nip at the middle of her chest where her neck and shoulders come together in a small triangular place that’s sensitive and vulnerable - between the places that are otherwise protected by muscle or bone.
He uses this as an opportunity to slide towards her other side which he hadn’t, “loved” on, so much yet. It’s the side that had been pressed against himself instead of the rock earlier, and from which he had approached to hug and slightly crush her, but otherwise, was still totally whole. Hmm. Question is does she want to keep it that way? He rubs his head along her side, but frankly, he decides he doesn’t want to, because he has another goal in mind, and continues to move towards her haunch instead, adding one last teeth mark there. He knows the scales that slide alongside her are probably rough enough to evoke enough certain sensations, knows that if she ends up fully bruised and bleeding she might not appreciate it later, and thinks she needs a relatively whole side to present to the world on whatever diplomatic meeting she has next (but honestly, he wants them to know she’s marked and she’s his even though she might not like him to have such a possessive thought). He has no rights and yet she keeps giving him permission (or maybe if she didn’t, he may or may not have ignored any protesting sounds she makes because he knows that deep down she wants to explore the feelings, too), and by now, he is too far gone not to go through with any of it.
He rounds up behind her, simply snaking alongside and behind her as if maybe he wants to make another circle around her, and he wants to, for a moment - but there’s another intake of breath, of the scent of her, or maybe it’s the feeling of her warmth radiating from her skin, or the memory of her saying don’t let go because she liked his pressure upon her and the way he’d pulled her head back. Either way, the decision is made split-second, and he lifts himself on his legs and turns, grabs her strongly between his forelegs, gets a hold on her mane, and easily finds the spot to enter her. It’s just one fast and needy thrust, for starters, and as far in as he can get, but it’s enough to make him close his eyes a heartbeat, and slightly shudder against her despite how much he wants to do it smooth and just right for her; this feeling of her, in every bit of him, it overtakes him and he just lets it; under the softer and only lightly scaled parts of his own belly, surrounding her as much as he can - he rubs his head against her shoulder for the moment that should last an eternity, though he knows that it will not.
All fired-up and needy, he then just takes what he wants, starts the movements that he knows so well and yet are new, with her it’s different, with her he’s whole, and he gets to be more rough with her than he ever had been before with anybody else, is clinging to her body like he’s drowning and she keeps him afloat, like he’s falling and she’s the only thing he can cling to to preven sudden death; the rough-scaled hide on his legs or the hooves he desperately uses to keep up with her, may sting her precious skin. But it had already been broken in places, and he knows she’ll heal, or forever be marked his with a few scars and he can’t honestly mind about that right now.
All his movements inside her are needy, and wanting and near the point of desperation; but when he opens his eyes and sees her crest he lets go of her mane. A bold and daring move, in the heat of passion or jealousy or both, he sinks in his teeth where less than a year ago, another had claimed her hide and skin. He can’t bear the scar, the mark of another, not right now, not when he’s finally having her all to himself. And maybe she’ll yell. Maybe be she‘ll buck (which would just be working for him, with the way they’re aligned now). It may be too painful and she may get entirely angry. But it’s too late. He’s got this hold on her now, has his teeth and his body as much inside her as he can muster, and when he can’t bear the pressure and pleasure building any more, it’s with a tremble and a shocking body and a gasp for breath that he releases her crest, spills himself inside of her, and shakily sinks his weight on her spine because he can hardly keep standing upright. Gasping for air flows into heavy breathing as he rests his head on her shoulder, and loses the tension in his legs so that it becomes more of a slightly awkward-positioned dead-weight hug instead of such a strong and clingy hold from before. His mind still foggy, until he realizes the damages he’s done, blood trickling down her neck, and he blinks as if waking up all of a sudden. It takes all the strength he can muster to lift his head and touch her neck below the new wound he’s made over the old one, assessing the damage. Though he hasn’t torn muscle or skin apart, the incisions are deep and clearly from a much sharper, more pointy set of teeth, surrounding the old scarring tissue. With a sigh, he breathes against her neck, not really wanting to let go. But he knows he’s heavy on her, and judging by the way she’s breathing, he might be better off giving her some space, and starts unwillingly on the backwards move to pull out and set her free once more.
@[Breckin]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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