• Logout
  • Beqanna

    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


    [private]  |mature| don't get cut on my edges • jah-lilah
    #8
    Jah-Lilah
    i don’t need anyone else but you
    Can we go all the way together? Please let it be so.


    All her experience in all her various lives still hadn’t prepared her for this, for him. The mare had begun to wonder if the Dragon-King had always been her lover, in each of her past lives, starting with the dawn of time. A stable force in her life, she had been unable to ignore his constant presence for some time now. How many seasons had passed while she dillied about with feigned ignorance at how she wanted him, needed him? The wytch loathe to do the math. But now finally, with no more distractions or disturbances, they will intertwine souls under the watchful eye of the Earth-Mother.

    A dance like none she has ever performed is underway, and the scaled suitor displays the depth of his knowledge of her with every step. They are in sync as if they share a brain, a body, a heart. He entertains her affinity for the courtships rituals to the fullest, and his respect for her old ways makes her heart soar. The mare grows hot, sweat creating dark patches on her fiery coat even though the night is cool and refreshing. Jah-Lilah can hardly contain her growing anticipation for what she knows is coming soon.

    When he comes to her silent call and wraps his body around her, it is like she has never been touched before. The dreamweaver is his, has always been his, will always be his. She gives herself wholly, it is the only way she knows how. His firm grip on her skin causes her to squeal as he nibbles down her side, and as he reaches her flank she swishes her tail and slams a rear hoof into the soft terrain. The anxious energy drives her, longs to escape somehow. Tiny bursts of electricity dart across her coat, as her adrenaline proceeds to flow she finds it more and more difficult to control her voltage.

    The Dragon-King may learn tonight, what’s pleasure without a bit of pain?

    Then comes his own truth. The words spring freely from his lips as if they’ve been there for ages, patiently waiting for their time to come. The combination of his smooth baritone in her ears and his whiskered lips on her rump is more than she can stand, and inadvertently she zaps them both. It is a low-grade shock, and she mumbles a half-hearted apology. The woman had experimented with her electric feel previously, and knows that the pleasurable tingle that follows the initial jolt means she’s dialed in just right. Poor guy, he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

    My witchy woman does not fight him when he pivots and presses his chest to the backs of her thighs. There is no protest when he rises up, front legs snatching her roughly and pulling her to him. There is only compliance and assistance, for she needs him as much as he needs her. She takes on the sawhorse position, bracing herself. Electricity flows through them both as they join souls and create life, the only sounds in the thicket are that of two star-crossed lovers together at last. When he has finished, she too is satisfied, and wraps herself around him, shaking and drenched with perspiration.

    Legs quivering, she lowers herself to the ground and relaxes. A pledge had been made tonight, one unlike any other she had ever experienced. Her mind was at ease, and she is made humble by the amount of himself he has entrusted to her. The exchange was more than mutual. Jah was aware of the challenges that came with loving a monarch, he was not the first royal lover she had taken, but he would certainly be the last. There would be others, younger than her, prettier than her, flashier than her, but none could or would love him like she.

    The red wytch drifts off to sleep knowing there would be no dawn patrol, no early morning recruiting, no sunrise politicking. He would stay with her, for her. No, she would not wake without him the next morning. They would greet the sun together, as one, no longer searching for what was right in front of them the whole time.


    So we’ve said our last goodbyes, because we’ll make it this time.
    sleep pretty darling, do not cry


    @[Amet]


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: |mature| don't get cut on my edges • jah-lilah - by Jah-Lilah - 03-28-2019, 01:41 AM



    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)