10-04-2017, 12:46 PM
Canaan
And maybe, I'll find out a way to make it back someday.
To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.
To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.
He does not argue when she brushes away his gratitude – the seed has been sown, and she knew how he felt; who was he to question her humility? It only endeared her to him, and his lips press against her jaw, her throat – tasting the steady, thrumming pulse beneath – but soon she is rising to the sky, a trill of excitement in her voice, and he can hardly contain the throaty laughter from bubbling up. She is a tempestuous hurricane and he, her wild and unwieldy gale-force wind, and his teeth brush and nip across the fleshy round of her hip as her scent envelopes him, pulling him closer to her again.
It is a delicate dance, as old as time – but he does not take the sway of her hip, nor the huskiness of her nicker, voicing her desire to him for granted. He longed to covet her, but only her and Circinae – his desire went no further, wanting no one else, and as she has come to yearn for him, he has come to long for her. His mouth caresses her hip, the base of her spine, tasting her deeply and wholly with a steady beat as the warmth of the summer sunlight dances across the scarlet of her and the goldenrod of his own. She is salty and sweet, laced with wisteria and evening primrose and thistle – he could get lost in her, drive her to the brink of madness with his mouth dancing across her skin, if her voice did not draw him out of the reverie of his whim.
”I do know,” he mumbles huskily as her teeth rake slowly across his skin from the base of his withers, above the line where the hollowed bone of his wing is carved into him and down to his tender underbelly. The arousal is pooling and he is enamored with her, instinct awakening with him as the roundness of her hip brushes across his shoulder, tempting her to complete her as he knew she would complete him. ”I need you,” he murmurs across the flesh of her thigh as his cheek brushes across her leg and up along her dock, as his long and muscled legs sidestep and align with her own body. ”I want you.”
His nostrils flare across the crimson of her skin as his teeth nibble and brush across her hip, and within seconds he is rising, mounting her, coveting her and sheathing himself with her. His legs draw her closer to him, enveloping her as she had come to envelope him, and he is lost with her – lips pressing fervent kisses along the nape of her neck; teeth gripping her withers with an urgency. Soft breathy moans of her name and the hushed confession of his need for her brush across her shoulder, muffled as a guttural sigh releases himself (only once she has found her own, writhing and moving with him, like the ebbing tide of the ravenous sea), sowing the seed of what would blossom into a son or a daughter – a love to be shared; to tether him to her and her to him.
And when he is finished, after he tenderly kisses her hip and lavishes her in affection, he takes her again, bringing her and their union to completion. After, his chest heaves and the wind becomes heavy around them, drawing her closer to him as his lips and teeth lovingly caress her neck and jaw where a sheen of sweat now lay, not unlike his own. ”You are the lightning to my storm, Jah-Lilah – I will be the wind to carry you, if you let me.”
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all,
then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.
then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.