[mature] A beautiful face is a mute recommendation - Longclaw

[Longclaw]

LONGCLAW

-I close my eyes, ignore the smoke-

There’s so much to do.

Well, there’s so much he wants to do. Talk, mostly, which is surprising in this instant because otherwise Longclaw would be driven by more base desires. Diorae is a shifter though and this new development is just enough distraction that at first, he doesn’t notice the coy incline of her head. His thoughts are full of lessons to teach her and the days soon to come, days where he can count on a trustworthy horse to defend Tephran shores. Marigold would be a perfect guard (could he but convince the golden girl beside him) and it would mean her stature in their home could be cemented.

He would have his herd, all of them, tucked away together where they belonged.

“Marigold I-” He begins to say, until the inky shape of his lips turns aside to bump against her waiting nose. Claw frowns at first (what more could she possibly want?) and then the sharpness in her pleading eyes makes itself clear to the rutting stallion. Ah, he knows, this look is familiar, but that knowledge does little in the way to stifle his interest. There’s something in her doeish gaze, something in the pitiful curve of her almond-colored eyes and that pout just hovering over heartbreak that gets him every time.

He can’t resist; he won’t.

“You need an anchor.” He breathes huskily, eyes rising to meet her own with silent desire. If the lioness had been unsure before, there was no mistaking his intent now. She was welcome to touch him, should she wish it. He shows her by inclining the warm curve of his mouth down to the shadowy crook of her throat, where he places languid, enticing pecks against her bright skin. “Just like the sight of me brought you back, you need a memory to cling to. Something to remind you that you’re ‘horse’.” He explains with a throaty chuckle, knees unwinding to plant his forehooves firmly into the soil.

The warg rises, a cascade of shimmering blue that ripples with every roll of muscle and unfurls to reveal the handsome picture of a rake. Claw casts his gaze out upon her, over the claimed valleys of her shoulders and the ripe promise of her honeyed hips; he grins with a devilish flare and motions for her to rise and join him.

“I’ve dreamt of the taste of you, how your blood melted over my tongue and mingled into my own.” He moans, easing forward to grab her gently with his teeth - the crook of her hip will do nicely. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.” He growls, hoping to awaken just enough of her primal side that she might understand his longing, his hunger. It could be fun, in that sense. All she needed was a push, or to simply try.

“Let me give you a memory to cling to - one you won’t soon forget.” The stallion smirks, increasing the tension of his grip on her until he can feel the threat of his fangs piercing her skin and then, Longclaw tugs backwards once. His powerful neck strains with the action, allowing him to move forward and greet her supple backside with the rough shove of his thick chest.

No more games, no more hiding.

@[Diorae] always worth it