She doesn’t know whether it’s the long wait, or whether it’s just him, but she wants this more than she had ever thought possible. Every inch of her yearns for touch, so instead she presses herself closer to the rough rock. It’s both frightening and thrilling, such need. For the first time in her life she doesn’t wish to discard the emotion, but habit makes her hesitant.
She nearly shudders as the rock presses into her skin. The sharp scrap against her flesh reminds her of the way he had pressed into her. She wants nothing so much as to feel him there instead, bone that so carefully guards sensitive flesh instead of rock. But neither is she ready to give in so easily.
Her heart skips a beat when the heat in his eyes banks to a smolder, when his movements become laguid. Almost seductive. Her eyes drop to his lips, lost there for a moment before she snaps them up to meet his gaze. Her skin flashes with heated chills as confusion registers, uncertainty at the sudden shift in tactic.
She stills as he approaches, skin tingling as he brushes a soft kiss along the corner of her lips. Despite all her abilities, all her knowledge, she is blind in the face of such unexpected tenderness. She hadn’t expected it, not from him. Just as she had not expected him to display such care in the face of her grief. It is not something she had ever prepared herself to receive. And it is entirely her undoing.
She quivers beneath his touch, uncertainty stilling her as he trails his lips along her cheek, her neck, until his muzzle is buried in the dark, sleek locks of her mane. She sighs softly then, an acquiescence as her eyes close and she relaxes into his touch. Reaching out almost hesitantly, her lips seek out the curve of his neck, soft and seductive despite the unpracticed movements.
She smiles faintly into his skin, unable to help herself. “Perhaps I am,” she agrees in a soft breathy murmur. “Regardless, it is yours now.” It seems that, no matter how pliant his soft touches might make her, she cannot seem to be anything other than her brazen self.
For a moment, she gives herself over, losing herself in the soft caresses. Reveling in the way desire licks languorous waves of heat across her skin. But when he tilts his head to peer at her, muzzle barely brushing the arched curve of her neck, she is distracted. After a long moment she opens her eyes, the blue fire of hers meeting the dark, playful hunger of his.
She holds his gaze, her own eyes darkening wickedly. After a heated moment, she shifts away, slipping out from his tender touch until she stands in the entrance of the shallow cave. “I shouldn’t have to let you do anything,” she finally declares, her voice husky. “You should just be good to me.”
The challenge in her soft voice is decidedly suggestive. But it’s time he finally learned it was never really her permission he needed.
i see your sins
and i want to set them free
