Sochi;

[sochi]

Sochi

darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't

Sochi does not feel the things so many of her peers do. She did not grow up feeling such things, did not develop many crushes, did not indulge such whimsical fantasies. For a time, she wondered if she was capable of it all, but then she met Castile. What she feels for him is not easy for her to describe, not easy for her to talk about, but she feels it deep within her. It is a wild feeling, as wild as the two of them are.

It doesn’t yearn for labels or boundaries or rules.

But it does leave her wanting something more.

So she doesn’t play coy when he does finally find her again. Her silver eyes go molten when he pushes into her, his lips on her flesh, and she curls, as agile as the feline into him. “Castile,” she says his name, wondering at how the edges of it are as sharp as he, and she reaches out to let her lips wander down his jaw, nipping just lightly. Her teeth find their way down the muscular curve of his neck, beneath his metallic mane, letting the salt of him rest on her tongue. It stirs a fire in her belly that will not be smothered. It stirs a hunger in her belly that she thinks may never be truly sated.

“I am here now,” she says, although it is muffled against him, more of a growl than anything, the rasp of her voice deepening. She pulls back slightly, feeling the nerves of her on fire, adrenaline looping in her veins. She reaches out and lets the blunt of her teeth pull at the delicate flesh of his mouth. “You’re here now too,” she says, something flashing in her eyes when she finds his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment resting between them. Then there is silence, an almost challenge in it as she feels the heat of him.

playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

@[Castile]