08-10-2016, 09:05 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
Heat. He makes the moisture in his lungs hot. Hot enough to become steam. He exhales and the boiling vapor curls from his nostrils onto her white flesh. His sneer grew as he saw her react to the sudden pain. There was pain, too, deep in his organs because of the unnatural and unnecessary calidity, but it only added to his game, his desire. It was not unlike the gnawing pain that grew deeper, lower down within him; that familiar pain that influenced the majority of his actions. Desire was his true mistress while the Valley was his queen. Love could not be confused with sex after all.
But desire was nameless, without a face, anonymous. He could attach his mistress to any form, any face, any body. And there was one here, so pure, so angelic, so vulnerable. She had come to him, felt his presence, felt his touch and had not fled. Of course she had stated her objective, but had not acted on it. In his book, this would be filed under “want”. There were several chapters in this book, “want” being only one of them. Not his favorite, but that was hotly contested between “need” and “hate”. Both had their finer qualities that he just couldn’t get enough of, but they never coincided to his dismay.
“Angels are easy to spot when they fall into hell, darling” He breathes; the heat still pouring onto the nape of her neck. He turns, enjoying the view of the expanse of fresh, unspoiled territory before him and his dark, resonant laugh erupts at her proclamation. “But you didn’t, did you?”
Sharp. The teeth beneath his lips become carnivorous. He needs the unblunted edges to pierce her pure flesh. As she turns to leave and flutters her achromatic tail his direction he pounces, teeth entering with little resistance into her delicious haunch. The metallic taste overwhelms his senses. It is old, yet new. His mistress tastes like she always has and yet refreshingly unique each time. Blood soaked fangs form a damnable smile as his tongue plunges into the fresh wound, relishing in the taste of her.
After she recovers her breath she speaks her name, but he as little use for it. She is bold enough to demand his as well. He removes himself from her skin, licking the last trickle of blood before departing. He smirks, his teeth still stained red. “Me? My dear, you can call me God.”
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
If you don’t want him to bite her just forget that part!!