Moonlight ripples on the disturbed water, breaks into a thousand shining pieces, never settling into an accurate mirror of the perfect orb in the sky. With bates breath she waits for him to surface, her black eyes glinting sharply but her mouth remaining hard. When he comes up, comes toward her, she still her flicking frosted tail, takes only a few shallow breaths.
He is not running.
He is not leaving.
There aren't words to describe the unexpected catching of her breath, to detail the way she moans when his kiss at her throat sends fire through every fiber of her being. She sees stars overhead that are not there, almost imagines there are two moons, feels her heartbeat in the way the water laps at her sides. Any part of him she can reach she does, presses hot kisses to his skin between painless rakes - marking, scarring (claiming?) - his neck and throat. There is no hesitance in her now, her earth-bound climax forgotten in her desperation for more, for another, for him.
This is new. This is strange. This is frightening.
There is no time to fear, no time to think, no time to react even before he is shoving her beneath the water, before his kisses become bites and his hunger for her becomes hunger for her blood.
She could be gone in the blink of an eye, a hundred thousand miles away, and yet she remains. The water around her is murky, but the moon is full and she can see the way her red blood clouds it even further, knows she could taste it if she opened her sharp-toothed mouth.
But she stays.
Everything is slower now, the fire of seconds ago frozen in an instant. There is ice in her now, cool and logical as she feels her body shredded beneath his touch. The pain she wishes away (and the danger of blood loss) so she is only held underwater, pinned beneath him not so dissimilarly than she had been in the cave. He's seeking some other sort of release this time, and something demands her to stay, to see exactly what it is that he is doing. She does not know him. The black horse is a puzzle she cannot piece together.
Eventually she pulls away, and when she floats above the water again she turns looks at him with those flat black eyes and her flat black mouth, entirely devoid of anything at all. The blood that runs in rivers down her neck is dark, glittering here and there with unnatural flecks of gold. She keeps herself safe, knowing there's too much blood in the water for anyone to live but content once more in her fearlessness. Water drips down the pale strands of her frosted hair, down the length of her nose where it mixes with her blood and falls into the water.
He cannot hurt her, not forever. Djinni will let him - has let him - take from her. Take her body, take her flesh, take her blood. "What do you want?" She says, her voice softer than before with the lust and humor gone. It sounds like a question, but she'd meant to say something else, to tell him to take whatever he wants and she will never deny him. She doesn't though, only watches him with quiet eyes gone sweet brown and hide gone to horsehair at the effort expended to keep herself living as her blood turns the water red around her. "What do you want?"
He is not running.
He is not leaving.
There aren't words to describe the unexpected catching of her breath, to detail the way she moans when his kiss at her throat sends fire through every fiber of her being. She sees stars overhead that are not there, almost imagines there are two moons, feels her heartbeat in the way the water laps at her sides. Any part of him she can reach she does, presses hot kisses to his skin between painless rakes - marking, scarring (claiming?) - his neck and throat. There is no hesitance in her now, her earth-bound climax forgotten in her desperation for more, for another, for him.
This is new. This is strange. This is frightening.
There is no time to fear, no time to think, no time to react even before he is shoving her beneath the water, before his kisses become bites and his hunger for her becomes hunger for her blood.
She could be gone in the blink of an eye, a hundred thousand miles away, and yet she remains. The water around her is murky, but the moon is full and she can see the way her red blood clouds it even further, knows she could taste it if she opened her sharp-toothed mouth.
But she stays.
Everything is slower now, the fire of seconds ago frozen in an instant. There is ice in her now, cool and logical as she feels her body shredded beneath his touch. The pain she wishes away (and the danger of blood loss) so she is only held underwater, pinned beneath him not so dissimilarly than she had been in the cave. He's seeking some other sort of release this time, and something demands her to stay, to see exactly what it is that he is doing. She does not know him. The black horse is a puzzle she cannot piece together.
Eventually she pulls away, and when she floats above the water again she turns looks at him with those flat black eyes and her flat black mouth, entirely devoid of anything at all. The blood that runs in rivers down her neck is dark, glittering here and there with unnatural flecks of gold. She keeps herself safe, knowing there's too much blood in the water for anyone to live but content once more in her fearlessness. Water drips down the pale strands of her frosted hair, down the length of her nose where it mixes with her blood and falls into the water.
He cannot hurt her, not forever. Djinni will let him - has let him - take from her. Take her body, take her flesh, take her blood. "What do you want?" She says, her voice softer than before with the lust and humor gone. It sounds like a question, but she'd meant to say something else, to tell him to take whatever he wants and she will never deny him. She doesn't though, only watches him with quiet eyes gone sweet brown and hide gone to horsehair at the effort expended to keep herself living as her blood turns the water red around her. "What do you want?"
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster