07-18-2017, 01:08 AM
My heart saw the things my eyes couldn't see
It is the folly of youth to give in to temptation. And he, in that one respect, is no different from any other young stallion. Temptation had stumbled directly into his path, and he had taken her up on that inadvertent offer.
He does not think that she minds overly much though. Not with the way the breath hitches in her throat, in that lovely, slender column that tempts lips and teeth to nibble and tease. Not with the way her skin quivers beneath his touch, the way her flesh heats and her heart thumps a too rapid rhythm inside her chest. His own does the same, a strong, steady throb that sends heated blood pulsing through his veins, warming his skin and driving the thrill and wicked temptation ever deeper.
The slide of his lips from chest to neck stirs him as much as it does her, sending a flood of warmth and sensation cascading along sensitive skin, sparking already raw nerve endings. In that moment, he feels as though he has never wanted anything more than this, than the bone deep hunger, the callow yearning.
He presses closer, ever closer, as though they might truly become one. His lips draw upwards, pressing hot kisses to the silken skin, the sleek muscles of her shapely neck. He reaches her throat, the tender, secret flesh there beneath her jaw, nibbles lightly, provocatively. The words she whispers next, dark and sensual, directly into his mind, draw another wicked smile from him. He is pressed so close now he is certain she must be able to feel it against her skin. This time though, he doesn’t answer aloud. She has already proven she can hear his thoughts. She would hear him, those terrible, inviting thoughts he cannot seem to shake. Everything, he whispers into her mind. I will show you everything if you let me.
A soft, breathy groan escapes his lips, caressing her rouged skin. He shifts then, heated flesh sliding against heated flesh, as he reaches for more, his mouth seeking every inch of skin it can find. He traces the elegant curve of her cheek, lightly, tauntingly, before slipping back, giving his seeking lips access to the glorious slope of her withers, her slim, graceful back. He would not pursue if she chose that moment to pull away, to release herself from these passionate bonds, but he hopes she will not. He hopes, with all of his heart and mind, that she will choose to stay. Will choose him.
He does not think that she minds overly much though. Not with the way the breath hitches in her throat, in that lovely, slender column that tempts lips and teeth to nibble and tease. Not with the way her skin quivers beneath his touch, the way her flesh heats and her heart thumps a too rapid rhythm inside her chest. His own does the same, a strong, steady throb that sends heated blood pulsing through his veins, warming his skin and driving the thrill and wicked temptation ever deeper.
The slide of his lips from chest to neck stirs him as much as it does her, sending a flood of warmth and sensation cascading along sensitive skin, sparking already raw nerve endings. In that moment, he feels as though he has never wanted anything more than this, than the bone deep hunger, the callow yearning.
He presses closer, ever closer, as though they might truly become one. His lips draw upwards, pressing hot kisses to the silken skin, the sleek muscles of her shapely neck. He reaches her throat, the tender, secret flesh there beneath her jaw, nibbles lightly, provocatively. The words she whispers next, dark and sensual, directly into his mind, draw another wicked smile from him. He is pressed so close now he is certain she must be able to feel it against her skin. This time though, he doesn’t answer aloud. She has already proven she can hear his thoughts. She would hear him, those terrible, inviting thoughts he cannot seem to shake. Everything, he whispers into her mind. I will show you everything if you let me.
A soft, breathy groan escapes his lips, caressing her rouged skin. He shifts then, heated flesh sliding against heated flesh, as he reaches for more, his mouth seeking every inch of skin it can find. He traces the elegant curve of her cheek, lightly, tauntingly, before slipping back, giving his seeking lips access to the glorious slope of her withers, her slim, graceful back. He would not pursue if she chose that moment to pull away, to release herself from these passionate bonds, but he hopes she will not. He hopes, with all of his heart and mind, that she will choose to stay. Will choose him.
Fox
