[private] [mature] at me, the sea withdrew

[Oceane]

oceane

at me, the sea withdrew

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"I hope you don't think I told you these things just to hear an apology," she says with a quirk of her lips and gentle laughter, "I probably wouldn't have told you back then, anyway." The truth lingers between them and she peers into the apologetic gaze of her King for a few moments, watching as it folds away to make room for the familiar coy playfulness that seems destined to arise each time they interact.

His grin returns, the sharpness of his jaw accentuated by the way the moonlight falls over his gold-banded face, and Oceane boldly calls him forward ─ intent to be close to him and to feel the warmth of his lean, sleek body (warmth, she notices, that is stronger than what could be considered natural) against hers, the opalescent mare falls into the moment without reproach or hesitation.

Castile's gentle caress sets her skin on fire. She leans into it and her molten, wanting eyes flutter closed as she revels in the feeling of his lips against her. He does not question her desire ─ does not ask if she is sure or if she knows what she truly wants or if she knows what could come of their night together beneath the stars, and this drives her need for the Loessian King.

She easily braces herself beneath the weight of him, wings half-opened to give him better purchase around her slim barrel, and curls her muzzle to the sinew of her chest as she succumbs to the fullness and the gratification.

When Castile returns to the earth, Oceane is coated comfortably in sweat that chills swiftly in the darkness. She presses her neck into him as he lips at her mane and, after a time, drifts to sleep.

---

@[Castile]
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