[open] The Sweet Sting || Starsin ||

[Wolfbane]

I believe I'd die if I only could

I sure feel strange, but it sure feels good

A soft rumbling erupted into the silence, ripping out of Wolfbane’s throat. He purred a lion’s purr, not housecats, but the tenor of the low sound felt like bass through the skin: vibrating and pleasant, without ever having to touch the source it came from. Starsin could more or less feel his pleasure and Wolfbane felt nothing wrong with forcing that on her, if she wasn’t going to tease and taunt him the way he’d initially expected. “No fun at all,” Longclaw muttered in Bane’s head; if he were allowed to be present there wouldn’t be space to breath, much less move around.

In the blue-dark, his sharp eyes followed where the star-girl stepped closer to him.

He reacted like her partner in a dance, shifting his forelegs apart and curving his neck around the space hers soon inhabited. The heat from her skin was radiant to him; a dim white light in the otherwise gray swath of colorless woods. He tilted his cheek, feeling the faint breeze she left behind in the wake of her lips passing invisibly over his face, and gave her a handsome smile underneath the iridescent mask he wore. “Starsin, honey,” He chortled quietly, almost condescending if not for the undercurrent of sexual tension, “you’re the absolute worst.” He teased breathlessly.

He groaned and shook his head, “See what you do to me?” He accused the satiny, silver mare. Uncomfortably, he shifted his hind legs and unstuck the… issue arising back there.

“You’ve distracted me,” He lied with a grin, leaning against a nearby birch tree for support to give the pair a bit of distance from one another, “not that I mind.” He mused in that same rough, heavy voice. “I could probably be persuaded to forget everything entirely, if you wanted to give it a try.” The bastard winked in the dark.

For this thread:  Sex: M  ◉  Appearance: Normal, Wingless  ◉  Mood: Guarded

@[Starsin]