"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
The moment of silence between his speech and her response stretches into eternity. Amet's heart can barely handle the wait; it threatens to rip from his chest, as if bursting away from flesh and bone will somehow solve this dilemma. Will she stay? It may burst with excitement. But should she go... He refuses to think on this option, expelling it from his mind in hopes that positive thoughts will somehow sway her decision.
Suddenly, thankfully, her laughter breaks the silence and her starlight falls to rest on them like angel dust. The gilded King sighs audibly in relief, the muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxing now that they have made it this far. She hasn't left yet, and every additional second that she remains laying with him on their bed of wisteria, his hope grows.
You are not alone, Ciri says and Amet smiles warmly at her, pleased that they're both trekking into uncharted waters. The brief thought of another stallion turning them into charted waters fuels a fire in the leather-plated King that he hadn't ever known to exist before. Jealousy? He shakes his golden head briefly, afraid to get too far ahead of himself, but then... She reaches for his cheek and this time, it's different. There's an added electricity to her touch. It sets his armored skin on fire, forces his breath to catch in his throat, and suddenly he is lost in her.
Her scent that mingles with the perfumed air of Hyaline. The hardened silver in her eyes and the fire that rises in them. The gleam of her coat and the battle wounds that tell of her strength... The curve of her hip. Show me, she whispers, and an unfamiliar flood of passion rages within him. Amet reaches his soft muzzle to her neck, his touch harder and more urgent than before.
He runs his maw down her neck, breathy exhales placed on her skin as he moves. He reaches her withers and then her shoulder, caressing the scars as and coat just the same. Hie neck is extended completely, the muscles rippling beneath his golden scales. He wants to go further, touch her more - Amet recoils quietly and rocks himself to his hooves before lowering his head instantly to regain contact with the starry-eyed girl.
Her flank, her side, the curve of her underbelly. He pulls his lips back to rake blunt teeth across her flesh lightly and his tail whips against his legs with a new sort of restlessness. His own amber eyes have closed, his mind lost in her scent and the desire burning within him, and then he whispers to her and his voice is gruff with need.
It’s all so new to her. The flickering flame that warms her in places she’s never felt. The rush of her blood as his golden eyes contract with unbridled desire. The rapid fluttering of her heart as it throws itself wildly in her chest. Her breath catches, constricts in her tight throat. The silver swirls mesmerized as he comes closer to her, dilating when he makes contact.
There is only one brief moment of hesitation, that tiny seed of doubt protesting, only to be drowned out by his lips on her neck. They are probing, discovering. He is an explorer and her body is an unknown land. Waiting for him. She can’t stop the soft moan that slips from her tongue as her lashes flutter and her muscles relax. Giving in to his search. The caress is no longer held back, there is passion in her dragon and it’s expressed in the way he trails along the ravaged skin of her shoulder. A shiver tingling down her back as she looks up at him, breathless and expectant.
Her own muzzle finds his smooth scaled cheek and her breath is hot as she lips at his jawline. Unsure for only a moment before she presses a soft but firm kiss to the side of his mouth. In that moment, something shifts. Something accelerates. She wants him. In a way she has never wanted anything before. She tingles, everywhere, for him. His touch is becoming more fevered, more daring. He doesn’t need to instruct her when he pulls away from her underbelly. She is already at his command, finding her own hooves. There is a headiness in her gaze as the metallic iris’s find his again. She is not afraid, only filled with a nervous excitement. The butterflies in her stomach dipping and dropping lower and lower.
She had thought she would have felt awkward. She is certainly vulnerable before him and yet her confidence grows with each touch, each kiss. His advances becoming more assertive. Her lips are tracing the gilded curve of his neck, her teeth unable to rake against his scales as he can do to her. However she finds the sensitive parts of skin, where flesh meets mane, and rakes it there. Tantalizingly, slowly. Her touch moves further, bolder. Sweeping from his shoulder to the point of his hip. Dipping lower, a slow kiss placed on the sensitive skin near his belly, close to his thigh. Looking back to him as she throws her head up with an inviting snap of her tail against haunches. ”Akmar….” She whispers, pressing her body against him, her eyes wide and bright in the dimness of their hidden world. ”Show me the stars.” It’s clear she’s not speaking of the ones in the sky. They can’t show her what he can.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
His muzzle explores her, tentatively at first, as she lay prone against the wisteria bed. She is beautiful against the purple backdrop and his amber eyes look up at her face as he continues to rove, almost as if to ask her permission as his touch grows more urgent. Her soft moan throws his ears forward and Amet groans deeply in response as heat shoots through his loins at the sound. The electricity between them is nearly unbearable now; the young stallion is blatantly inexperienced in handling this rush of feeling, and when he does find his voice, Amet's request is gruff and laden with fervor.
Ciri is on her hooves quickly, fueled by her desire for him. For him, Amet realizes as his golden eyes drink in the sight of smoky black mare, their breathy desire heating the flowered, private den he had created for her. The young Akhal-Teke's mouth is dry, his throat constricted, and his lanky appendages restless as she regains contact with him. He curves his leather-plated neck instinctively beneath her touch and the muscles ripple as he tucks his head to his chest, amber eyes closing for only a moment as he expels a torrid sigh.
Her blunt teeth rake against the base of his mane, unfamiliar but not unwelcome electricity shooting through him once more; Amet curls his head around to look at Ciri with molten lava in his gaze, to watch the way she works her way down his narrow frame slowly, teasingly. His own muzzle reaches for her side and his teeth graze against her coat again, this time nipping playfully and with increasing intensity. His nostrils flare, greedily inhaling the scent of her until she explores down his flank and then lower, and lower, until she kisses against the tender skin at the meeting of his thigh and his underbelly.
He squeals involuntarily at her provocative touch, his gilded head tossed skyward as the rush of heat in his groin coaxes his manhood to unsheathe. Amet groans again as she turns her sultry gaze over her shoulder at him (akmar, she whispers, and he is hers) and snaps the tendrils of her tail to draw his attention to the heady scent of desire that he has helped produce. He leans into her curvy frame, trying his best to be as close to Ciri as possible as he nuzzles his gilded head against her flank, the swell of her rump, the side of her thigh.
Show me the stars, she purrs to him, and Amet nearly loses his virgin self on the petal-coated ground. A snort of desire escapes him as he moves further down her frame until his muscled shoulder is rubbing against her rump and he is pivoting his gilded frame to face her. The young stallion tries to keep himself settled, tries to contain the desire that swells hot and needy in his loins, but he has lost himself to his akmar and he is no longer piloted by reason, but by a raging inferno of need.
"Ciri," he sighs lasciviously against her skin as he presses his chest to her curved haunches and waits for her to splay her legs, his soft muzzle caressing every piece of the starry-eyed mare that he can reach.
As his squeal hits the air, as the result of her teasing touch is exposed before her, she has a sudden moment of clarity. It passes through her heated fog and tendrils of desire. As hard metallic meets molten gold. How crazy her life had become. How she had never in a million years pictured this moment, could never imagine her life traveling down this road. To battle creatures she thought only in fairytales. To be rescued by a knight who turned out to not be a Prince but a King. Not once in her dreams with every star in the sky could she have predicted this. To be lusted, desired, and possibly loved by him. A Dragon-King, her Dragon Stallion. That was where most have failed, to see past the boy he had once been. But she had always seen him for what he was. He was not a young man writhing to shed the skin of his cocoon to adulthood. No, he had always been a man in her eyes.
These thoughts rush in mere seconds as he unsheathes himself before her. As the weighty decision is made plan, there was still a chance to stop this. To make love to a King could cause endless problems and endless heartache. This she has learned from the stories on the road. Would he be like all the others? Or would it be different as she would claim his innocence the same instant he claims hers?
The new reflection in his eyes (the heat, the need) for her is all it takes. She is already wet and writhing for him, it was too late to turn back now. She doesn’t want to. She wants him. To feel his weight on top of her, his warm breath against her neck and whispered words in her ear. To feel him inside her, consuming her. She wants to be devoured. As her tail whips an invitation, he moves like the scaled beast he is. Claiming his treasure as he marks every inch of her body. The way he says her name makes her bite her lower lip, the icing on the cake. She is more than ready for him, parting herself and blossoming like an untouched flower as her tail lifts. There are no words, they are stuck in her throat as she gasps softly and trembles at his touch. She does not know what to expect and her butterflies take flight in her stomach even as her loins ache for him.
The sleek curve of her neck as she twists her skull to look back at him. All those unsaid things reflected in the silver stars of her eyes. Desire, lust, and the smallest glint of fear. She can wait no longer, taking a step back to push herself against his chest as she finally moans his name in a soft whisper. Their secret garden turning into a fragrant bed that becomes humid with their mounting heat. Take me Amet. Take me.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
Ciri is the only thing that exists in this moment. His thoughts, his desires, his needs revolve solely around her. And as she backs her hindquarters into his chest, the gilded stallion takes a shaky breath. He pushes against the starry-eyed girl as she lifts the tresses of her tail and plants another nip upon her rump, unsure of exactly how to express the need that he feels but knowing full well that he wants to show her in any way he can.
Ciri's legs are splayed sturdily as she moans his name, coaxing him onto his hind legs with a fiery compulsion. Despite the hazy need in his golden eyes, Amet is careful to settle his weight upon her carefully. His front hooves struggle briefly to grasp at her sides but when he does find purchase, he pulls her back into him greedily and tugs at the base of her dark mane with his blunt teeth. The young stallion sighs with satisfaction as he nestles within her, his soft muzzle moving gently across her withers and then he is adrift in the task of pleasuring her. Amet pulls her tightly to him, consuming Ciri fervidly.
His inexperience shows in the length of their courtship, but Amet still has enough time to teeter between ravaging her with the immensity of his need and treating her as if she is his moon and stars. His stars, his akmar. When he is slick with sweat and he has sighed her name into her ear once more, the gilded stallion loosens the muscles in his forelegs and drops slowly back to earth. His body is awash with pleasure and he leans into her hip comfortably, placing kisses along the curve of it before striding forward once, twice, to let his golden head rest against her scarred neck.
Amet's heart still beats in his ears and he still wants nothing more than to be pressed against Ciri, but his raging passion has ebbed into a warm, constant want for her. Post coitus, his anxiety has fallen away and he is no longer nervous to stand beside the strong starry-eyed girl.
10-13-2017, 07:32 PM (This post was last modified: 10-13-2017, 07:32 PM by Ciri.)
Ciri
There is a thrill of excitement that jolts through her system as he rises on top of her, as his legs find purchase around her scarred barrel and squeezes. He is not as heavy as she had expected him to be. There is only a brief second of anticipation as he finds his hold and then suddenly pulls her into him and she cries out with pain. She is virgin territory and it feels like she’s being stabbed within as he plunges into her. Gritting her teeth, tears wetting her eyes but not falling across her smokey cheeks.
Despite this first uncomfortable introduction to sex, he is a gentle lover. His muzzle runs soothingly across her withers, pulling at the tendrils of her hair at the base of her neck. Her muscles begin to unclench as she slowly begins to relax. The pain does not last long as she had been built up in her need for him. She sighs softly as she begins to release herself to him, as he grips her tightly and takes her as his own.
It ends too soon for her. He dismounts, sated, but she is still on fire for him. Still needing his touch and aching for the feeling of what it was like with him inside her. Her coat is damp with the mingling of their combined sweat, the humidity pressing in on them from their private den. Heated scales press into her warm flesh as his kisses trail the length of her body and she rubs against him like a cat, still purring for more affection. Her heart is thundering in her chest, her passion still alighted, still craving him even as she throbs with soreness.
”You’re perfect, akmar.” Her lips find his, restless with her desire. ”I would have you again my King.” She murmurs huskily, the stars in her silver swirls shining brightly up at him as she slinks into his chest. Only pulling away slightly, suddenly demure. Wondering if he would be put off by her boldness.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
He hadn't expected Ciri's painful cry as they commenced the consummation of their relationship; he pauses only for a moment, his ears tilted forward to see if she will protest the weight of him or his entrance into her snug cavern. When she does not ask for his dismount, the young Amet continues with his reverence of her smoky black body. She sighs gently and the gilded King relaxes into a better position at the sound, though he is still fearful that he may hurt her. When he is satiated and his dark tail has flagged over the gleaming scales of his flank, Amet lowers himself gently to the flower bed beneath them, rife with gratification.
He is content to nuzzle against Ciri, but his shining brilliance has a different idea. She permeates seduction, her curvy frame pressed and rubbing against his. The Dragon King releases a low mmmm of satisfaction as she curls herself around him and places a kiss upon his muzzle; he breathes in deeply, intoxicated by her scent, and then she speaks coyly and his breath catches for only a moment. "Oh?" he chuckles low in his throat and uses his chin to pull her back to him when she threatens to create distance once more.
He presses his soft muzzle to her withers and moves slowly downward, pivoting his golden frame slightly so that his maw can run down her shoulder. Her sweat draws him in, overloading his brain with her irresistible pheromones - had he any notion of how he would feel about Ciri when they had first met, Amet would not have taken this long to display his affections to her (though, perhaps it is for the best that he hadn't known, lest he'd been distracted during the more critical moments of her care).
"Only if you call me that again," he murmurs to the starry-eyed girl as he snakes his way down her feminine frame again, this time with less tentativeness and more of an urge to guarantee her fulfillment. His nose trails down her flank, to her thigh, teasingly to the dock of her tail before he places a nip on the back of her leg. "Tell me you want me," he requests of the mare as his voice grows guttural and his manhood grows... well, just grows.
The few minutes of overwhelming pain are long forgotten. Instead she remembers only the longing in his voice, the rise and fall of his breath against her ear, the building heat within her as her arousal steadily grows. He will not allow her to play so coy, the moment of doubt extinguished as he grabs and pulls her back to him. A soft gasp escapes her as he instantly picks up on her cravings, that she is hungry for more. Lipping at her withers and moving tantalizingly lower. Her body is trembling with the built up frustration, her own touch to him slightly rougher with her want. Blunt teeth nipping sharply at his flank even as his muzzle is caressing her thigh and she is swimming in deep desire, unthinkingly parting herself for him again. His touch is overwhelming and of course she wants him. She wants nothing else.
”I want you my King.” She breathes raggedly, a tremor in her voice, as her metallic gaze hardens as much as he does. She is drunk on him and the pleasure she knows he can bring her, it makes her bolder. Whisky courage as she dares to go even further, her muzzle dipping beneath his underbelly to lip at the sensitive skin there. Watching the way he stiffens, seeing that her feelings for him are quite reciprocated. His caress is lengthening and she can not keep the moans from her dark lips. Before they had been so quiet, two young kids afraid to get caught. Now she doesn’t care who hears them. It doesn’t matter as long as he brings her the relief she needs.
Her body is an inferno and near to explosion. She writhes against his scaled body and beneath his exploring strokes against her sensitive flesh. Tendrils of ebony snap against her haunches, making him aware of just how aroused she truly was. How wet and ready for him she still is. Ready for his golden stars to meld into the night of her until they melded into one another and create their own sky.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
He will never grow tired of exploring Ciri's body with his mouth. Between the feel of her skin, electric against his, and the soft moans she occasionally emits, the gilded stallion is content to soak it all in forever. His touch softens, reduced to breathy exhales against her flesh, and then pushes greedily again. How he aches to tease her now, to see how far he can push her before she collapses into him, but his own self-control is lacking, and Amet would give in just as swiftly as she would.
Her roving touch distracts him briefly, drawing a gasp from his lips as electricity shoots through his loins. "Ciri..." he groans as his own muzzle drifts over the swell of her haunches to caress near her tail. She obliges him, her husky voice professing her desire for him in a way that makes his groin ache. Amet grows more adventurous as she flips her dark tail over his neck, pivoting his body away from her until they are facing the same direction and he is able to nibble at the back of her leg longingly.
She is splayed already, offering herself to him again, and this time Amet does not bestride her hesitantly. The scent of her is exhilarating and thick in the heat of their den; he moans at her wetness. Wisteria blossoms stick to his back where he has knocked them from their branches and some fall away each time he sinks himself into Ciri. He works to ravish her, ensuring that he moves slowly and methodically this time to avoid another Minuteman assault, as his blunt teeth nip lovingly at her withers and neck, his voice resounding gruffly in her ears with each groan. The stallion closes his amber eyes in pleasure and drifts completely into his stars, seeing and hearing and feeling nothing else.
This time is different. There is no pain, only pleasure. To be covered in him, consumed by him. There is nothing else like it. Unable to keep the breathy moans that slip from her smiling lips. Not afraid to vocally display the way he is making her feel. There is an aching at her core that grows and grows as he pulls her into him. As his lips place enticing kisses along her backside, as she spreads herself further to take him completely. Each rhythmic movement bringing her closer and closer to paradise. And when it does happen (that moment when a warmth rises like a tidal wave, flooding her entire body, and she cries out loud with unexpected pleasure) she submits to him completely. Trembling like a newborn fawn on shaking legs, tingling all over as her sides heave with effort.
There are tears in her starry eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of what she is feeling. Purple blossoms are tangled in the damp raven strands of her mane, pressed against her slick dark skin as she folds into his embrace. Utterly content. ”Moon of my life.” She murmurs with a wavering voice, needing to curl against him and lovingly stroking beneath his jaw. Never realizing how strongly she could feel for someone, that she could ever be capable of such affection. ”My Moon, my King.” She croons softly, huskily. Tucking her head beneath his as her heart continues to beat wildly against her chest.
In this moment, everything is perfect.
In this moment, she is complete.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
