Leilan
Your beauty is beyond compare -
oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
Oh how she is close - closer than he thought she would possibly want to be before, acting on hormones rather than thought. And so is he - the feeling surging through him now, that which started with a flirty warning, is not to be ignored. The scent of her alone could drive him mad, but, as long as he would have kept his distance, as long as she would have kept her distance, this might not have happened. But it is his bold moves, his smooth talk, that led them here and he does not regret it. He never does, for being with a woman is a magical thing, intoxicating, and if he could he would do it every other night.
He’s been lucky like this before, if you could call it luck. Somewhere, someone, sometime, what seems to be a long time ago, probably back when he wasn’t here in Beqanna, would also have fallen for his good looks, his charm, and the combination of his experienced teases combined with hormones. Not to be mistaken for actual love, no - but a need so primal they have to act on it. Now, right now, immediately.
Yes, she tells him. She wants him, he knew that already, but he just had to make sure she knew it too. Understood that it was equally her doing it, as well as he. Her lips find his skin again, and the haze thickens, his mouth works his way along her body, teeths down her spine, to the spot right above her tail base. Sensitive as that place is, this touch is sure to make her feel even stronger that she wants this, now. Her words barely register when she whispers once again. I won’t stop you. Like hell she wouldn’t. They’re too far down this road. His teeth softly tease her haunch, his satin nose works his way to that spot between her legs - oh, he knows how to make her feel even more needy than she can possibly imagine. Make her feel things, want things, near to that point where pleasure almost feels like pain, the drug of autumnal hormones making her even more weak in the knees than she could possibly be right now. He doesn’t need a word to get all this done, but his mouth works his way on her once again.
He takes a few steps to align himself behind her, to teasingly, lustfully touch where very probably, no-one went before. There’s only a few things he’s really good at, dancing through life like it is a game, and he makes this a game, of hunter and being hunted, of luring and not giving in, not yet, not just yet, until her gasps tell him that she is where he wants her to be. Then and only then, he mounts her, fulfills his own need as well as hers, completes the dance of flirting and teasing and luring. He’s sky-high on her scent, her heat, and with each thrust there is the ecstasy racing through his body as well as he knows it is in hers, adding to it when she moves to fit him like a glove - she’s a natural, giving in to her instincts like that.
With one last thrust he feels like he’s bursting, giving to her all that she asked for, spilling his seed while tripping on that high of lust and need. He mouths her withers then, softly caressing her now-damp skin. He stays on top of her just a while, while their heartbeats settle down slowly, for he’s still a little swollen and she does not deserve to be ever hurt by pulling out roughly.
He smoothly makes his way down her, their sweat mingled where their skins made contact just before - basically everywhere. His breath still raspy, he moves parallel along her side. ”I think you should try to sleep a little.” he works in between soft kisses and soft tugs on her mane to untangle what he had tangled only just before. He could stay awake, but, after actions such as these, not to mention her death run earlier, he had been amazed she hadn’t gone to the ground yet although he had tried not to fully exhaust her. But soon instead of hormones, that weak feeling in the knees would come and settle in, he knew all too well. Sleep was the best recovery for sex, after all.
He’s been lucky like this before, if you could call it luck. Somewhere, someone, sometime, what seems to be a long time ago, probably back when he wasn’t here in Beqanna, would also have fallen for his good looks, his charm, and the combination of his experienced teases combined with hormones. Not to be mistaken for actual love, no - but a need so primal they have to act on it. Now, right now, immediately.
Yes, she tells him. She wants him, he knew that already, but he just had to make sure she knew it too. Understood that it was equally her doing it, as well as he. Her lips find his skin again, and the haze thickens, his mouth works his way along her body, teeths down her spine, to the spot right above her tail base. Sensitive as that place is, this touch is sure to make her feel even stronger that she wants this, now. Her words barely register when she whispers once again. I won’t stop you. Like hell she wouldn’t. They’re too far down this road. His teeth softly tease her haunch, his satin nose works his way to that spot between her legs - oh, he knows how to make her feel even more needy than she can possibly imagine. Make her feel things, want things, near to that point where pleasure almost feels like pain, the drug of autumnal hormones making her even more weak in the knees than she could possibly be right now. He doesn’t need a word to get all this done, but his mouth works his way on her once again.
He takes a few steps to align himself behind her, to teasingly, lustfully touch where very probably, no-one went before. There’s only a few things he’s really good at, dancing through life like it is a game, and he makes this a game, of hunter and being hunted, of luring and not giving in, not yet, not just yet, until her gasps tell him that she is where he wants her to be. Then and only then, he mounts her, fulfills his own need as well as hers, completes the dance of flirting and teasing and luring. He’s sky-high on her scent, her heat, and with each thrust there is the ecstasy racing through his body as well as he knows it is in hers, adding to it when she moves to fit him like a glove - she’s a natural, giving in to her instincts like that.
With one last thrust he feels like he’s bursting, giving to her all that she asked for, spilling his seed while tripping on that high of lust and need. He mouths her withers then, softly caressing her now-damp skin. He stays on top of her just a while, while their heartbeats settle down slowly, for he’s still a little swollen and she does not deserve to be ever hurt by pulling out roughly.
He smoothly makes his way down her, their sweat mingled where their skins made contact just before - basically everywhere. His breath still raspy, he moves parallel along her side. ”I think you should try to sleep a little.” he works in between soft kisses and soft tugs on her mane to untangle what he had tangled only just before. He could stay awake, but, after actions such as these, not to mention her death run earlier, he had been amazed she hadn’t gone to the ground yet although he had tried not to fully exhaust her. But soon instead of hormones, that weak feeling in the knees would come and settle in, he knew all too well. Sleep was the best recovery for sex, after all.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
let's go and poke it with a stick
Please let me know if anything needs changing. ;) also this may need a mature tag :P
@[Briseis]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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