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  • Beqanna


    Assailant -- Year 226


    "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

    [mature]  somebody get me through this nightmare


    Through the fog of his lust rises a tender appreciation of how readily she not only accepts his touch, but genuinely welcomes it. What a startling transformation from the girl that flinched, whether outwardly or not, every time he reached for her. He had thought his craving for her could not grow any further, but this realization only heightens his need to claim her in every way possible. The feeling, yes, is borne out of physical need in this moment, but there is still a lingering dread that none of this will last that also fuels that need.

    But suddenly, none of it matters as they both make those heated, strangled noises when their bodies finally melt into each other. All traces of apprehension, any whispers of doubt, every one of his concerns disappear into some unknown void as he sinks into her molten warmth and elicits that quiet, sensual breath from her. That sound alone is all it takes to push him far enough to teeter dangerously over the edge. But he grits his teeth and manages to somehow tether himself so that he can guide her along the path of her passion.

    He does so with admirable skill, though flashes of frantic desperation grow exponentially each time she cries out, for he loves how her mouth curls around his name. At some point, he senses that neither of them can hold out much longer, so where he had been biting fervently, he lightly brushes his lips instead, sweeps his tongue over the dampness that covers her skin. Then, when he murmurs her name, she is pulled under by the currents of her desire and he delights in watching, in feeling every moment of it.

    The way she quakes, undulates, pants beneath him triggers his own release. It sends electric jolts ripping through his body, and he shudders violently while repeatedly calling out. As she did for him, he wraps her name in swathes of sheer satisfaction until its as though every bone in his body has dissolved, leaving him draped weakly over her. Waves of aftershock ripple through his system and for a long while, he cannot tell which of them trembles more. As he lies there, letting the rhythms and efforts of his heart and lungs return to normal, she murmurs his name and brings her lips to his leg, sending another thread of electricity coursing through him.

    But in the tone of her voice and the gentleness of her kiss, he can sense that she is not ready to break their contact. He noticed it earlier too, when she tried to move with him as he repositioned himself; he cannot fault her though, for he had despised the loss of her touch just as much as she did his. So, he grips her tightly once more, though as a gesture of comfort, of reassurance that he won’t disappear. He’s known for some time, but this moment has only reaffirmed the knowledge that he will never voluntarily leave now that he has found her again.

    So, he lies there, alternating between laying a trail of featherlight kisses along her neck and burying his nose in her mane as his breathing steadies. He is equally content to bask in the satisfaction of finding each other, in the relief of finally baring their hearts, in the afterglow of their union. He savors the ocean-like smell that clings to her, enjoys the feel of her seashells pushing sharply against his own skin.

    As he inhales once more, he suddenly remembers how he had ended up here in the first place and that is enough to motivate him to slide from her back. He nips mischievously at her side, briefly considering the likely outcome of their actions, but there is something that is more important, at least for now.

    He reaches for her face once more, and as he continues to explore her skin (though less urgently than before), he mumbles quietly against her, “You are incredible.” As he lets his lips graze the curve of her mouth, he continues, “We’ll have to do that again soon,” he says, pressing another kiss to the bridge of her nose. “But first, I’d like you to come with me to the Meadow to collect a little token I’ve hidden there.”

    He draws back, allowing her to see the coltish glimmer that lights his eyes. “I’ve been working with a few others on… well, it was meant to be something that might encourage you to speak to me again, but I suppose I don’t need it for that anymore.” He laughs easily and there is a lightness in his chest that wasn’t there before. “I won’t tell you what it is just yet, but I feel that you should be there when we find out if it’s even possible to have.” He places his neck over hers, applying a bit of pressure so that he can draw her head to his chest, so that she might hear the sound of his heart as he declares, “And even if they say that no one else can be there for the outcome, I will find a way to change their minds because I won’t let you out of my sight again.”

    All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware

    --Martin Buber

    image by HalwestIV

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