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Post by Willow on Jan 4, 2011 1:26:40 GMT -6
Her every touch entranced him and he couldn’t help closing his eyes to her sweet and gentle caresses. “Mm, Pretty, let’s not talk about that… him.” He nuzzled her throat lightly. “I would much rather concentrate solely on you,” he purred before kissing a path along her throat and over her jaw, finding his way to her lips. The hunger was beginning to roar in his belly and he both embraced and fought against it, trying to hold onto his head for as long as possible before he descended upon her like some ravenous beast. It had been two days since he’d felt the softness of her skin beneath his calloused fingertips or brushing against his lips. Two days since he’d tasted her, two days since he’d allowed himself near her because he’d needed to work off enough of his rage that he could keep himself controlled and maintained. That it had taken so long should give indication how much he had been worked up, and how dangerous he’d really been during that period of time. Zanen was over two thousand years old. He was a master of self-control.
Then again, the situation had been intense. More than intense. It had been that the lives of so many might have ended in an instant in a bloody rampage.
Luckily for all the innocents who might have been lost, Asina had gone off to the Certann Forest with Ciel and Zanen had spent the past two days physically working out his aggression.
Of course, his mind was nowhere near any of that at the moment. No, all of his attention was rapt to Danalli and the way her lips were coasting down his chest and over his stomach. She just kept moving lower and he was physically responding. His skin heated, his body tightened, and his hands rose to skim over her arms, her shoulders, then back down again, thumbs tracing over the exposed mounds of her breasts.
“Did I?” he purred, the heat vivid in his eyes as he looked down at her. He noted the mischief, and it only made his loins tighten again. He needed her to keep touching him, needed her to either lean in or lean back so that he could advance on her. He needed to taste her, to touch her, to feel her writhing beneath him, against him. He wanted to feel her struggle, to feel her overrun with pleasure to the point that she feared she would burst from it. He wanted to watch the way her eyes would glaze over again and again as he showed her what a demon could do to pleasure the woman he was devoted to. Demons are the most attentive of lovers. Obsessive about causing as much tortuous pleasure as possible. It was a sadistic game but it was also sublime.
And he wanted to make up for the lost time. Needed to. Had to fill her with so much pleasure she begged him never to stop.
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Post by libellule on Jan 4, 2011 2:17:56 GMT -6
Mm… Perhaps her little field day would have to wait. She’d get to it in an hour or so…
It was as if she could sense his want and he could sense hers. She was practically drenched with writhing desire and he was a ferocious barking dog on a chain, one link about to snap. How could she turn away or ever deny such a beautiful creature. How could she, such a temperate, docile filly hold a dragon at bay…
A toothy grin that was much too sinister spread across Danalli’s features as she returned to his abdomen, her marked location, a lovely red blemish fading quickly. No doubt him being the reason…
Not to worry… she would make more. Her lips treaded feverishly across the line of his hipbones soon after, her teeth grazing against the thin skin that draped over the lean muscle that protected it. Then… she was at his belt, her breath sure to tickle and heat the skin beneath it, sure to enrapture him.
He was always so bent on making sure she was given every ounce of anything he /ever/ had to offer her. It didn’t matter if it was compassion, love, severity, how loudly he could make her say his name over the course of a night, or even how hard he had to stare at her until she understood why he did the things he did. When it came to Danalli it solely about her.
When it came to her pleasure… A whispery chuckle fell from her amused grin, her eyes still closed, leaning against his scorching skin. Zanen was never one to accept failure, never one to hold back, never one to back down from a challenge, and boy… did she love to push his buttons.
Her nails trailed up the inside of his clothed leg, being sure to skim leisurely close to his aroused length that her breasts had decided to lean on as she continued to dot his waistline with her light, sensual kisses. “Mm… You know Shadow,” she cooed, stopping abruptly, her cheek laying merely inches from /such/ a sensitive area of his, her breathe was sure to spill hot bliss all over him, “I would very much like to spoil you right about now… Always so good to me in all sorts of ways… Mm yes…” Her voice, altered to a seductive purr, taunted him with nothing but heated, sex-filled promises. Her fingers ghosted up the length of his hardened member. Oh he would enjoy this.
She was focused, steadily focused, on showing him gratitude this time around. Her hands were stealthy and nimble as they worked his buckle, loosening his pants before she pulled them lower and soon… completely off of him. A soft moan fell from her at the sight of him as she leaned back on her knees, her eyes taking in the sight of her naked mate lying before her, awaiting her. She pulled the leather band that held her ponytail, those tresses falling to her low back as she leaned forward.
Her lips were at the side of his length in an instant, her tongue working intricate massages slowly up the soft surface until she reached the top. Slowly and unbelievably tantalizingly, she licked and sucked, before taking him in and beginning a sweet luscious, fluid rhythm.
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Post by Willow on Jan 4, 2011 22:59:43 GMT -6
His analytical, calculating mind was planning now, devising all of the things he would do to her, the ways he would made her scream his name until even forming those simple syllables were too complex for her hazy, pleasure-drunk mind. Zanen had been alive for centuries, millennia. He’d had time to perfect his methods. It was true that he’d been celibate for a quite a while before Danalli, but he had in no way lost his touch or forgotten all of his little games. Games to make a woman’s flesh sing, games to make their blood rush faster and their hearts beat to the rhythm he dictated. Oh yes, he could play a woman’s desire like a finely tuned instrument and he the master musician. As a Rave, he was a dancer, and this dance was his most beloved of all. The dance of pleasure of pain, of dominance and submission, of lust and love. Obsession. Adoration. Possession.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when her teeth grazed over his hipbones, her nails taunting his inner thigh over his pants. Her mouth sifted teasingly over his skin, her cheek grazing against his groin. Just grazing. Not touching. Needless to say, she had his full and undivided attention. When she finally touched him, even through his pants, he was hard, so stiff it was almost painful –but the demon liked the pain.
“Oh?” he purred. “Spoil me?” His voice had dropped into a kind of growling whisper, a husky, velvet tone.
Then she released him and he groaned at the sight of her long silvery tresses framing the lithe lines of her body. He wanted to touch her, wanted to pull her to him, taste her lips and then slip inside of her waiting warmth. But she leaned in first, her tongue painting a slick wetness along the length of his shaft until she reached his tip. Then she began to spoil him.
Zanen let out a low groan, his fingers automatically digging lightly into that glorious silver hair of hers. His hips flexed slightly against her mouth, but he kept himself as still as he could, letting her take the control for now, letting her spoil him.
“Oh Pretty,” he purred. “You spoil me, you do.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 6, 2011 1:23:20 GMT -6
Danalli reframed from releasing her soft laugh, she instead, hummed a pleasurable sound that was sure to vibrate him down to the core, sure to stroke the fire that was his pride with such a delicious feeling. Her lips touched the base of him as her tongue lapped blissful waves into the side of his tender, thick shaft. Up and down, over and over… again and again.
Gods he tasted delicious.
She shuddered as he lightly thrust into her mouth, his hand tangled in her unbound hair. Her nails only dug sharply into his hipbones as her thumbs massaged deep circles slightly lower. He’d let her have her control, her speed, and her fun. Mm! What a gentleman… Nothing prepared her for his capabilities because nothing could. What he was was something nothing in the past could achieve or even come close to achieving.
Oh Pretty… You spoil me, you do.
Even with her mouth full of his hard flesh, she managed to spill a hot moan all over him, the quiver snaking down her spine was electrifying as she felt herself begin to simmer with this aching, craving desire for him. Him all over her, on top of her, inside of her. His muscles trapping her, herding her, and then him, devouring her as he drenched her in the most delicious, sweetest pleasure.
But that… was for later. Because now… All she wanted was to feel, and hear his breath labor, his grip tighten, and his hips raise to meet her sucking mouth. She wanted to feel his muscles begin to twitch as they fought to hold their ground against her unstopping barrage on him. She wanted him to lay back and enjoy her ministrations as she took complete control and care of his bliss. She reached up to his chest, a finger skimming a nipple lightly as she returned her hand back to where her mouth was and down past his waist, to the inside of his knee, beautiful red lines following their every weave and wave.
Her speed began to pick up, her teeth lightly grazing his skin on her way up ever so often, she didn’t want to be too harsh on him here. No… just enough to get his heart pumping.
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Post by Willow on Jan 6, 2011 23:22:20 GMT -6
Mm. She seemed to appreciate being handed the control for this, and Zanen found that he was benefitting from it as well. Silken lips moved over him, her tongue tantalizing and the pressure of her mouth slowly working him up and driving him crazy. It was a slow and tortuous kind of passive pleasure that made him growl, made him want to reverse their positions and take an active role in the pleasure being had.
Oh, but so much more than that too.
He wanted to slam her down and push into her soft, wet, giving folds. He wanted to fill her up, slide into that dark heat and take her on a ride that would have her moaning his name. The pleasure she was giving him now was only making that need worse, more insistent, less controllable. He was a warrior with centuries, millennia, at his back of training. He was the master of control, and if he really wanted to could suppress every impulse and desire when he was in any state short of berserker.
If he wanted to.
But he didn’t want to right now. He didn’t want to sit in the sidelines. No, Zanen was /always/ an active participant in pleasure.
When her teeth lightly grazed him he lost all desire to hold still and passive. A low, menacing growl rumbled from his throat and his grip suddenly tightened in her hair before he pulled her off of him and suddenly shifted their positions so that she was straddling him, hovering mere inches above his aching erection. It took no effort at all for him to rip at her pants, tearing them off her enough that there was no longer any kind of cloth barrier between them. No, it was just flesh. Just hers, and his, and in a moment he was pulling her down and over him.
The contact alone made him groan.
“D’nalli…” he mumbled against her neck, his lips naturally having gone to tease the mark he had laid upon her sweet flesh with it so near him. He inhaled their mingled scents and groaned. For a few strokes he moved her, lifting her and bringing her back down over him, his hips thrusting up to meet her in the aching need to mate.
“Pretty,” he cooed. “Mine. My Pretty.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 14, 2011 22:29:02 GMT -6
That’s it, Precious…
She felt his body flex underneath her, quake in turmoil… fighting against the urge, the need. She couldn’t suppress her satisfaction as her tongue skimmed across his tip. A tremor flew down her spine as his growl became audible. Mm the things that sound did to her. It enraptured her, it made her moan against his skin, it made her want to rake his flesh as the heat blossomed within her.
Her gasp was surprised as she was pulled up roughly. An annoyed rumble seeped past her sealed lips as she looked down at him, flustered. “You…” It was almost a threat until she tilted her head at him, her hips skimming against his tip as he held her above him.
The excitement painted against her bright, lively chocolate eyes she closed them, as he ripped the remaining clothing between them, and slowly rolled her neck to the side and then back, his mark so wonderfully exalted before his line of sight. She loved it when he claimed her. Loved it when her coveted her. The way he growled out his possession… It lit her skin on fire. Her lips parted barely as a soft shudder fluttered out as he pulled her down on him
Her muscles flexed at the feeling of him inside of her, her back arched and she sat up as he pulled her down and over him a few times, her breaths heated and full. His calloused hands were so gentle with her, so precise as he raised those hips to meet her, to penetrate her.
“Zanen,” she claimed to the ceiling, her eye closed against the pleasure, the goosebumps that shivered down her skin as her moan lit up the room. Her hair draped across her like a silken sheet as she looked down at him, her eyes filled to the brim with want and lust. Her innocence far from this place...
Far far away…
A purr stroked her throat as her nails ran down his chest, her hips grinding down on him, fighting, /dominating/ over, his instructed movements. Oh the things the feeling of him did to her. The way he entranced her. The way he filled her. Her eyes glinted something unnamed as she licked her lips as she leaned down as brushed his dry ones with her moist scent. “You’ve been away for far /too long/,” the whispery moaning emphasis she place on those words were only magnified as her hips only grinded harder against his and she tightened herself around him.
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Post by Willow on Jan 14, 2011 22:47:01 GMT -6
Oh she was sublime.
A wondrous thing she was, how her body hugged him. Her entire body. Every time he slipped inside those folds he slid home. He could feel the way she reacted to him, feel the way every inch of her body responded to the push of his body against hers, into hers. It was more than just the primal need to mate, the biological need to join flesh to flesh in pleasure, pain, dominance and submission. It was a spiritual need to connect and to claim his mate with every fiber of his being. Because she was his. His.
Her body arched and rolled over his, tensing with the pleasure he poured into her just as he knew his own body was livid with what she caused to race through him. Like blood in his veins but thicker, sweeter, moving faster. She drove him high and far and beyond and he knew that she was fully aware of it. Good. She better be. She better know that every time he saw her he desired her. That when she wasn’t near him he was anxious for the absence. That she was his truth. His Light. She better know that. She better know what it meant to be the mate to one of the most powerful demons in all the realms.
One hand slid up her body, marring the pale skin with pretty red lines on his way to grip her chin tightly. “Look at me,” he growled to her. “Look at me. I want to see you looking at me.” It was almost barbaric, the way he growled to her. “I want to see in your eyes what I do to you. I want to see it!” The growl rumbled through his entire body as he rolled them.
“Pretty,” he cooed, “I will see your eyes glaze with pleasure. Because you are mine. Mine, and I want to see. Don’t I always get what I want, Pretty?” he purred as he picked up his pace, driving into her with long, sure strokes, one hand still tight at her hips. His mouth attacked hers, then went down to her neck, to the mark he had placed on her. Teeth grazed the tender area and he moaned. It was a low and feral sound.
Violet eyes connected with hers again. “Keep looking at me, Pretty. I want to see when you go over. I want to see it in your eyes.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 14, 2011 23:46:38 GMT -6
She was a creature with mists for memories. Lulls and black shadowed figures for families and friends in her past. Perhaps she did not know the meaning of having such a strong creature have such an adoration for her. Maybe she was not all knowing in the relics and skills of Raves and their majestic ways. She was barely even certain her name was in fact Danalli. But she did know one thing. And was completely certain of its importance.
Zanen was a soul she would never forget and never be without. She would die before she gave him up. She would take on Lilani’s madness herself to show the world her devotion.
Zanen would never be taken from her. She would do anything her submersed power was willing to allow her. Anything…
His hand scraped up her and she could help but release a quaking yelp. She shook her perfect posture crumpling against his heated requests. Their primal demands, their wicked desires, his black, hot power scorching, consuming her like a sadistic flame.
Then his hand locked to her chin and she was brought to his vivid, malicious violet eyes. She swore she could see through them, see through the misty lavender mirrors they were promised, rumored to be…
To hers.
Her Zanen. Her shadow. Her demon.
She could not look away from his severe, delicious optics and how they noticed every flicker of pleasure that seemed to shudder through her. As he moved them, him still hard and pulsing in her, she couldn’t help but moan against his growl.
His viciousness.
‘Pretty…’ Her breath caught at the softness of his lust filled voice. Her breaths shook as he began his ministrations… the things he did… the things she missed. “Oh,” she called, her eyes closed against the feeling, forgetting his requests, the pleasure was the only thing she could sense. Her nails digging into him just to hold on as her body was being pushed into the blankets, the sheets.. who cared?! His lips found hers, her hungry waiting skin. With one hand and her nails in his shoulder, the other crept up his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair and she pulled him roughly closer. They brushed down her skin like a blistering summer wind, discovering new ways to play her, to stroke her. And his teeth were at her neck, his mark, she couldn’t bare the feeling. The jolt, the simmering… She shrieked and struggled underneath him, struggled to break free or lay still she couldn’t decide but she could do neither.
‘Keeping looking at me, Pretty…’
And she did, she locked her hazy, half-lidded, scorching, pleasure filled eyes with his. “Yours,” she shivered, lifting up to nip his jawline harshly, “Whatever you want Shadow… Always.”
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Post by Willow on Jan 15, 2011 0:37:31 GMT -6
She writhed beneath him. He touched her and she writhed, he pushed into her and she moaned, he pressed his mouth against that delicious and beautiful mark and she shrieked. She /shrieked/ for him. Pain and pleasure, the edge of fear, and the sweetest saturation of devotion and possession combined together to make an irresistible concoction. It was something that filled him up and poured out of him, flooding into her with each movement he made. Every point of contact he poured his heat into her. Through his strong thrust, through the little nibblings, through the grip of his hand on her hip. Everywhere he touched her, he connected with her.
He could feel her. Oh he could feel her. He could feel the way her pulse was fast, her body was quaking, the way she ached for everything he was and the way she just poured herself back into him. Her words caressed his ears, stroked his ego, and he gave a pleased snarl, nipping the tender flesh of his mark on her body before he attacked her mouth again. When he broke away he caught himself in her eyes and was entranced.
Those eyes.
Deep, brown pools of truth looked up at him. Deep, brown pools of everything. Everything that was his.
‘Yours… Whatever you want Shadow… Always.’
He crooned deeply in pleasure and his hands gentled, the one on her hip releasing to slide up her body. With one hand he took both of her wrists and pinned them to the mattress above her head. With the other he stroked her face, and his rhythm became slower, deeper. Long, sure strokes as he stared down into her eyes.
He wanted her to see, too. He wanted her to see everything that she did to him, everything that she was to him. The effect that she had on him. He wanted her to know. The truth. Everything. “Yes,” he crooned softly to her. “Mine. My Light. My Pretty.”
He shifted slightly, his angle changing just in the tiniest bit so that with each stroke he ran over that sweet spot inside over her. Over and over and over. He exploited it, he pushed against it. He wanted her writhing and thrashing beneath him, wanted her to drown in the pleasure he could cause her without even bringing in any method other than his own body, the length of him inside her. All that he could do with only one purpose: To please her.
“I want you, my darling. My sweet, sweet darling. My Pretty. I want you in all of your glory.” He let out a deep, shuddering breath and bowed his head for a moment as he continued those long, deep, sure strokes. When he looked into those pools of chocolate again he smirked. “Come up and over for me Pretty. Come up and over. Scream it. Declare it. Let me hear your pleasure.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 15, 2011 1:21:03 GMT -6
he trembled as his hands moved across her body, caressed her. And he slowed, his pace becoming deeper, fulfilling her. She was reminded of the their session in the shower the other morning, how he held her hands above her to exert his dominance across her body, mind, and soul much like he was now.
But this… was different.
This was a statement from him and it somewhat went against his ways of vicious, his ways of harshness and being rough. His body caressed a feeling into her, the sex was a benefit, but this feeling… was the entire meaning of his pleasure giving.
The way he loved her was a way no one else was to be loved, because no one would ever get this close. No one was allowed to be this close.
No one was good enough to be this close…
So when he pushed her down and made this love to her, mated with her, became one with her, she felt it because she knew exactly how he felt. He stroked her face as she purred and pushed her face into his touch. He left strands of heat and bliss after his fingers left.
Her deep breath was caught as he restrained her, as he shifted… and hit that spot. That delicious spot it seemed no man could ever find no matter how hard they tried. But he… knew. He knew so well. And he pushed it and did not stop, did not hold back. It rocked her over and over again. Her back arched against his shaft, against the pleasure he gave her freely.
They were restrained, but those hands found the sheets to grab as she shuddered underneath him, building and building, trying to find something to hold on to. Anything. The heat, the luscious sweet fire was spreading across her body. Her moans were deafening as he refused to stop.
‘I want you, my darling. My sweet, sweet darling. My Pretty. I want you in all of your glory.’
Glory. What a word, what a meaning it instilled in her. She would show him glory, she would show him devotion, she would show him love. “I am yours, demon,” she promised, breathless, and then sharply, “Because nothing is better. And you will always..”
She couldn’t finish. She could barely breath as she felt her world blur. She felt a zap of static tickle down her spine, her surfacing power, only aiding to the bliss that blinded her. She bit her lip as it demolished her. Her eyes locked with his amethyst as she moaned, fighting against his grip, squirmed underneath his beautiful muscled body.
It was delicious and it slithered through her as she cried out in the passion he gave her. It stayed rolling through her as he continued his thrusts and she found she’d lost control of her own movements and vocal cords because the pleasure had taken complete control and refused to stop. She quaked under him, submitting herself to him and the things he did to her, the things he gave her. She finally regained the smallest bit of composure to moan out the last of her statement.
“Be mine…”
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Post by Willow on Jan 15, 2011 2:11:01 GMT -6
Oh yes, and she gave him everything and more than he wanted and deserved from her. What he needed from her. Her pleasure, her climax, her writhing and her cries. All of it she gave to him. She poured it onto him and he drank it all in. He moved with her, inside of her, and he drank her all in. Every moment, every second, every ounce, and every nuance. All of it. He drank her all in and he savored the sweetness of her on his tongue and in his veins.
Gods. He was the one pulsing inside of her, the one driving her up and over that wall. It was he who was pushing inside of her, but he could feel her inside of him. This living, fluttering thing inside of him. Quaking in his chest, beating with this ferocious and urgent need. Like it was trying to race to some kind of a goal. Like it was trying to reach something. She was inside of him. Pulsing and beating.
He let out a shuddering breath as he pushed himself as deeply as he could inside of her when she crested, allowing himself to release and spill out inside of her. For those moments he held pressed his body as much against her as he could, because the distance felt wrong. Somehow she was inside of him, in his chest, and he couldn’t separate her from her body. That wasn’t right, it didn’t work that way. He couldn’t do that.
That ecstasy was something that she gifted him with and he swallowed. It was something pure and untainted by all that was out there to do such things. It was something real and unillusioned. It was something that he could embrace without hesitation or caution. He could accept this. This fluttering that was her rocking against his ribs and around in his chest cavity. It was a phenomenon that he could not logically compute at the moment, so wracked with her he was. So taken. So possessed.
And he didn’t care.
He released her hands and dragged his fingers lightly down her body, rolling on to his side and pulling out of her so that he could trace his hands idly over her skin. So that he could watch her, and touch her, and bathe in her. Oh she had him. She most definitely had all of him.
It wasn’t until he had gotten his breath back that the phenomenon in his chest was no strange magic. It was no celestial connection like the day the sun rose and he knew she was his Light.
Oh, no. It was simple. And it was so true that he smiled and just pulled her in against him, embracing her tightly.
Because all it was… was the heart beating in his chest.
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Post by libellule on Jan 15, 2011 3:03:49 GMT -6
Danalli almost objected when he released her, almost forced him to stay within her, attached to her. Forever. He made her whole and if she found herself through this muddled mind that was her past he would be the one to help her to discover who she really was. Besides his.
She never felt quite right when his body wasn’t against hers. She’d never thought she’d be able to stay away from him for longer than only a few hours. The only way she restrained herself for two days was his eyes and the coldness he was holding back…
For her.
To protect her from himself, from who he was. She released a breath. Perhaps he didn’t realize that she couldn’t be afraid of anything that he was, because it didn’t matter. She loved him for who and whatever he could become. He could never hurt her. She chuckled softly to herself as he rolled over her. Her eyes trailed on the lines of his toned body. Hers. Her devious little thing. Her mate… Eternally.
“You beautiful thing,” she spoke softly, lovingly, her finger tracing his lips softly. She placed a chaste kiss on them as he pulled her to him. She looked over him, her hands soothing his skin as they stroked him. Her hand found his soft hair and massaged his scalp tenderly.
The blankets were soft underneath her skin; his arms wrapped around her grounded her and made her realize that this was in fact real. He was right here, blanketing with his essence, holding her and he was never going to let her go. She felt them and really couldn’t stop the one that fell past her defense and slid down her cheek, a wondrous crystalline path glimmering in the sunlight of the day.
Damn Baelli…
Truth to be told if it were night it would’ve still be noticeable to his ever observant eyes. Saelir couldn’t even hide a thing from Zanen’s sight. No she made him much to perfect to do such a thing…
So she mentally sighed and let it be. Because all that she dared to care about in this moment was his arms, the way he held her, and the feeling of him molded to her.
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Post by Willow on Jan 15, 2011 4:04:07 GMT -6
He had been cursed so many times in his life. His long, tumulus life. He had been cursed literally and speculatively with everything that had happened. All that he had witnessed. He’d lost so many. He’d lost his last chance at this. Torn away. Severed completely. Lost. Gone. It wasn’t something he ever thought about. Wasn’t something that he ever allowed himself to look back on because for centuries he had waited, had hoped, had slowly died every day until he’d finally realized that… that there would be no return. There would be no heartfelt return, no promises kept.
He never thought about that time. But right now, right now he found his mind drifting to it. As his hands idly traced along Danalli’s skin and her fingers played with is hair, he thought back to Before. He thought that if that was a curse, a punishment for something he’d done, then this must be forgiveness. Redemption. His Light. His Danalli.
She had brought back his heart when he felt hers beat alongside it as if in his own chest that sunrise after watching her dance and perform the Fire Shooting ritual. After watching her pray to Baelli. She had brought this love back into him as she became his lover, then his mate. His marked mate. His. It was a wondrous thing, a truly remarkable thing that he couldn’t help but be awed by. It made him wonder what he had done to deserve the redemption almost as much as he wondered at the curse.
But right now? Right now he touched her. Sweetly, gently, idly. A smile traced his lips that faced into a kind of concern as he saw her tear, as he smelled the salt on her skin. His hand ghosted up to wipe the tear free and he sucked it off his fingertip into his mouth. “Is everything okay, Pretty?” he murmured softly, shifting to look at her more clearly.
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Post by libellule on Jan 16, 2011 0:42:23 GMT -6
Ah. He caught her. How observant he was. How unbelievably detail oriented he was when it came to her.
But maybe that was the gods’ intent. Maybe they knew what she needed. The attention she craved. What if she was carved to life… just for him? The thought made her take a deep breath as her mind only seemed to run rampant with those beautiful ideas as she lay, bare and vulnerable, in his warm and protective embrace. He was such an unstoppable force, so massive to her small, mostly “newborn” soul, to anything for that matter... An elder, ancient warrior of millennia to her new lively and spirited essence, that craved to taste and touch everything the world had to offer… Where exactly would she rather be?
It was his touch that brought her back to the present as her daydream drifted back to the outskirts of her mind, tucking itself into the folds of blurring shades and hushed secrets she could not decipher through. His touch that made her body shake, her breath shuddered. “Mm,” she could only hum an answer to him, her eyes closing against him, the seductive taste he’d given her still slithering lightly across her skin, licking erotic zaps through her. Damn that was something else…
“It’s nothing, precious,” she cooed softly to him, her eyes shifting to his hair as her fingers ran through it. A soft smile spread across her beautiful features as the backs of her fingers trailed across his cheekbone. A silent giggle ran through her at his concern. “Is your mate not allowed to show her uncontainable joy, dearest….” Her voice was a teasing hush. She had such a playful smirk on as she leaned over him, a hand on his chest and her hair spilling over his skin, nipping lightly at his lips.
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Post by Willow on Jan 16, 2011 1:25:36 GMT -6
Zanen gave a soft chuckle and leaned forward to kiss her bare shoulder gently. “Of course she is, of course,” he said through a smile before leaning back on the bed, rolling to his back to look up at the ceiling. High and domed, as it was the top of a tower. He liked it that way, it gave the illusion that the room was a lot bigger than it actually was, making it seem expansive when it was actually rather plain and simple. Of course, he’d designed the circular chambers that way. It accorded to his taste.
A hand slithered over his chest and then long, silver hair tickled along his skin. The sensation made him smile even before he looked over at her with an amused violet gaze. “Mm,” he crooned as her lips touched his, teeth lightly grazing. When the little kiss broke he pulled her back in and then shifted so that she was on her back and he was looming over her, placing little kisses from her lips down her jaw, fluttering over her neck. His teeth grazed that mark on her neck and he groaned. “Oh Pretty, you taste so delicious,” he purred.
His lips latched onto the sweet wound and he sucked on it, tasting his possession and basking in it for a few moments before pulling back enough to look into those chocolate eyes of hers. “I can’t decide whether I want to take you out today or keep you prisoner in bed until I’m completely…” his hand ran up her leg and over her knee, kneading her thigh slightly as he worked his way higher and more inward “…sated.”
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