your hands are scarred from murder

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

Oh, he pulls back quickly to stare at her with the silver fire of his gaze as the sensation racks through him, and he watches her bite her lip and her face shift as if its trying to shift into a smirk. And he can’t help the tilt of his head as she tempts him again, her other hand moving on the other side of him with a bit more pressure, a bit longer, but slower too and he gives her a soft whine of a groan from his throat, head tilting back as his spine arches against the touch with another amount of goosebumps.

He stares at her the entire time, something devilish and wicked in his gaze as he tugs on her hair and lowers himself to press his chest against hers again, sliding himself down her torso a small amount to kiss at the base of her neck. “I will never get any sleep if you keep it up.” He rumbles against the hollow of her neck, pressing his hungry kisses to her, surprised at how much of a reaction it had received from him. It’s evident in the way he presses himself against her, the hunger to his kisses, the thirst to the hoarseness of his voice.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint