It's a feeling we always chase

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He can hear her voice loud and bright as he lowers her down into him, biting onto her neck as he pushes her down, releasing his bite to her neck when she pushes herself back to take all of him. The sensation is one that covers all of his senses, acutely aware of the way she shudders and he thrusts back into her. And she becomes unleashed in a sense, like he had become when she’d brushed ghostlike hands over the edge of membrane of his bat wing shift.

Right now, all he has is the partially shifted fangs, the horns that part from his hair from beneath where her nails had just scraped and raked down his scalp. But he gives into her regardless, head tilting back when she seeks out his own neck – letting her latch on and bite as he continues to use the leverage he has to lift her up and push her down, hips moving with the movement he gives with his hands to drive him deeper. Sweat shines along his skin in the dim candle light, turning bronze to a golden flickering flame while one hand abandons the task of lifting her, letting her take the reins in helping him fuck her, dragging those claws along her side and back, tangling in her hair to pull at it and aim to arch her back.

All while his hips keep moving, growls slipping from his throat, trying to near his head to her chest to leave lingering marks along her collarbone and breasts – to kiss and bite and taunt with the trace of his tongue to seek her nipple.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell