the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe

but the darker the weather, the better the man

you can take all you want

He does want her, and every time he looks to her that’s all he can see — that craving need, the devouring sense of overwhelming her, of showing her new experiences, new ways to live life, to perhaps corrupt a bit of innocence that she’s had remaining sheltered for so long. But he also knows the weight the looks he gives her holds, knows the way of his gaze lingers in one place over another that she would react differently. And he loves it.

His mouth is on hers again, sharing in the sounds they make as he continues to thrust — perhaps a bit more desperately, trying to reach that spot she likes so much. But he has her hands pinned by her wrists, his body keeping her right where he wants her, and when she pricks her tongue along a fang of his and iron erupts in his mouth, and he purrs against it. He tears his lips from her own, blood remaining along his lips as she tests the way he has her wrists pinned.

And he gives her a positively feline look, tongue raking along his lower lip and he thrusts harder into her again, silver eyes smoldering and burning, his body tense and thrumming, a taut string.

but not who i am

SuNJATA