FOX
Utterly undone by the lithe, warm body between his legs, Fox hums a note of wicked pleasure against her, his hands rising further to the soft arch of her back and ribs, letting her shimmy out of the rest of her clothes all she likes. She's small and delicate and fiery in ways he can't properly describe, and only when he's forced to come up for air does he part enough to gaze up at her. With her fingers wrapped in his hair and heat on his cheeks that obscures the freckles on his nose, the hunter can barely look away, caught in the endless blue of her eyes.
Gods is right, and though the sound she drags from his throat isn't really a word, it's a close enough approximation. The pressure against his horns is something both unexpected and euphoric, the feeling rivalled only by the near unbearable friction in his pants. "You're stunning," he manages, just about, his fingers walking the length of her spine to ghost along the back of her neck.
Gods is right, and though the sound she drags from his throat isn't really a word, it's a close enough approximation. The pressure against his horns is something both unexpected and euphoric, the feeling rivalled only by the near unbearable friction in his pants. "You're stunning," he manages, just about, his fingers walking the length of her spine to ghost along the back of her neck.
astra inclinant, sed non obligant
Horns: Small, bone-like protrusions (aka your stereotypical devil horns) that are easy to miss in his hair.
