COLT
He's accommodating, aware of every movement, masterful in his acquiescence. It tugs on her desire and little by little the smell of peppermint and sea salt that's clung to him like the memory of campfire smoke begins to fade into something else, something woody and rain-rich, a sun dappled river instead of the ocean and it's night. The hew of his stubble against her leaves a mild sting that has her biting at the edge of her lip in appreciation. It’s not pain, just something raw, the skin there heightened for everything that follows.
The drape of his wings around her sends her eyes tracing along their curve. There’s rain still coming down around them, drumming steady against feathers and skin alike, but underneath it’s warmer, darker, like he's built something just for them right there in the grass. She stretches into it, hands skating along his shoulders, fingers drifting down the edge of the feathers, droplets flicking free with the movement.
Underneath the canopy, her nightshirt peels away easily, exposing her to the storm and his mouth both. His lips and tongue find her and a shiver cuts right down through her center. She arches up into him with a sound she doesn’t bother to stifle, greedy for more, her body slick with rain and want. The rain-cooled air makes her nipples stiffen, but it’s his mouth—hot and sure—that makes her squirm. She fists her hand in his hair, not to stop him, never that, but to keep herself grounded as his mouth threatens to send her drifting away into the rain. Her hips tilt against him, an ache for more that he's already mindful of.
When he moves to rid them both of what’s left, she lifts her hips to help, watching with half-lidded eyes and a grin that borders on wicked as more of him is revealed—including the rest of those scars. “Now I don't have to imagine,” she murmurs, a hand reaching to trace one near his hip, fingers featherlight against the raised skin. Her touch trails lower, exploring the full map of him now that he’s uncovered. She hums low in her throat at his arousal, appreciative. Her palm curves around him, heat blooming like coals stirred to life—and it’s her own body that answers, aching low and steady.
The drape of his wings around her sends her eyes tracing along their curve. There’s rain still coming down around them, drumming steady against feathers and skin alike, but underneath it’s warmer, darker, like he's built something just for them right there in the grass. She stretches into it, hands skating along his shoulders, fingers drifting down the edge of the feathers, droplets flicking free with the movement.
Underneath the canopy, her nightshirt peels away easily, exposing her to the storm and his mouth both. His lips and tongue find her and a shiver cuts right down through her center. She arches up into him with a sound she doesn’t bother to stifle, greedy for more, her body slick with rain and want. The rain-cooled air makes her nipples stiffen, but it’s his mouth—hot and sure—that makes her squirm. She fists her hand in his hair, not to stop him, never that, but to keep herself grounded as his mouth threatens to send her drifting away into the rain. Her hips tilt against him, an ache for more that he's already mindful of.
When he moves to rid them both of what’s left, she lifts her hips to help, watching with half-lidded eyes and a grin that borders on wicked as more of him is revealed—including the rest of those scars. “Now I don't have to imagine,” she murmurs, a hand reaching to trace one near his hip, fingers featherlight against the raised skin. Her touch trails lower, exploring the full map of him now that he’s uncovered. She hums low in her throat at his arousal, appreciative. Her palm curves around him, heat blooming like coals stirred to life—and it’s her own body that answers, aching low and steady.
I ain't sayin' that I always sleep alone
Done a little bit of midnight movin' on
I never let my heart go all the way
I never fall in love, baby, just in case
Done a little bit of midnight movin' on
I never let my heart go all the way
I never fall in love, baby, just in case
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
