DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
At the arch of her spine and the spill of her moan, his own rapacious needs contorted to the back of his spine, flickered through each raw and rhythmic movement. As she sank into the mattress and pillows, he persisted, though he noted she didn’t permit the slow, leisurely pace he’d fully intended to set; a scheme course-corrected as he snorted into her neck, trying not to laugh. Instead the ghostly billowing of his breath turned into sumptuous, rich groans, placed into the curve of her shoulder and neck, or against her mouth, sketched outlines of amusement and scintillating pleasure coaxed despite the alteration in plans.
The conviction in her hitches, in her unsteady breaths, did initiate a bark of a laugh this time, in between his own muddled moans. Deimos had enough stamina, fortitude, and endurance to take these stoked emblems and infernos for quite a while – but he had no intention of incensing embers already promised to be conflagrations. “Fine,” he joked in a quick murmur, gritting it out between clenched jaws and teeth, then dashing his lips downward, following paths of encouragement, entangled in her, in the sway, in the ecstasy. Sometimes it was best to let the fire itself consume and devour – so he altered the pace, deeper, quicker thrusts, accompanied by the addition of his fingers, to drive her into the spread of blankets, to spiral outward, to be unfurled, no longer knotted and gnarled.
The conviction in her hitches, in her unsteady breaths, did initiate a bark of a laugh this time, in between his own muddled moans. Deimos had enough stamina, fortitude, and endurance to take these stoked emblems and infernos for quite a while – but he had no intention of incensing embers already promised to be conflagrations. “Fine,” he joked in a quick murmur, gritting it out between clenched jaws and teeth, then dashing his lips downward, following paths of encouragement, entangled in her, in the sway, in the ecstasy. Sometimes it was best to let the fire itself consume and devour – so he altered the pace, deeper, quicker thrusts, accompanied by the addition of his fingers, to drive her into the spread of blankets, to spiral outward, to be unfurled, no longer knotted and gnarled.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
