Some men might have taken offense at her words - might have found the effort and aggression she requires too much - but Sunjata laughs, and Thal immediately knows that she's made the right choice tonight. She flicks her tail, not moving as she waits expectantly for him to act, to prove that he's more than some tame toy she can push around.
Despite the intense tracking of her gaze, he fades seductively into a shadow, her heartrate nearly purring with anticipation. She doesn't expect the blast of water that bursts forth, and she can't dart before it has her in its grasp, winding around her middle to secure her to the solid wood of the bedpost. The water itself is a hard current, coiling and rushing around her to keep her in place as Sunjata appears back in proximity.
His fingers grip her jaw, angling it up so he can mark her neck in a pinched bite of skin, no longer soft lips or nips. It's a start, her blood answering with a soft ripple of heat that has her smirking around a huff of dark laughter. "Better," she croons, although the praise is muted, suggesting that he still has farther to go until she's satisfied.
She answers by placing on hand tight around his horn and another deceptively gentle hand against his chest. There's heat on her fingertips - just shy of the burning point - and she drags it across scars and muscle down towards his abdomen and lower, waiting for the seething breath of pain, for him to stop her or urge her on.
Despite the intense tracking of her gaze, he fades seductively into a shadow, her heartrate nearly purring with anticipation. She doesn't expect the blast of water that bursts forth, and she can't dart before it has her in its grasp, winding around her middle to secure her to the solid wood of the bedpost. The water itself is a hard current, coiling and rushing around her to keep her in place as Sunjata appears back in proximity.
His fingers grip her jaw, angling it up so he can mark her neck in a pinched bite of skin, no longer soft lips or nips. It's a start, her blood answering with a soft ripple of heat that has her smirking around a huff of dark laughter. "Better," she croons, although the praise is muted, suggesting that he still has farther to go until she's satisfied.
She answers by placing on hand tight around his horn and another deceptively gentle hand against his chest. There's heat on her fingertips - just shy of the burning point - and she drags it across scars and muscle down towards his abdomen and lower, waiting for the seething breath of pain, for him to stop her or urge her on.
we care so much until we don't
Thalassa
