tell the wolves I'm home
His sounds were muffled things, borne in concentrations within his lungs on breaths and sighs, moans and grunts, until he filled the space with echoes of contentment, pleasure, and carnal avarice. Yet to fully succumb, he was right on the edge and verge regardless, striving to appease the situation while simultaneously craving and yearning to plunge and persist and forgo all of it entirely. It built in the base of his spine and whittled away at edges, bones, and muscles, building into a wild and craving crescendo the moment her lips went further; barely capable of indulging another warning on the tip of his tongue. “Evie,” came out as extended, roughened growl, an intentional signal of impending release, hands fisting into the sheets and hips still undulating, the tips of her nails driving into sensations and semblances.
Whether she’d choose to abide the physical notice, or continue onward in taking him fully was entirely up to her – she’d have a few moments to decide before he unfurled with stars behind his eyes and bestial moans.
Whether she’d choose to abide the physical notice, or continue onward in taking him fully was entirely up to her – she’d have a few moments to decide before he unfurled with stars behind his eyes and bestial moans.
the ressurected sword
