It takes a leap of faith

Amalia

---

stop thinking so much

---

He responds with as much playful patience as Amalia has come to expect, teasing and taunting, rising to each challenge, responding with mischief and adoration, pushing and compelling until she breaks, his name on her lips, her need in his hands. Is it wrong to revere him with such fervor, to find solace and absolution in his touch? No, she thinks- no, their bodies were made by Rae, compelled by Frey, given the ability to love and lust and shudder and shiver by the will of the gods. It is a new sort of reverence, of piety, of prayer, one she has never sought to engage in, never before him.

She makes an altar of his body and lays down hymns, sings praises to the moon and sun, offers herself again and again, happy to be captured, compelled, his and his and his. Their eyes meet and the girl shudders, grinning, red-faced, wild and free, devouring his growls, basking in the knowledge that she brings forth such sound. Slowly, steadily, they move in tandem, frenzy abandoned for purpose and love, intimacy in the way he plays her body, eliciting songs and gasps from her lips.

The curve of her spine increases, arching, pleasure drawing every line of her supple form taught as she descends again, their hips once more meeting, fire and desire blooming through her loins. Surrender makes her body shudder; she lets him continue to set the pace, compliant and needy, no longer aching, no longer demanding or in control. Dark eyes close once again as she stifles a growl of a groan, lip between her teeth, hands coiled and clenched on his skin. Incoherent and close to oblivion, she shivers and gasps, his name half whispered, half moaned, half sung. She is on the cusp, easily brought there by his ministrations; she wants to fall off the edge with him, to take them both over that precipice, to crescendo and crash alongside her lover, bliss brought on by his embrace.

---

you're breaking your own heart

---