DEIMOS
The ruse and taunting were only there for mere moments, then played out on rhythms, on scales, on desire, ardor, and pleasure; coaxing on each twist and turn of his hips. They were wanton things, much less generals and bakers, and more scintillating forces, pressed together in their feral, savage needs, in their gasping reels, in their gaps and moans. Here, they were not worthless or failures. Here, they were not broken, bent, or damned. His throat barbed a croon from the rumbles of his chest as her fingers splayed across undulating muscles, a song for her and only her, no battle minstrels, no war outcries, no bellowing howls, no silent well, tucked away and reticent. Movements and motions were for her, for her, for her, tongue inciting an anthem behind their teeth, breath rushed and irreverent, a sibilance as her leg hooked around his back and urged him closer. He wanted her unleashed, without consternation, without trepidation, without all the other nuances and sentiments miring and muddling her sights – drowned in ecstasy, in contentment, away and away from the crashing world outside those doors. She arched and he followed, ravenous, rapacious, greedy, and acquisitive, mercenary emblems in the heat of their infernos – when his lips were not scorching on her mouth, they trailed down her nape, behind her ear, hot, infernal breath billowing and grasping, an echo of her name like prayers he’d rarely spoken or uttered. They were plumes and sighs and lust along begging, pleading intervals, and Deimos waited until her figure was drawn and taut, until she crashed, until the embers of her igniting seared, simmered, and smoldered, taking her psalms, her paeans, played out their crescendos, their waves, their crashing tides. He wanted her scorched, set aflame, ready to ignite the world on the alms of her convictions, her vows, her oaths.Then his senses were immersed in the storm, a guttural groan smothered and hissing in the gilded strands tucked against her neck, in the heated, glorified weight of the world, released and unraveled, a shudder in potent, powerful brawn. Sentiments overrun on the beacons of satisfaction, his lips chased her down once more, a chuckle immersed in unsung accolades, kisses running down the length of her throat as their breaths rushed and chests expanded. He hovered over her once more, a curious tilt to his head, hooded gaze taking her in, staring into sable and black and nothing like voids or abysses at all, but evening skies and their illusive enigmas. Then he dipped again, tongue sweeping along the salt at her breasts, following down again when idle curiosity took him, when the promise of more beckoned and beat at him. The fiend returned to her hip, where unknown scars stood out, and he found he craved their story, just as much as she’d strived to enamor his – all the lines, all the brutalities, all the tales of survival. “How did you acquire these?” He deliberately inhaled, then exhaled across their expanse, a tickle, a torment, a tease over ravished skin, beard purposefully bristling along flesh.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
