DEIMOS
Perhaps he should’ve allowed her to work him until he was completely undone, a writhing mass of enlightened bones and released senses, skin aflame, refrains set to burst from his lungs, growling and pressing until there was no escape but in her essence, in her entity, in her presence, a tangible, unrelenting force of ardor and fervency. But part of their games had always been unpredictable throngs, chasing down the rules and then laying them to waste, charmed by the airs of mischief, deigned superior in the realm of devilry; and he sank into equality, into giving and taking and back again, casting any selfish, base needs to untamed collusion, to wild, feral, molten, smoldering unity. There was a moment of protest, and had it not been immersed in playful antics he would’ve ceased altogether, her lips sending their caresses, their strokes, their heat, their passion on the rippling cords of his flesh. His gasps and reverberations were scintillating, ardent aches, drawn, sketched, and molded from her avid attention, moments and fragments he could have for all eternity – an electric hum on his skin, echoing on the boundaries of his lungs, of his throat, brimming, brewing, beseeching, breath ghosting and billowing back over her lips as she sought to devour and consume. He orchestrated the same, concocted and coiled and contorted the foundations of their ether on the plumes, on the embers, on the haze, mouth hungry and avaricious under her bewitching fervor, eyes closing just to feel, feel, feel, needing nothing else.
The beast swallowed her initial gasp, but then she was gone – rising back up on arches and splendor, palms, fingers, grasp on his chest (heartbeat riotous, chaotic, his savage drumbeat for her, for her, for her) while he maintained a rhythm beneath; waves and torrents, no shallows, but deep, illustrious fathoms. The undulations were long, lingering tides, his hands first on her hips, before drifting down, like the sea, like the sands, like the hot, hazy sun, sliding to her outer thighs; not allowing her to sink, but to glide, to hover, to float, to sail on the keening, tidal oscillations.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
