PHOEBE
It all falls into place naturally. It's a practiced dance, the choreography second nature, their partner moving in synch, anticipating every movement and compensating for any stumble. She grinned as he gazed down at her, knowing she was an unhealthy sort of skinny now but glad he wasn't off-put by it. He leaned forward again, capturing her lips in a kiss then moving down her jaw - her head tilted back on instinct alone, a light moan pushing through her lips as the sensation sent a shudder down her spine.
Her hands moved from his shoulders, down his back, her broken nails leaving red lines and small welts in their wake. They move on to his belt, her own trembling fingers helping him loosen the belt and shoving the offending fabric as far off his person as she can reach. As Frey might have said, this wasn't about making love, it was about fucking and in her blight induced, lust-filled state, she was more interested in getting down to business than the foreplay.
Her hands moved from his shoulders, down his back, her broken nails leaving red lines and small welts in their wake. They move on to his belt, her own trembling fingers helping him loosen the belt and shoving the offending fabric as far off his person as she can reach. As Frey might have said, this wasn't about making love, it was about fucking and in her blight induced, lust-filled state, she was more interested in getting down to business than the foreplay.
When dark creeps in and eats the light
Bury your fears on sorry night
For in the winter's darkest hours
Comes the feasting of the Vours
No one can see it, the life they stole
Your body's here but not your soul
