your hands are scarred from murder

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

She resists from his attempts, feeble as they were in the way he tried not to hurt her. But he can still feel her as if his attempts had only raised her slightly from the position — the purring tone of her voice causing him to hiss his frustration again. Her mouth is at his neck and he exposes more of it to her, a small attempt to get her distracted enough that he might be able to get his way. His hands move from her hips as she slips down onto his cock a small amount further, a shuddering groan leaving his throat as he zeroes in on her mentally as if she’s some sort of conquest. His hands trail up her backside a small amount before lowering to her thighs again.

“You temptress…” He growls to her, the burning becoming a bit more of a demand now, and he tilts his head toward her shoulder as it nears him, kissing and nipping at the skin there. “You know, I would be far more rough without you if you weren’t bruised everywhere.” He purrs playfully against her skin, tilting his head to her neck if it’s available to him. “How am I going to mark you when it all blends in?” He drags his fangs lightly against her skin with the very same playfulness as before. And then, his hands curl around the muscle of her thighs to pull them toward him a small amount, to try and take what balance she has currently away in the hopes it might drop her down onto him.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint