DEIMOS
Endless amusement, and relief, to be wanted – to have the time, the opportunity, the moments pulsing, winding together. Not rejection, but heat and wanton desires, not refusal, but devotion, not peeling away, but showing, sharing adoration, clutching, grasping, craving. It permitted his mischief, the portions of him hidden and shoved away except for the chosen few, for those he cherished, trusted, and loved. Her growls fueled, invoked, inspired, and roused, a meticulous, scrupulous design, etching his grasp slowly along her frame, skirting over fabric, intending to rest at her hips. Her leg held him there, flushed against one another, the smirk curling, coiling along his mouth, reckless, unrelenting –
And the squeak that followed earned more soft chuckles, a reverberation of collected formations in his chest – wriggling away from him, palms empty due to his impish decrees and actions. The beast arched his brow at her dramatics, watching with his hooded gaze, drawing his eyes over her exposed skin, the reaches of her spine. The barbaric inclinations in his bones, in his blood, pondered reaching forward, grasping, holding, mouth, teeth, and tongue following the etched details of shoulders, the back of her neck.
But he’d save that for later.
Devilry continued to scald, rolling his shoulders in a dramatic shrug, undulations of muscles and movement. “All to myself then.” Only thereafter did he pull down the remains of his clothing, tossing them aside, bare and bereft, stepping within the filling tub, settling himself against the back. The look on his features might have been described as smug, pleased, content, a purposeful sigh dragged from his lungs as the hot water pervaded along his skin.
And the squeak that followed earned more soft chuckles, a reverberation of collected formations in his chest – wriggling away from him, palms empty due to his impish decrees and actions. The beast arched his brow at her dramatics, watching with his hooded gaze, drawing his eyes over her exposed skin, the reaches of her spine. The barbaric inclinations in his bones, in his blood, pondered reaching forward, grasping, holding, mouth, teeth, and tongue following the etched details of shoulders, the back of her neck.
But he’d save that for later.
Devilry continued to scald, rolling his shoulders in a dramatic shrug, undulations of muscles and movement. “All to myself then.” Only thereafter did he pull down the remains of his clothing, tossing them aside, bare and bereft, stepping within the filling tub, settling himself against the back. The look on his features might have been described as smug, pleased, content, a purposeful sigh dragged from his lungs as the hot water pervaded along his skin.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
