i hate dreaming of being alone

DEIMOS

The goading was made in impish parameters, but also selfless bestowals and grants – wanting her to fall apart first, wanting her to have the pleasure, the wild unwinding of forms, before himself. For a being who’d spent much of his first like simply taking: lives, kingdoms, bloodshed, to those he cherished and loved, he was all the more devoted to granting, to giving, to chasing down ramparts and benedictions for their benefit. Hers was all the more justified, harpooning, hovering passion and desire, his moans echoing alongside hers, intertwined fragments of heated, carnal design.

But for all his control, he could feel it faltering, flickering, curling, coiling, a rampant edge basking and brimming from within. He gave no thought to slow her down now, rising and following on their smoldering fringes, hooded gaze closing, reeling on feeling, a shudder, a shiver, revolving and reverberating through his form. With her head bowed, neck tucked away, he couldn’t reach to savor, to pluck more strings, to offer more and more and more, slipping a growl through his chest.

Except her face came to his, and the sigh, the pants, the groans bounded, stroked, and caressed her skin instead, On each thrust his mouth rose to her lips, a breathless, wanton warning contorting in his chest, in his hooded gaze; his hand inching along her thigh once more, tiny circles skimming, daring her to go before him.

i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky