SUNJATA
the flood
snow glistens on the ledge, whiskey on the bed
shake it out and light a cigarette
shake it out and light a cigarette
It’s a dance, one where the two of them both can indulge in the dangers and recklessness — why else would they be here right now if it weren’t for the recklessness, the selfishness of giving into the feeling of lust and sins and heat in a cold Halo night. Sure, there’s a hearth with a flame that responds in kind to Weaver’s magic, but it’s nothing like the fire he draws from her, nothing like the hoarse ferality of her voice, coloring the air. It’s nothing compared to the blood that hums in his veins when he feels the press of the sheath of the blade against his back as he urges her closer.
It’s nothing compared to the way he wants to take her. And he could, realistically, play to his hearts content, but there’s that wave that’s formed within her that mimics his own — still trapped beneath fabric, seeking an out for himself, burning and burning. But ah the reaction he gets when he slides the finger in, toying and playing. No, he doesn’t want to give into her just yet.
So reluctantly, he withdraws, breath heavy as he presses apologetic kisses to the insides of her thighs, shifting a small amount from where he is with her legs hooked around his shoulders, to undo the belt he wears, the button to the pants he wears, hissing something nearly snakelike with the relief that that brings. He hovers over her now, fishing into a pocket for the protection he seeks (because he really isn’t in the mood for a surprise later) and let’s his gaze focus on her with the same smoldering steel as before, shadowed by the lust and desire brimming within them. And he has two choices now — indulge her with muscles that already tremble from supporting his weight this long, or pulling her over to him as he initially had done.
He figures he’ll let her decide, hovering over her with roaming hands as he seeks her collarbone and neck to kiss and bite, craving more of the burn and flame she has to offer.
It’s nothing compared to the way he wants to take her. And he could, realistically, play to his hearts content, but there’s that wave that’s formed within her that mimics his own — still trapped beneath fabric, seeking an out for himself, burning and burning. But ah the reaction he gets when he slides the finger in, toying and playing. No, he doesn’t want to give into her just yet.
So reluctantly, he withdraws, breath heavy as he presses apologetic kisses to the insides of her thighs, shifting a small amount from where he is with her legs hooked around his shoulders, to undo the belt he wears, the button to the pants he wears, hissing something nearly snakelike with the relief that that brings. He hovers over her now, fishing into a pocket for the protection he seeks (because he really isn’t in the mood for a surprise later) and let’s his gaze focus on her with the same smoldering steel as before, shadowed by the lust and desire brimming within them. And he has two choices now — indulge her with muscles that already tremble from supporting his weight this long, or pulling her over to him as he initially had done.
He figures he’ll let her decide, hovering over her with roaming hands as he seeks her collarbone and neck to kiss and bite, craving more of the burn and flame she has to offer.
miss me when you, you wish you weren't right
shake me all out if i'm wrong, for you, for you
shake me all out if i'm wrong, for you, for you
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
