Deimos
Fire was the anthem and theme: a staccato rhythm building beneath his ribs, searing over his heart. Wanton, carnal dimensions in the blink of eyes and embers, in the glow of the hearth’s flames nearby, illuminating past canopies of blankets and fortifications, onto flesh and souls. A rushing, zealous, ardent need pressing into scalding aches, forgoing past natures and boundaries.
They barely broke apart, though in the rush and zeal he couldn’t help but laugh, mouth against her cheek if she moved slightly askew, or along her ear, a nip below on her nape, before finding her lips once more. He could feel her own tug and pull on his pants, but in teasing measure, could only drag it out a further with a rapt chuckle, peeling away his shirt instead, tossing it somewhere.
Thereafter, his fingers began their instinctual outlining, from her hip and waist to her thighs, tracing along the inside of soft skin, goading, luring, beguiling.
They barely broke apart, though in the rush and zeal he couldn’t help but laugh, mouth against her cheek if she moved slightly askew, or along her ear, a nip below on her nape, before finding her lips once more. He could feel her own tug and pull on his pants, but in teasing measure, could only drag it out a further with a rapt chuckle, peeling away his shirt instead, tossing it somewhere.
Thereafter, his fingers began their instinctual outlining, from her hip and waist to her thighs, tracing along the inside of soft skin, goading, luring, beguiling.
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
