DEIMOS
The Sword was not a merciful creature, depending on circumstances. Adversaries and enemies, opponents and challengers, rarely saw anything beyond stoicism or abhorrence. Bludgeoning, beating, an unrelenting force of vitriol, vehemence, spite, pettiness, and power. Here, in the shelter and confines of their rapidly beating hearts, their penchant for giving and taking, the rapacious edges of lust and love and satisfaction, he could relent. A little.
But only when she’d appealed for it; mewls and moans, sighs and softness, the tightening fractions of where they were headed. Desperation in the molten thread of her hands were a given, and he couldn’t help the echoing fronds of laughter pluming across her skin, slinking from his mouth, absorbed by the water, by the dire, swift yearning. It inspired another snort to echo, to reassure, to acknowledge.
There were a few more slides of his fingers against her, heated brushstrokes of the infernal, before it left for half a moment more – ensuring protection broadened over himself, contorted and created swiftly, easily. Angles altered slightly, hands splayed, strength and might and precision all in the balm of muscle, undulations shifting beneath her touch, before he pushed, where she’d be enveloped by him, and then the stony fixtures of the wall; features tilted into hers, a hazy breath coasting and ghosting over her cheek, her hair, her neck.
But only when she’d appealed for it; mewls and moans, sighs and softness, the tightening fractions of where they were headed. Desperation in the molten thread of her hands were a given, and he couldn’t help the echoing fronds of laughter pluming across her skin, slinking from his mouth, absorbed by the water, by the dire, swift yearning. It inspired another snort to echo, to reassure, to acknowledge.
There were a few more slides of his fingers against her, heated brushstrokes of the infernal, before it left for half a moment more – ensuring protection broadened over himself, contorted and created swiftly, easily. Angles altered slightly, hands splayed, strength and might and precision all in the balm of muscle, undulations shifting beneath her touch, before he pushed, where she’d be enveloped by him, and then the stony fixtures of the wall; features tilted into hers, a hazy breath coasting and ghosting over her cheek, her hair, her neck.
who we were before bones, before dirt, before even light
we have always been deep, restless souls
we have always been deep, restless souls
