tell the wolves I'm home
Ethereal and elemental fixtures alight and ignited; complements and foils to the divergences of their distinctions – his steadiness, her fire, a rush and resemblance of echoes and footfalls, patterns and adornments. Sometimes found in the haze of her fingertips or the mischievous quirk of his grin, caught, tethered, and looped in a contorted sanction all their own. How they’d managed to set one another ablaze again and again and again with all the incandescent measures known to their bodies and souls. How they’d entangled and stayed, despite hardships and wars and everything else laden amidst and amongst the storms and serenities. He’d grant and give and chase right alongside her basking, yearning hands, and she’d do the same. It was all they needed.
His patience alone didn’t seem to sate though, because she still coaxed and raced as though there was naught more than consuming and devouring. He might’ve laughed again, shaken his head in the glaze of salt scorching over their skin, but his mouth dipped along her brow and hovered over her cheek instead, body following hers with its resonance. Feral hisses, complex moans, still left his lips when her touch pushed and cajoled into unrelenting rhythms, as she wound her way over his chest and neck and hair, a distant growl echoing from his lungs. Incessant and insistent need amidst the love, embroiled in her motions and arches, hips rising to meet hers over and over –
Though he couldn’t help but chuckle across reddened cheeks as she reached another crescendo, clenching around him and still greedily grinding and taking; as if climbing a mountain and not pausing to rest, to breathe, to linger. “You okay?” He checked in, ghosts of his lips skimming over her flesh, before he maneuvered near her ear, teeth lightly raking as they persisted in their treks and multitudes; savoring and savoring and savoring. One hand grabbed and reached, tucking her pressing hips deeper into his, each thrust a deeper, piercing depth; while the other’s fingers lingered near her thighs, an act of lure and persuasion through more and more feverish touch. To bestow her more before he raked over, nearing the apex of his own release.
His patience alone didn’t seem to sate though, because she still coaxed and raced as though there was naught more than consuming and devouring. He might’ve laughed again, shaken his head in the glaze of salt scorching over their skin, but his mouth dipped along her brow and hovered over her cheek instead, body following hers with its resonance. Feral hisses, complex moans, still left his lips when her touch pushed and cajoled into unrelenting rhythms, as she wound her way over his chest and neck and hair, a distant growl echoing from his lungs. Incessant and insistent need amidst the love, embroiled in her motions and arches, hips rising to meet hers over and over –
Though he couldn’t help but chuckle across reddened cheeks as she reached another crescendo, clenching around him and still greedily grinding and taking; as if climbing a mountain and not pausing to rest, to breathe, to linger. “You okay?” He checked in, ghosts of his lips skimming over her flesh, before he maneuvered near her ear, teeth lightly raking as they persisted in their treks and multitudes; savoring and savoring and savoring. One hand grabbed and reached, tucking her pressing hips deeper into his, each thrust a deeper, piercing depth; while the other’s fingers lingered near her thighs, an act of lure and persuasion through more and more feverish touch. To bestow her more before he raked over, nearing the apex of his own release.
the ressurected sword
