wc: 7+
SoSuWriMo: 719
There was such an urgency building between them that she could feel it, tangible flames licking against her skin, spiting the cold breath of winter beyond. This felt like rebellion, and to a child who had grown up without a need for it, the act was as addictive as the drugs she smoked. But nothing that felt so good could ever be wrong - That was what Juniper Peace had taught China Rose, the utter beauty of self-liberation, the act of seeking pleasure in spite of societal construct. She cared little for his age, for his name, for his pack. For him, she cared greatly, but that was the way of these fleeting moments. Perhaps one day, enlightened, this would be seen as sin. But now it felt right. More, it felt necessary. His touch had built her up, and there was the keen blade-edge of a need now, something that needed to be fulfilled before she could again grasp sane thought.
The boy must have felt likewise, for he did not resist the gentle pressure of her hands, tan fingers lost now in the wild mane of pale gold. Their noses touched, just slightly, and she could see it - The tipping of chemicals in his eyes, the clifftop spiraling away as they plunged into the deep of it. A rough pink tongue rewarded her efforts, and she released a delighted peal of laughter, a surprisingly sultry sound from one so perfectly pristine.
His hand was at her neck, surprisingly firm. Gone was the boy's wary hesitance. It seemed he, too, had come to know that this was not all there was. His grip was surprisingly strong on such a fragile, sensitive area, and thrill - not fear, not that, but thrill - raced through her heady frame. The freedom that was her divine right seemed startled by the suddenness of his possession, but China did not care. She wanted to be claimed (for now, anyway), and if he was bold enough to try, then let him. She belonged to no one, and without a doubt, her heart probably never would. The organ was too arbitrary for that sort of devotion, too frivolous to be held but by force.
She loved, oh yes. She loved them all, each decrepit and wasted fool. But to be owned, now, that was something different.
She allowed herself to be temporarily tamed; the pleasant weight of his heavier frame coaxed her backwards, a pretense of submission to the boy's riled affections. The ground was cold against her spine and almost instantly she arched, claiming the warm of his body until at last the ground succumbed to the heat her slender form emanated. Lying there, one leg still tangled about his body, she gaze up with potent eyes - Rounded pupils were full and intoxicated, mouth parted slightly in a smooth, lazy smile.
He was impatient. Warm palms scoured her body again, finding pert breast with single-minded intent. She cooed softly as lucid body swam like liquid to his touch, cerulean eyes feral and deviant with desire. Hands that had been lost in hair now glided about that young form, to his chest, then the soft planes of his stomach. The fur there was very soft, and she glided her fingers through it lovingly.
There was power, here, a power she held over him. Her body was worshiped by those young hands. There was a power, here.
Also, there was something in his eyes, something she had been aware of but had ignored till now. China was unsure of where it came from, but her teasing hands stilled their downwards progress, her body falling still beneath that delightful touch, although it cried agony as such indignation. Much as she craved him, the wizened Lykoi instincts had stirred in her fevered blood, and demanded now to be heard. She held his gaze, held it hard, pinned it with those deviant slanted eyes. "Do you want me?" Spoken in a sinful whisper, the words were a pledge, a silent contract. All that was left now was for him to sign away his loyalty. This was the fee that must be paid. "Do you love me?" That enchanting smile. She could give him everything, but it came with this price. Love was such a deceptive word.
[/html]