she had disrobed, and she was waiting on the floor

Itachi Lykoi · 02-12-2011, 11:51 AM

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Deep wine investigated the approaching spring present in her face; those smooth lines exploding into a blooming smile utterly enhancing the girl’s soft features, making him such a fool, apparently. This physical attraction—whatever it was, it seemed to change him and his preferences—his very core at that, for he found his behaviour alarmingly altered while she pulled her strings. Disengaged and mystic as always, though he was anything but that usual genuine, shallow shell in the not-so-innocent temptress’ presence. The female creature inspired him to try to see the world differently, if only for a little while. It was a breath of fresh air to his demon lungs, and black wings effervesced with her purity, though she was not innocent.

The simple sensation of her touch was appreciative, and the concentrated pulse dancing behind his chest pushed out against her with soft, rhythmic thuds. His hands embraced silvery silk layered with invasive cold, and it could speak of her alternative motives. Greed could pose as a pretty thing regardless, for she was in his arms now, and that alone could give him shallow satisfaction for time being. She spoke with words beyond him, and slowly, he paused, putting a stop to the increasing pressure set in motion by the arms encircling her. His vibrant gaze wandered upwards into a solid, pale sky as he thought of the Queen of the mountains. Naniko was the first female that had allowed a spark of dazzling mystique to amaze his body, but it was the willowy creature in his grasp that had shown him the true pleasures of the flesh.

It did not occur to him that his answer could give birth to jealousy, for crimson eyes remained secretly blue with their lack of knowledge at this subject and everything connected to it. ”There are,” but he knew very few. The male was a poor immigrant, for he had only arrived out of necessity. He was separated from the rest and well aware, for it was his own doing. But the green eyed, pale mistress had given his hormones a breath of life in the past, and the boy thought himself to be hungry for her and her winter skin. So why did the slender temptress wonder if she was in his thoughts. How would he know which thoughts were to possess him in the close future when this scene had died? ”Perhaps,” the wondering answer returned, though he supposed he would. The songbird intrigued him, even if she did not belong in his world. ”Do you think I should?”

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