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At first, his rushed touch had left her mere pin points underneath her rich fur, without red flow powerful enough to stain her fur a richer hue. But oh, it changed, changed as she forced his skin to burst and release lovely currents of read stream down to stain the both of them. She couldn’t see the lovely lines she had painted on his back, though it didn’t take long for her paws to detect the undeniable slickness of his back, his thick fur no doubt soaked by the hot currents her claw had released through their wild journey. She revelled in its form, taste, and the rich, weighted fragrance of metal clouded her senses.
His responding snarl roared in deaf ears, throbbing along to race with her wicked pulse. Her chest heaved with the rush of sensations, of the building waves he forced through her. She burned beneath him, vocal chords slightly muted by the need for every thrust into her receptive form. No time had been wasted on foolish, overrated foreplay to guide them into irresistible play. She didn’t ache for the build-up as she ached for his erect masculinity. And whether he had understood her needs or given into his own was irrelevant, for the present and its existing, building currents of numb, carnal pleasures was all she could comprehend.
Only when his teeth sank into his flesh did the woman let out an involucre cry as her nerves equally screamed with the overload of pain. The unforgivable pressure from his strong jaws brought her world to a stand-still, urging on the unbearable pressure of long, sharp daggers digging, digging through skin and flesh and muscle. Her voice had emitted a cry of pain rather than purified pleasure, but her damaged mind screamed YES! Her eyes shut tight at the inferno bathing her shoulders and the claws she had buried into his skin managed only to cling against his moving form; desperate to hold on to something solid as her head span with the overdose of impressions. Blood ran thick from injuries from them both now, and the odour of blood seemed so tangible to her overactive senses that she felt as if she was about to choke on it.
Goaded on by the friction and feel of his thrusting member, muscles within her tensed and cramped, finally overcome by the building sensation that at last had been overcome as pain and pleasure came together, unstoppable and inescapable. Warmth and bliss washed through her and swallowed her in its white embrace while the flame still licked through her soaked consciousness. When scarlet eyes opened again, his jaws had released her shoulders, and her own blood soaked into the soft wolf fur underneath. Feeling the heat of Helotes’ seed spill within her soft walls, she was coherent enough to think it sad that it was too soon for life to quicken in her womb. The sensation kept her heart rate high, and a delighted hiss rode on top of her still shallow breaths as she felt him grow inside her.
Claws retracted from his wet flesh, and it wasn’t necessary for her to glance away from the male’s blood stained face to know that her hands too were coated with a slick, red shine. The taste of his was still vivid on her tongue, sharp teeth temporarily painted pink from her violent kiss. Although he had released her shoulder, a deep throb followed in his absence, forcing whipping, deep pain to pulse along with each beat of her leaping heart.How dared he! As he leaned down to let his raspy tongue leap across her bleeding shoulder, armed, clenched maw leaned against the length of his chin; almost affectionately. Although the possibility for continued retribution was there, she wasn’t senseless any longer.
The wild beast that had been released had burned out like a perished candle’s flame, and she’d rather bask in this ache. She hurt, but so did he. The pain was sharp and crippling, but so very sweet. Her hunger had been sated; the climax fading, though lingering like a tangible memory on top of sensitive skin. She was glad that he would be unable to escape for some time yet. She wrapped her remaining free leg around his thigh as well, keeping him there while her palm slipped around the small of his masculine back, though without the cruelty previously demonstrated. He had bled enough for her, and she had achieved the goals she had set out. Even if their bodies hadn’t weren’t joined by accompanying love, carnal satisfaction would still run though her, lazy and good at the feel. If it hadn’t been for her children, she’d almost have been tempted to ask him to stay.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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