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[/html]The thought of being examined in kind aroused Hybrid in a way he had since forgotten. The departure of his previous lovers had left him angry and bitter and far too full of range to ever appeal to a new one. He and Samael had carved scars in each other’s flesh and Hybrid had fucked Samael knowing the only one he would ever desire was Kaena. Maybe it was fucked up and maybe Hybrid had wanted something more from Samael, but that hadn’t come to pass. Since then, and since Samael’s many reappearances – as well as the appearance of his fucking little jackal pieces of shit children – Hybrid hadn’t done anything or anyone. He had existed, but if he ever came, it was into his own hand. It would probably sound even more pathetic out loud than in his head, so he kept it to himself. He would take this grizzled warrior who was sharp in mind and body. He would take this grizzled warrior and make him his own by carving his name into his flesh. Kesho would bear his mark, whatever he decided it to be.
Hybrid smirked when he saw Kesho flush – or do something akin to it – in response to his demand. It felt so good to have won this. Hybrid chuckled and then dropped to his knees in front of Kesho and then lowered his weight onto the palms of his hands so that they were only a few centimetres away.
“Turn over,” he commanded. “Onto your back.” Hybrid didn’t want this to just be some quick jaunt in the woods. No, he prided himself on being a passionate warrior and a passionate fucker. Or, fuck, something like that. Now he was getting all romantic. All he wanted to do was shove his dick somewhere and in someone. Was that so romantic? Fuck no.