I would still lay down my life for you
#22
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500+


As she lay with him, once more the world was nothing. Within the warrior’s mind there was only this man. The pack was nothing, even the delights of war were insignificant. And as a female, she could let go of such things, even if it were for that single day. But Onus gave this day to her, a gift repaid in like kind. She wanted to know only him, to know and understand him deeply again. There was a quiet fear within her, and she feared that Fate would steal her away from him, or him from her, and she did not want that. This love for Onus was different than her love for war. War was an idea, and she was as devoted to it as she was to anything. But Onus was a man, a tangible creature. She could touch his body, and she could feel his soul. She wanted to hold it carefully in her paws. She wanted to hold that warrior of Justice within her arms for all eternity.


He held her legs as his maw found that fruit between them. Her body shuddered with his touch, the pleasure and delight unable to make themselves manifest. Slowly those things she felt released themselves through sound and movement, but they built up within her, both relieved and intensified as he made her feel. The woman moaned as his tongue explored her, that sensation so delightfully foreign. She moved slightly beneath his touch, crying out softly as he explored her, caressed her, his tongue so gentle and yet so intense that her quiet sounds were uncontainable. She grew wet there, hot and quietly throbbing as he drank from her as no other had before and no other would. He had taken a forbidden fruit. She burned for it, his claws upon her skin singing her striped thighs. She gasped sharply in the quiet room, taking a sharp intake of breath, as he brushed his tongue against that most sensitive of places. Her cry grew marginally in volume, leaving her breathless as he took that last sip from her femininity.


He withdrew, but his body still warmed her. For a moment, the black fae allowed her body to relax and she simply felt him above her, feeling his heat envelope her in those burning waves. She breathed deeply, reveling in his scent and his presence, her eyes closed. He kissed her, and she kissed him in return, urgently, passionately, following him. When he spoke they opened, the white orbs seeking his eyes, clear and yet clouded by desire as she knew her own must be. Silently, the woman smiled, her hands releasing the sheets as they moved up along his body, rolling over the sinew and burning through the fire that raged upon him and within him. Her eyes lingered upon her own hands as if watching another before she looked up, her maw lingering there beneath his, their breath intermingling in that space between him. Her maw brushed against his, but she did not kiss him yet. She moved her lips to his ear. "I love you," she whispered, suddenly breathless. Then her woad bound maw returned to his, for a moment allowing them only to touch. "Show me that I’m yours." Quietly, almost silently. Show me that I’m yours and not my father’s. It was just something that she wanted to feel.

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