Short, derp. Yay for the naughty time. Faded out.
Talitha was so often one of pretty words and careful fog that her sudden and unreasoned determination surprised her. Lust had never been an integral part of the de le Poer's life; sure, she'd been with other men, but lust was not the word for it; with Caillen, however, it seemed ever present. Crimson eyes remained on him as they meander past his carved trees, drinking in the face of the behemoth she knew could never be truly part of her world. Despite this, he stayed for her. He wanted her. He loved her. And both knew that it was simply not capable of being.
That was fact that couldn't be changed, and she had no desire to dwell on it once inside of the cool den. There wasn't much there; poorly-made furs littered most of the region, but they would serve their purpose. As he reached for the petite Princess, she drew him to the ground, to the ruined furs that lay there. It was no longer time for gentle words or innocent caresses. Her body shifted to accommodate his needs, clawed fingers finding their place in the flesh of his back — everything was made better with her lover's presence.
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