<style type="text/css">
#halosimple {width:440px; padding:10px; margin:auto; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://dl.dropbox.com/u/5697571/lykoistar10.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat;}
#halosimple .ooc {text-align:right; font-family: times new roman, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:italic; line-height:1.2em;}
#halosimple p {text-align:justify; line-height:1.5em; text-indent:30px;}
#halosimple .bottom {text-align:right; font-family: times new roman, helvetica, sans-serif;}
#halosimple .bottom p {line-height:1.5em; margin:0px;text-align:right; line-height:1.2em; }
#halosimple .name {font-family: 'Calligraffitti', arial, serif; font-size:32px; line-height:1.5em; }
</style>
Although the climbing pain from a beautiful moment would have caused tears to leap forth in the eyes of a younger version of hers, the warrior remained relaxed underneath his form. He rolled over and pulled her body along with him, as they were mercilessly tied together for time being. It wasn’t an unbearable moment at all, and so pale lids framed with darker lashes fell to hood her glorious hues. Her mind withdrew and focused on the sensation of pain lashing out in climbing peaks of raw, screaming nerves. The woman was careful not to reveal the fact that the fire scattered over her red-marred body was piercing in its nature. She had started the game, and would be happy to do so again, though at another time. It was true that she didn’t know the touch of a tender and soft lover, but she hadn’t exactly been harmed like this herself.
She didn’t think she had gone too far with her actions, for she carried the blood of a dragon and wasn’t a creature that could be tamed with seduction and patience anymore. It felt like the good in her had died with Silas departure, and the ability to care for a creature in such a way. She’d deny the fact if the question had been asked, but he had broken her heart. She had been vulnerable and afraid of physical touch when their love had burned brightest, and he had left before he had fixed her. But fate had turned out as helpful as it was cruel, and instead of waiting for wounds to heal, she had been destroyed in the process. But it didn’t matter, because the man she had believed to be her soul mate wasn’t here anymore, and she wouldn’t wait for him. He had betrayed the clan and he had betrayed her. He could never come back. Never.
But the female’s tears had dried a long time ago, and her thoughts didn’t linger with the past. Instead, she let her focus drift over to the hand caressing her back. Brutality had spilled along with his seed and she guessed it was a comforting move. A prominent part of her had wished to see him turn into the monster she had seen and destroy her in the progress. But it hadn’t happened, though he had taken revenge upon her skin. It was very possible that she would have to go to her jackal brother to ensure that bad things wouldn’t fester in the still weeping marks after his teeth. It would be hard to explain what had happened, but she wasn’t in a position where it was polite to ask what she had been up to. The sensation of his claws rasping across her skin was considered pleasant, and too light to leave damaged trace in their wake. She wondered what his back looked like at this moment.
Although she hadn’t set a time when she’d expect the children to be returned to her, she wasn’t worried about the sudden appearance of her puppies and their guardian. She hoped to bask in their absence for a few more hours. There would be questions about what had happened to her, and she’d have to go out into the cold white and see if she could manage to break through enough ice to take a skinny dip by the pond, to flush out the drying blood from her pristine pelt. The both of them were a mess at the time being, but she didn’t bother to try to amend her current appearance. She looked as she should; a wild creature, still blessed with beautiful hues, though coated with deep reds and suffering through a bad hair day.
The side of his darker muzzle turned to rub against her, and she allowed it, for she didn’t have what it took to pretend she didn’t like it at the moment. Pupils shrank at the boldness of his touch as he reached for her ridiculously sensitive flesh. A growl of her own rose to compete with his softer one, though she abstained from instantaneous action. Her body squirmed lightly as she found his stroking fingers fairly unbearable because of her recent release, though it was still bad in a good way. Had he guessed what seemed to lead her on, then? Stained lips parted again with the intention to place his flesh between the jagged rows of her teeth, but she wouldn’t know find a suitable, unstained area to aim for. Instead, she curled her neck in under the man’s muzzle, her hot breath rushing against the lower part of the male’s pelted throat. The rumbling sound of hers remained, though muted by closed lips and lessened force.
His moving hands brought fragments of previous frustration back to weary loins, for though she was full of ache and too sensitive to find his caress entirely comfortable, her body reacted to the well placed motion. Pleasure and pain were two sides of the same coin, and it was difficult to battle that, even if their moment was dribbling away. The heavy stench of shed blood lingered, and she realized it would take weeks to completely banish the scent. As for the furs beneath their bodies, they were certainly lost to her now. They could be washed with cold water just as she intended to do with her own coat, but she decided that it wasn’t worth it. There were many wolves lurking beyond their borders, and more than enough pelts for her to collect when time allowed it. She didn’t have to be in such a hurry all the time. But she hadn’t intended Helotes to see her this way, with temporary peace harbouring her body.
Or would, for his fingers sought to light her fire once more. But then he was free, and his encouraging touch disappeared along with the size that had filled her so well. Her legs closed, the inner areas of her thighs slick and soiled by shared essences. There were two choices that she would have liked to go with. She could choose to curl up and close her eyes to let the world fade for a few, long moments, or she could make an attempt to find bliss by his hands once again. She went with the third alternative, for that was how it had to be. His exit had been requested before, and the result had been lovely while it had lasted. But time was running out now, and it pained her brain to know that she would have to move to clean the mess up before her son and daughter returned to the mansion. Her desire for solitude burst a happy bubble within her chest, but she didn’t tremble at the sharp stab of emotional pain. It wasn’t her place to feel any longer.
”Now you may leave.” She pushed her slender frame up from the red mess the mess of auburn locks obscuring the lovely red of her gaze for mere moments before she pushed them away on own accord. She remembered well how he had reached out with his hand to brush it away, and would days after today as well. It annoyed her, for she didn’t want lasting memories from this apart of the cruel marks he had left on her skin. How prominent was the damage? She couldn’t say. A few cuts and bruises were not entirely uncommon, though she’d have to live with it. There wasn’t any other choice to settle with. The woman’s gaze couldn’t resist reaching for Helote’s larger frame once again, seething with her curiosity. She could have circled around him to take a look at the mess she’s made out of his back, but was positive she’d see it when he exited her room. He had gotten what he had wanted from her, and she expected that to be the end of it. Good luck with a new woman on the morrow.
Bloodied claws had already started to comb through the crazed tufts of her lengthy hair before she realized that she was smearing more drying maroon into her dark locks. A worn sigh was exhaled and she turned away from the man, fingers curling in her reddened paws. She started to pull at the red stained pelts, the sharpness of her usual self slowly returning to settle on her still stained face. A few fingers rose though, and it was his cooling blood she tasted as her tongue leaped out to clean slender fingertips. How divine his taste had been—was. The lines she had drawn on his body would linger, and she hoped that his pygmy lady-friend would see and understand their meaning. Although she’d liked for this scene to know more length, the feeling she remained with would be satisfactorily enough. Her intention had been to prove a point, and she would. But it almost made her laugh to focus on her pulse, quickened still by his gentle fingers. Bastard.
Your faith walks on broken glass
[/html]