12-25-2008, 12:38 AM
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1000+
Cwmfen lost herself in his embrace. It was something new, to have a male’s arms wrapped about her. She knew of the strength and danger that came with such proximity, but such a quality made it more exhilarating—more worthwhile. As he held her, there was nothing for her save for him. For at least that moment, he was her world, and she drowned in the dark, earthen fur, in the strength of his arms about her. The black, woad-banded fingers grasped his mane, as if she were afraid that he might disappear. But he did not. He was a pillar of strength. There was a certain security that such power provided, and she felt that, at least this night, she was safe from all the troubles of the world. And those troubles seemed so far and insignificant....
The black wolf pulled in closer as he kissed her back. As his arm wrapped about her, his other hand moved down the side of her body to grasp her buttocks. She shuddered with delight and gasped in surprise, for all the things that Haku was doing to her, would do to her, was a new experience. And she only had time to take this one breath as he teased her lips before he pushed into her mouth. As he lifted her, she adjusted her grip on him, though it was almost an unnecessary movement, for he had her firmly against his hot body that chased away Death’s cold grip, in a place where she could not escape—had she wanted to. But she found that she did not want to, that she wanted him to overtake her. And she savored that kiss, closing her eyes, allowing him to explore her.
Haku brought them both to the earth. The soft snow rose into the air, and as her back made contact, a soft stream of air escaped her like a sigh. He broke the kiss, and her muzzle made as if to follow him, eagerly wanting more. Suddenly, she found that he had pinned her hands over her head. Instinct made her struggle, made her attempt to escape that utterly vulnerable position. As she moved, her body only pushed up against the male’s repeatedly, inadvertently making herself more open to his wants. Her legs dug half-heartedly in the snow, but she found that his grip was too much to overcome from that position. That strength...it made her want him more. As Haku began to kiss her arm, she ceased her struggling and lay still, like a trapped creature accepting Fate’s Death. Her chest rose and fell visibly from her efforts, but of her growing desire as well. She turned her head away from his, the white orbs staring off into the snowfall. She was intrigued, and her breath fluttered from her lips as he licked her neck. He was so gentle. There was no pain. She could feel the teeth brushing her collarbone, and the jaws that surely hungered for more withheld themselves. As he moved, the woad-marked female could feel his growing tension, his growing eagerness, and his energy, his scent, softly smothered her. The chocolate male’s maw came near her own, and she moved, wanting to taste him once more, but he did not allow her to, deftly allowing her eagerness to grow into uncontrollable desire.
Haku’s maw was pressed against her chest, and she exhaled deeply—a shuddering sigh—fighting to keep still, as if she were required to allow him to assess her first. A sharp gasp cut through the cold air as he teased her breasts. Her body responded to his touch, the nipple rising, as if asking for more. When he grasped her, she barely suppressed a moan of pleasure, her back arcing slightly. She found then that he had released her hand and it involuntarily went to his mane. The black, slender fingers ran through his fur, and with such movement, she found that her own body had become tense, as if unwilling to let him in. His breathing changed, became more frantic, and his hands released hers to run along her body. The black hands grasped his upper arms and felt the sinew beneath her bunch and relax as he moved. There was hardly any space between them, and as he moved against her, she grew wet with desire. As her hands moved across his body, it seemed as if she were afraid of the space that had been between them. His desire was smothering her will to resist, and, though she did not wish to fight him, her resolve was not yet broken.
A sound that was regulated between a growl and a whine was emitted as his fingers found that wet desire. Her body recoiled, but it recoiled to further draw him in. Cwmfen’s tongue tasted the branded pentacle. Her sharp teeth scraped over the neck where his pulse beat wildly, and her body hurt with desire. The black female moaned softly, and her curious hands softly clawed his stomach, but the virgin mind bid her timidly avoid his shaft. Her eager palms excitedly pressed against his abs, circling about to his lower back. His body was so well sculpted—as she moved her hands along him, she felt as the gods must have when they had created him. Her fingers found each scar, tenderly stroking the raised wounds. His body was as rough as his personality, and she was drawn by its charisma. Perhaps some would have seen Haku as crude, but she found him simply perfect. A fallen war god.
"Haku—" she began, but he had already interrupted her with a kiss. Oh well. She kissed him back, eager—curious. As he played with her, she involuntarily began to move up to him. And this kiss dissolved her resolve. Her hands left his body and found his face, the fingers stroked him tenderly. One fell to his neck while the other moved to claw a soft ear. Slowly, she pulled away from the kiss, and let her body rest upon the cold earth. The white orbs stared into his, and her tense body relaxed. She submitted utterly to him, physically and mentally. She wanted him to claim her, and she wanted to belong to him. Whatever happened after, she wanted to be utterly his for at least this night.
"Take me," she whispered.
1000+
Cwmfen lost herself in his embrace. It was something new, to have a male’s arms wrapped about her. She knew of the strength and danger that came with such proximity, but such a quality made it more exhilarating—more worthwhile. As he held her, there was nothing for her save for him. For at least that moment, he was her world, and she drowned in the dark, earthen fur, in the strength of his arms about her. The black, woad-banded fingers grasped his mane, as if she were afraid that he might disappear. But he did not. He was a pillar of strength. There was a certain security that such power provided, and she felt that, at least this night, she was safe from all the troubles of the world. And those troubles seemed so far and insignificant....
The black wolf pulled in closer as he kissed her back. As his arm wrapped about her, his other hand moved down the side of her body to grasp her buttocks. She shuddered with delight and gasped in surprise, for all the things that Haku was doing to her, would do to her, was a new experience. And she only had time to take this one breath as he teased her lips before he pushed into her mouth. As he lifted her, she adjusted her grip on him, though it was almost an unnecessary movement, for he had her firmly against his hot body that chased away Death’s cold grip, in a place where she could not escape—had she wanted to. But she found that she did not want to, that she wanted him to overtake her. And she savored that kiss, closing her eyes, allowing him to explore her.
Haku brought them both to the earth. The soft snow rose into the air, and as her back made contact, a soft stream of air escaped her like a sigh. He broke the kiss, and her muzzle made as if to follow him, eagerly wanting more. Suddenly, she found that he had pinned her hands over her head. Instinct made her struggle, made her attempt to escape that utterly vulnerable position. As she moved, her body only pushed up against the male’s repeatedly, inadvertently making herself more open to his wants. Her legs dug half-heartedly in the snow, but she found that his grip was too much to overcome from that position. That strength...it made her want him more. As Haku began to kiss her arm, she ceased her struggling and lay still, like a trapped creature accepting Fate’s Death. Her chest rose and fell visibly from her efforts, but of her growing desire as well. She turned her head away from his, the white orbs staring off into the snowfall. She was intrigued, and her breath fluttered from her lips as he licked her neck. He was so gentle. There was no pain. She could feel the teeth brushing her collarbone, and the jaws that surely hungered for more withheld themselves. As he moved, the woad-marked female could feel his growing tension, his growing eagerness, and his energy, his scent, softly smothered her. The chocolate male’s maw came near her own, and she moved, wanting to taste him once more, but he did not allow her to, deftly allowing her eagerness to grow into uncontrollable desire.
Haku’s maw was pressed against her chest, and she exhaled deeply—a shuddering sigh—fighting to keep still, as if she were required to allow him to assess her first. A sharp gasp cut through the cold air as he teased her breasts. Her body responded to his touch, the nipple rising, as if asking for more. When he grasped her, she barely suppressed a moan of pleasure, her back arcing slightly. She found then that he had released her hand and it involuntarily went to his mane. The black, slender fingers ran through his fur, and with such movement, she found that her own body had become tense, as if unwilling to let him in. His breathing changed, became more frantic, and his hands released hers to run along her body. The black hands grasped his upper arms and felt the sinew beneath her bunch and relax as he moved. There was hardly any space between them, and as he moved against her, she grew wet with desire. As her hands moved across his body, it seemed as if she were afraid of the space that had been between them. His desire was smothering her will to resist, and, though she did not wish to fight him, her resolve was not yet broken.
A sound that was regulated between a growl and a whine was emitted as his fingers found that wet desire. Her body recoiled, but it recoiled to further draw him in. Cwmfen’s tongue tasted the branded pentacle. Her sharp teeth scraped over the neck where his pulse beat wildly, and her body hurt with desire. The black female moaned softly, and her curious hands softly clawed his stomach, but the virgin mind bid her timidly avoid his shaft. Her eager palms excitedly pressed against his abs, circling about to his lower back. His body was so well sculpted—as she moved her hands along him, she felt as the gods must have when they had created him. Her fingers found each scar, tenderly stroking the raised wounds. His body was as rough as his personality, and she was drawn by its charisma. Perhaps some would have seen Haku as crude, but she found him simply perfect. A fallen war god.
"Haku—" she began, but he had already interrupted her with a kiss. Oh well. She kissed him back, eager—curious. As he played with her, she involuntarily began to move up to him. And this kiss dissolved her resolve. Her hands left his body and found his face, the fingers stroked him tenderly. One fell to his neck while the other moved to claw a soft ear. Slowly, she pulled away from the kiss, and let her body rest upon the cold earth. The white orbs stared into his, and her tense body relaxed. She submitted utterly to him, physically and mentally. She wanted him to claim her, and she wanted to belong to him. Whatever happened after, she wanted to be utterly his for at least this night.
"Take me," she whispered.