revolutias: (i'll be the blood)
ᴍᴀʀǫᴜɪs ᴅᴇ ʟᴀғᴀʏᴇᴛᴛᴇ ([personal profile] revolutias) wrote in [community profile] nonsuch 2016-02-16 08:52 am (UTC)

[ He breaks briefly, hovers over her skin as she tugs at her scarf, the fabric falling away to be discarded. It is a beautiful neck, he muses descending upon the freed flesh, as graceful as a swans and soft as silk. And his to claim, to worship. A breathy chuckle into her flesh, he follows her pulse, sucking and biting as he goes along. The noise she makes - by God it is as music to his ears and he wants, so suddenly, to hear more of it.

With that goal in mind his hands move on their own accord, one pressed to keep her close as the other undoes her buckles. Hasty and impatient in their movements, a desperate greed to reach what lies underneath all those clothes.

They do not need to consider, to think, for when the sun rises they will no long remember each other's face. When the sun rises this will be nothing more than a passing thought, a dream. Some fancy of another time when too much drink had gone to their heads. For now, however, the curve of her body and the sound of quickening breath is all that exists in this world. ]

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