Northstar Vale a grin as sharp as a knife (mtr.)

catch me laughing @ this lame ass 4am post.

he feels her quiver beneath him; he thinks. it is hard to tell with the taunt restraint of every and all of his muscles. his heart beat is loud in his ears like the demanding crescendo of a war drum. 
thump, thump, thump...!
rapid fire, competing against the hazy buzzing in his ears only to be broken by the rasping rumble that pushes up thru his throat, against the supple curve of her own still; lips pressing, teeth preening thru the shorn ivory fur as he rocks against her one last time. hips press flush as his zenith is reached and seed is spilled within her.

it would not take root, he knows. not now. not until the season shifts and she becomes ( somehow; he can scarcely fathom ) even more irresistable to him. melkor slips from her back carefully, not wishing to jostle their earthly tether and not wanting to crush her with his weight as the vestiges of bliss linger and exhaustion begin to seep in thru the cracks.