Lion Head Mesa [m][sc] Nun

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Away from the festival, up the steps and down the hall, he drove his love towards the throne, where he pushed her back into it. He prowled, circling the dais, ears focused forward as the vibrations in his throat conveyed his intentions. He enjoyed watching @Toula there, untouched. Waiting. The waters were being tested now, the obsidian man showing her a different love than they’d made before– one of candid possession.

He rose the front half of himself onto the throne, for a moment reveling the feel of his wife's thighs against his. Her beauty lured him. He gazed down into her perfect face.

“Feel the torment you put me in,” his mouth hovered over her lips. One arm steadied them both while another slid down to her hip, pushing her leg up over his.

“You are bred into my bones– part of my flesh.” As if to prove it his teeth bore past the fur of her neckline with a zeal born of starvation, a strength thus far withheld from his goddess. With a heavy growl he leaned down to nuzzle her chest, breathing faster into her fur.

“Your blood runs fast when mine does,” he drew himself tighter against her, "your body burns when mine does."

OOPS

 

would her rather be proud or disappointed to see himself in her as she stood upon the throne then, gaze smoldering as she held Rashepses in thrall?   it had not been priest and priestess she saw, but Herself and Him—
Rashepses had awoken something in Her. and now He lit a fire in Her from within—with His holy words, with His actions, 
and then His lips were against Hers, and He was speaking scripture, and She released an unholy noise against His lips—or perhaps it was holy, She did not know anything then except for Her want, 
and His grip was all that She wanted, and yet not enough as Her foreleg hooked around Him to bring Him closer, to show Him what existed within Her—only He would ever know this, 
and She wanted to repeat each of His words, but Her eyes were filled with Her need, Her hunger, as She said to Him: I am burning!!!! and, maneuvering Herself so that He might see all of Her, She said to Him, I burn for You,

<3333

Her delicate body draped across the throne where once sat her sister, and father, and now Semer-wati had mounted her beneath him until her spine pressed into the seat of power and he was free to look upon all that was Pharaoh.

His teeth found purchase of the plush skin of her collar again. A low rumble shook them both, unable to think beyond the sensation of her. His kiss was harder this time, laced with the thirst he feet pulsing inside them both. His paw brushed along the length of her thigh, and then they were fitted together, pushing close– closer than before.

It was more than staking possession. There was something much different about his wife this day, the whole of her like a sun sought to find every unreached limit and ensnare him with her energy. He was less gentle than before, but no less loving. He felt himself powerful, a demiurge that moved instinctively towards consciousness, with a need to create something corporal between them. Not because they should, or because it was expected, but because he wanted to define himself by her. He spiraled Toula until they were a single form, and gave to her the sweet ambrosia, nectar of the gods. This was divine providence. This was how art imitated the Gods.

“You and I will change the world,” a promise groaned deep against the side of her cheek.

the stone throne behind her did not bite into her flesh as perhaps it ought to of in this moment. it was yet another blissful sensation that stole breath from her lungs, drew it against the dark-limned lips of her husband. if there was anything different about him this hour, Toula could not recognize it—perhaps because in this moment, she was unwittingly his mirror. she wanted to possess—she wanted to be possessed,
She! He! each gesture of His, each touch, meeting its mark with the all-consuming power of a wildfire. scorching, indiscriminate—and She breathed life into it, so that it roared, so that it could never be put out. as His hips were flush against Hers, She arched helplessly against Him—not even realizing it, not even wholly in control. all that She was aware of then was Him, and Her need of Him. and then, yes, She was the sun—Ra was within Her!—and She had determined that She must bathe Him in Her light, this warmth, arms wrung around His shoulders, bringing Him closer still until Their chests touched and there was only one thing left to do—
She was spinning, and laughing, and as She turned to look back at Him there was a need greater than anything She could ever articulate in Her eyes, but Her body conveyed it with a fluency He had taught Her. still He was not close enough, but as He spoke She felt the rightness of His words. this all... it was only the beginning. and in answer, She said knowingly as She pressed against Him, We will rebuild it, yes, They would, Together, a soft kiss to his chin as the sentiment was not lost on her. Toula had lost so much, but perhaps it was all for this—all for what They two would make. 
but possessed by this fire, and by Him, Toula breathed a high note of demand, pressing against Him again, overtaken, embracing Their Divinity.

After, he would ask for her again, rekindling their just fed flames with exploring provocations. His breath came faster until he was panting and stealing his wife’s own singed moans from her lips. Long ago he’d mastered this want, only now to carve a new name for it.

When they were undone once more Rashepses brought his wife into his arms and kissed her mouth deeply. “Gods, you’re beautiful. Nofer harneb (most beautiful of all). Merere tu (I love you), my Toula.”

He began grooming then, christening every landmark with a gentle brush of tongue, beginning with the silken skin of her wrists. She looked so bright in his arms, an ivory lotus against the crimson of her throne.

“Tell me of your desires,” he whispered between strokes of tongue, “the ones you are too shy to voice aloud.”

“Have no shame with me," his sunlit eyes are heady as he nuzzles the lobe of her ear.