Ravensblood Forest oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place [m]

Are you ready my love? 

Olive’s little, pattering heart was sent into a flutter at Dakarai’s words. Was she ready? It was her last chance to retire from the business they played; the last change to turn away from the enticing, vestal precipice upon which she stood. But - this was not a decision that needed to be made then, for the siren decided long ago that she were to pledge herself to him in mind, body and soul. Olive wanted Dakarai to know her in this way, a way that no other man or woman knew her. Carnally, erotically. But she wanted to know something too. She was hungry to be stroked within and to deeply understand the sensations which drove them; to fully immerse herself in sensuality and all its newness.

“Take me,” Olive beseeched him, her breath quickening from the anticipation, “please…” 

There was something so gentle about him - how he offered to wait, how he verbalized his desires and how he asked before taking her. But there was an interesting duality to him that she didn’t fully understand - how his entire family perished in front of him, how he had joined those Blackfeather fuckers and how he eventually returned to her, torn and tattered from combat.  Sometimes Olive wondered if Dakarai were even real or if he was a vision of god himself. He was abstract. He was profound. He was hers.