The Sunspire a poetic retelling of an unfortunate seduction

There they were again, indulging in each other's bodily pleasures. His tongue ran past the source of her heat, tasting her, enjoying her. She felt such sweet relief glow pulse from down there and a small moan, a soft aria of her exstacy escaped her lips once more. She had never known men to do this [Dakarai had been her first, of course] but the act felt so naughty and she loved that her dark lover could make her feel such a way. She felt it was as a king would pleasure his queen, as if he wished to share only the best, most delectable parts of life with her — his tongue included. Oh, how she loved that tongue.

When he concluded his most exquisite of ministrations, Olive stood until the gentle vibrating of her body subsided and allowed her to move once more. She listened to him speak as if it were the voice of god himself; Olive loved that their passion came from a place of deep love and devotion, envinced by her husband's drunken, lovely, wonderful ramblings.  When she once again was able of conscious movement, Olive curved her petite body to face him. The pale woman's tongue swiped softly against his chin, licking the wetness from his maw. "I need you," the lamb said, and it was the truth. She needed him in the most basic, primal sense of the word. She needed him to be whole. She needed him to breathe, to fight to see another day. But most of all she needed him, his flesh, right there amongst the soft dawning light; glinting and glittering off of their alabaster, crystalline milieu. 

Olive wanted him to know how good he made her feel. And if he could work his erotic fingers around her soul in such a way, could she not do the same to him? She would sure as hell try, for he deserved all the best things in life. As to not shock him, Olive gently raked her teeth through the plush, dark fur against his neck, then shoulders, then ribcage. Every so often she would stop and nip at him, hoping to stir excitement and thrill within him from the tiniest semblance of pain. The vixen continued to train across his torso, to the deep curve where his belly connected with his loins. There, Olive drew her tongue across his hardness, paused, and waiting for a reaction. When she saw it was positive, she returned to her task and shared with him the sane unearthly pleasure, caressing the most sensitive flesh of his body with the warmth of her mouth.

After a few moments, Olive raised her head and looked at him, grinning at her fortitude and naughtiness. As she looked at him, the woman saw her present and future in his eyes; she also felt as if she saw her past within those cervulean depths too, though she weren't sure how that'd be possible. But so many things that weren't possible, were now possible with Dakarai. "Now, my love," she sung softly, drawing her soft voice close to his ear, as if she were shielding her words from the rest of the world... even her beloved stars above. This was just for them. "Let me conceive.