Dragoncrest Cliffs i could put my teeth on your throat—i could howl against your hair (mtr.)

And she came the moment she heard him; arching deep against him as he gave himself to her. Her mouth parted breathlessly, issuing hoarse, fluttering gasps as her legs quivered so erratically. They stayed like that, held and engulfed against another — and she wouldn’t have protested if this would be eternity. Nonetheless, still knotted or no, she veiled herself back along the rumpled obsidian, drawing him down down down with her. A warm lull of lethargy coaxed her scarred cheek to the stones.

Even as she ached for him all over again, her ivory body brimming with oversensitivity, and she didn’t want to end up bringing any pain to either of them. So, as she promptly curled onto her other side to nestle into him — as much, as far as her scarred face could be enveloped at his throat — she promised herself the moment they were ready again, she’d beg him to take her once more.

But her heat had simmered into something rather pleased, humming with languorous content; yet she moved her pink nose docilely along his dark jawline, murmuring, ”This wanting will never end, dragostea.” A heartbeat of silence, before, breathing so vulnerably, ”...I missed you.”