Wheeling Gull Isle And basically I've gotta know

She hadn't planned for this when watching from the shadows and stumbling upon him, a desolate sentinel of the beach. 

Still, when he returns to her - there's no restraint to the instinctive kisses her lips plant along him, the primitive nips she teases along his length. It's fumbling and she can't quite stop trembling; still, anticipation quickens her blood, excitement hitches her breath in her lungs, heat burns in the chasms of her being. 

Lucavon is still the only to touch her as of yet - a thought that fills her with shame and disgust each time it crosses her mind. Desperation tinges her caresses, urging him to unity as if silently begging him to erase that taint, banish the violent memories lingering on the fringes of her mind. 

Whatever imbedded fear that hovered fled as they met, growing frenzied as need overflowed, the lost time imploding between them. 

After, she curled into him - astrological pelt quivering with the released tension, chest heaving with spent breath. Her neck twisted, nibbling along the curve of Daegon's shoulder with affection - soothing as she groomed along the same path.