[m] water that i crave

Nerian did not seem to be perturbed by the fact that his fur was damp and sticky with salt water speaking that she, too, was now damp from being in contact with him. It was the only thing she spoke to him, leaning into his touches and kisses only to pull away from him, creating a vacuum of ocean breeze where the heat of her body had once been. It wasn't cool, not remotely, but he felt the absence of her body against his all the same. The length of her body trailed against his chest and for a wild moment, with a palpitation of anticipation in his heart, and a thrill of burning embers sparking to life in his loins he thought that she might have been insinuating intimacy. However, that seemed not to be the case when she took a wide step backwards. He lowered his gaze so that their eyes met when his Priestess Wife stood to face him.

The space was not long lived as she drew closer and he felt the warmth of her tongue glide barely against the fur at the base of his scarred ear, a thrill of adrenaline and desire surging through him. It was a tease of a touch and it drove the Scandinavian mad. A low growl of desire rumbled in the strong column of Ragnar's throat as he moved closer to her, until they were chest to chest, a slight hitch in his breath. He desired her whether she was in heat or not but he was impatient for her second cycle to hit, wanting her with a desperation that partially terrified him to allow him to plant his seed. She had spoken of hiding from him and he knew that if she did he would hunt her down. He wanted to see her beautiful body round with his children; his children and no one else's. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing with no doubt that the children belonged to him. Odinn had promised it to him and Ragnar knew the All-Father to be a deity of his word. He had yet to lie so far.

When they parted, her grey eyes holding his gaze of Caribbean Ice, the Viking's pupils dilated with his desire for her. Nerian, The Viking purled to his Priestess wife softly, the sound meant for her ears only. I hope that one day our Gods can become friends, He whispered into her ear, tail brushing against his haunches as he lowered his muzzle a slight bit to run his tongue over her ear. I want to name our youngest son Athelstan in honor of your God and religion. He had no particular reason why aside from that Tokio wanted it to happen merely that he knew that it was going to happen.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN