Black Morass glowbell [m]

<3 >D

as they moved, kynareth made no secret of his desire, and at the threshold to his home, he held her again in the clip of his jaws that might have frightened the raven had they not just provided her with a great deal of pleasure scant minutes before. she pulled at his ruff with her own teeth, nipped into the plush fur of his chest, licked the warbound hardness of his shoulder.
the girl did not promise to meet again, only smirked with tongue-wet lips into his face and then faded into the trees, carrying with her the scent of his saints and her own sin. if she returned, it would be for what kynareth had provided; something sharp-edged and satiating against the feminine softness of brecheliant and its intention toward sanctuary.