[m] water that i crave

Should mark this one Rated [.M.] for Mature,

Nerian looked over her shoulder at him, her lips parted just slightly as if she were going to speak but no words came out. She wanted to ask but her inexperience got the better of her, nothing in her life had even prepared her for being a wife nothing prepared her for the duties she had to take on. In fact everything in her life had prepared her for just the opposite.

Nerian unconciously and yet instinctively shifted her weight onto the hind leg closest to Ragnar and now even she understood what it is that her body wanted. She wanted no more more questions no more talk, all she wanted was him when Ragnar was so close there was nothing on this earth she could fear.



" Hvaða orð myndir þú hafa mig að nota? " Nerian's voice was soft but the curve of lips told him she might have taken that the wrong way, indeed she felt slightly scolded like a pup with the words he used and yet treated like the female she was as his muzzle brushed her flank.

Nerian exhaled and peeked at Ragnar from below her heavy lidded sultry expression, With him she couldn't hide her emotions the neutral mask she wore around everyone else just did not exist most especially when she was overcome with emotions she had never experienced to that depth before.

Her voice getting husky, laden with something just slightly more then desire" Vinsamlegast... " Perhaps not the best use or asking but she was running out of intelligent words to use. In this moment the priestess version of Nerian abandoned her and walked away with a 'to hell with you' and the Wife that Nerian was becoming this new version that ever so slowly was blossoming opened herself to him in every sense of being. Her tail moved, arching just slightly to the right her hips moved closer to his chest, her breathing hitched as she reached behind her to caress his muzzle with her tongue, tasting him and the tang of salt that clung to him.