Cedar Sweep romance

Marred, marked, touched.

He cared not if his shoulder bled into the open air, if it boiled an infection or took the whole damn limb from it. For it had come from her and he would wear it with pride.

His voice hummed and vibrated in the back of his throat. He knew no words could be spoken in this moment, that they would not find a home here.

It was why he devoured the land on long limbs.

Why he reached with a stronger touch to him now, so that he might grab even only tufts of her. To taste the blood she wore as well as any other shade of red she owned.

Let them devour one another.