Naaghai Lowlands [m] Bitis

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Somewhere above the gods laugh.

They all watch the scintillating expression in Khusobek’s iris as it changes. His strange breath, the places it touches, coaxes urgency. The chain around her neck is gone- the impression still commands transformation.

She is restless. When he kneels she wants him standing; when he rises she wants him lying. Effusive eyes watch his caressing ascent up her body as her claws draw promises into the silk of his crown. His press into her is not faint; neither is the moan as it seethes from her jaw.

Her lips reach for the hard slot of his mouth, demanding to taste him thoroughly. A leg is over his broad hip, she turns to push him up against the marble to perform hieroglyphics with her teeth. She wants to have her mark appear on his body. Her mouth devours across his hide, reversing the path into the hollow of his throat; the vein of his wrist; fevering his rib; surging down a thigh into the muscle of his calf and the crest of her fang bearing over his flank.

From the floor she looks up at him. She whispers thickening rules: supine on the ground. She wants to see if he abides them.

Somewhere above the good gods are laughing. She will not appease them; she is not interested in their saving.

She pushes herself into the arms of Sobek.