Lion Head Mesa [m][sc] Nun

He kissed his wife as commanded, deeper, hungrier, compelling her lips to part with his tongue. “I want to inhabit every part of you,” he stroked beneath her eyes and kissed her bottom lip. A hand slid between her limbs and brought his mouth down to her hip.

“I desire you to close your eyes. I desire you to listen. I desire you to do as I bid—” Then he leaned back into the redstone throne and pulled Toula on top of him, his teeth brushing her chin. His goddess loomed above as his altar for prayer. “I want to close my eyes. I want to listen. I want to do as you bid.”

His eyes melted away to slits, all the crimes of his touch a result of the arson between them. The way he coveted his wife was different from the way he used concubines. There was no crowd of worshippers to carry their bed. He did not want any other eyes upon her. He did not want to see her with anyone else. He wanted her only for himself. Sweet, and savaged inside his temple. He stared up at her.

“Toula,” the name fits in his mouth perfectly. He quieted then, the headiness in his eyes replaced by something intangible. “I desire most for our love to blood the eternal skies.” He lifted a paw to caress her cheek.

He wanted to see her swell with their sons. He wanted to watch her chase their godlings down the palace hallways, and settle them into bed at nights. He wanted to watch her nurture his children– the evidence of their love in flesh and blood.

“I want a family with you.”