Lost Creek Hollow [m] still water

in the wake of his gentle touches, a stark contrast to the brutish nature he so often conveyed, she found herself utterly, irrecoverably enamored. sensibility ascertained, the star-kissed woman was not immune to the vulnerability of sensations. she sought it, sought a good fuck from the husband she chose.

to be idle and prudent was not in her nature, contrary to her innocent, oh-so submissive demeanor. morwenna was a wraith.

with the coiled press of his body against her own, the heat from them had been a catastrophic supernova. a pliant force that the stars that kissed her would not be able to interfere with, so long as she held the reigns. her husband, sun eater. ravager of the sun, where she the eater of stars.

she let her eyes flutter to a close as her back arched against him, chest plying downward to the caribou hide. for the best art came in the form of pleasure. to his little knowledge, she had mastered it. rhaegon had been no saint before the seven, and neither had she.

---

he pulled her to the caribou hides. seemingly done for right now. but she was not. sitting upright, placing a paw by his head, she peppered kisses around his neck, littering evidence of her approval, her own desires eaten by the god.