Sunset Valley What the future says,

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—in all universes, she is a force he cannot resist. and that truth stands even now, as he feels her breathe down his back. she comes closer—close enough that they do not touch even yet but he feels the very magnitude of her being there.
the blackbird exhales a shuddering breath. turning, once more laying crimson stare upon her. resting upon those blue eyes that tempt his fate. that test his hand, that dare it to raise against her; not in blow but caress. each second is a sickening churn. a numbing stab.
and that is supposed to make it right? he asks. make it just?
and yet though his voice makes to deny what he feels, his body cannot. he comes to her by force, crashing face upon hers. forehead resting in touch, and tasting the heavy draw of her breath upon his own nose and mouth and lips. you corrupt me, morwenna. words coming in a sultry exhale, his chest heaving, his flanks rising as if frantic.
he cannot pull himself away from her. his head moves from her face and brushes along her neck, inhaling in greedy draws of her scent he could not get enough of. he was tired of waiting for her. he had grown so sick; of her scent being entangled with the man he despised. he would cover it up with his own. commanding her body now with his strong touches, dressing her to the ground where he joins her.
my queen. he breathes against the groove of her neck that his mouth finds.