Duskfire Glacier I am the cut that ends foes—

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faust feels the heat of it—the press of her body against his, the pulse of raw energy that ignites between them, setting the rhythm of their bodies to a deeper, primal beat. he moves with it, not out of hunger, but a quiet understanding, his hands finding purchase on her, feeling the quiver of vulnerability in the way she gives herself to him.
he pulls back for a moment, his breath ragged, only to look at her, catching that rare softness in her eyes. the intensity of the moment doesn't fade, but in that lingering silence, there's a shift. he sees it, something beneath the fierce exterior of the huntress, something delicate and powerful, all at once.
you trust me, he murmurs, voice low, nearly drowned by the intensity of the air between them. his hand brushes her cheek lightly, a tenderness that stands in contrast to the fierce nature of their bond.
it is enough for him. for the squalor of his hips to dissipate and the two are plunged beside one another. atop the cougar hide he rests them, intertwined. he breathes heavily, encouraging her with soft nips to remain unmoved. while he ravished in her bloodborne nature, this softness she portrayed fueled the testosterone within him, pumping blood to the fixtures that which he couldn't fully comprehend.
he praised her for it. with laps of his tongue to her cheek. he'd like to see more of it between the two of them.