Shadewood i. silver thracian thaw (m)

Her eyes matched her coat: autumnal, aureate, but he caught the briefest gleam prior to her dissolution of the game they played together; a hint of mischief, maybe surrender, as she buckled before him and wove in close. Almost too close for comfort, he might have remarked. He knew to protect his throat in combat situations but this was not one of those, so when she snaked against his chest and drew her considerable strength so near his throat, Asa was a little bit taken aback. This was garish behaviour; almost a threat, almost a game.

She caught him by surprise when she rose up and grasped for him, mouthing at his ears; flame meet moth. Asa's racing pulse had become embrous, and he felt a creeping burn in his veins which soon nested in his belly, incited by the woman's presence - of this he had no doubt. Whether she was versed in seduction or not, consider him under her spell.

His mind emptied of his true quest for the time being. A welcome respite. She was weaving between his legs and pressing against him - and he drew her close. At first he would appear almost timid; he did not want to harm her, did not want to scare her off. Yet as he moved grapple with her he became more insistent, more impatient. Perhaps he was picking up on her own energy - or he was tired of the games.

It did not take much to draw Asa's desire to the forefront. He sought the physicality she offered, unable to stop himself, giving in to the fire that kindled in his belly which she had sparked and cultivated. A low rumble pulled from his chest - a triumphant sound, bestial, hungry. He pulled her close and in a mess of movements, aligned them together before she could stop him.