12-25-2017, 11:18 PM
She seemed to explode at him, raw passion brought to life and suddenly any sense of loss or melancholy was violently shoved to the side. All there was was the here and now, pure animal sex.
As immediate and demanding as any fight to the death, he was swept away as back and forth they wrestled, vying for control, submitting and dominating from one second to the next.
It was a glorious eternity as they fought, bodies splayed against each other, felt her nails rake his neck and back sharply, felt her wince and hiss as he squeezed or bound her.
Life, in all its animal barbaric earth glory. Primal. And when she rolled on top of him, her skirts covering him, felt her inner thighs on his hip, his hand roaming to feel the heat coming off of her, he responded, ready to free himself, to claim her as his own, to stake her and to enter her and become one with this goddess, this true earth mother goddess from deep in the bowels of her throne room. He had brought a true queen to the surface of the earth as his consort. A real goddess, not some returned charlatan who relied on unearned magic to hold sway. Real power.
And then she was ripped from him and a switch went off. Passion became rage became death. In the time it took for her weight to leave him, he rolled and sprung to his feet, his telescoping blade flicked out to full length, ready to kill whoever deigned to defile their consummation.
And he held his ground and watched as Valeriya- he smiled at this dark queen- unleashed her fury on Illarion. Such rage.
And then his eyes noticed the smirk on Matvei's face. His brows darkened as his eyes turned to blue fire. Illarion whimpered, a pawn in a larger game. Weak, to be sure. But fiercly loyal.
Matvei. This was his work. It came together. Drive a wedge between Valeriya and Illarion. Her closest ally becomes her enemy.
There was a simple enough solution, of course. His blade out, he could take both heads in moments. But that would be a mistake. He could feel it.
Control had returned, the heavy iron cage dropping into place with a deep thud. And he felt a part of himself whimper at the loss of the moment. More than the moment. He had been on the verge, had felt his heart surging to life.
And now it was being denied to him, being whisked away. Instinctively, at his core, he said NO! He grabbed hold of it, refused to let it be gone even as it stretched taut. He held it. He would not lose it now.
But he could be patient. Fate had brought him to Valeriya, it was true. But not just her. The Khylsty had a purpose. He needed them whole and his. And so did she, he realized.
Minus the cancer in their midst. There needed to be a way.
He allowed Valeriya to draw him away as he thought. They headed into the building and to one of the rooms. This one had a cot and private wash and bathroom.
He shut the door and took Valeriya's hands firmly in his. He saw the anger and passion in her eyes. He understood. She had been denied, outside. He knew where this could go.
(You could let it. The idea whispered at him. He could. From deep down he still felt the hunger, the desire, the need.) It broke his heart to push it away. He felt a tearing inside him, but did it anyway.
He looked down at her, into her deep green eyes, holding her hands so they couldn't go around his neck. He wasn't certain he could resist her, not now, not so soon after.
He stared into her eyes trying to find the words. "Matvei is trying to steal them from you. I could kill him, but it would only make things worse." Killing a rebel only served to make them a martyr. He needed to be discredited. And replaced. "Your brother is young and foolish. But he is yours to the core. We cannot let him be lost to you."
He'd seen how much she leaned on Illarion. How often they spoke. They were closer than any two of the Khylsty. She could speak and act in her rage outside, but it would kill her to lose her brother and companion.
As it was killing Illarion, he understood now. He was losing his sister, he thought. It all made sense. A smile started to form. "But....if Illarion were Hand...and if he knew he wasn't losing you, your hold over the people would stand." And she would keep her brother.
He let go of her hand, more sure she wouldn't grab him. He touched her face. His voice was firm but soft. A whisper. "I said you were mine. Now and forever. And I am yours, now and forever. Nothing and no one will change that." His eyes were blue flames, burning these words into her. "We were chosen for each other before we were born. Nothing will deny us that future. Be patient my queen earth mother."
His ardor was still there, pacing in the background. On impulse he pulled her to him, felt her body against his. He reached around and firmly grabbed her under her buttocks to raise her up until their eyes met, her legs around him, and then he kissed her long and deep and hard. A kiss of promise, not ignition, though she could hardly ignore the feel of his iron firmness against her. Indeed, he wanted her to feel it, to know how much craved her.
She was his and he was hers. His kiss did get a bit frenzied- a growl escaped his throat- and he tasted blood as he realized he'd bit her lip a little too hard. He dropped her to the ground laughing even as he gently put a finger to her lips to wipe it away. After a moment he pressed a finger to the scratches on his neck and then smiled.
"We have marked each other." He relunctantly- it was reluctance he felt- stepped back, though he did take her hand. "I will go see Illarion. In the meantime..." he took her to the wash room and showed her the shower, how the water came on, how the temperature was controlled. He showed the soaps and shampoo and where some fresh clothing was.
"I will return soon. I promise." He left before she began undressing. He was not a teenager. Nudity was not the end all of life. But he was still a man. Though 61 he trained everyday, as well as took supplements to maintain his normal hormonal function. Testosterone therapy was routine, as was the maintenance level of HGH he took. His diet was high in protein so that he didn't lose muscle mass. He recovery time from injury or extertion was that of a man half his age. He might not look 35 but his skin was still taut and firm. And more importantly, his desires were still in tact.
Watching Valeriya undress would push him back over the edge. Instead, he grabbed a first aid kit and went to find Illarion.
Edited by Regus, Dec 26 2017, 01:47 AM.
As immediate and demanding as any fight to the death, he was swept away as back and forth they wrestled, vying for control, submitting and dominating from one second to the next.
It was a glorious eternity as they fought, bodies splayed against each other, felt her nails rake his neck and back sharply, felt her wince and hiss as he squeezed or bound her.
Life, in all its animal barbaric earth glory. Primal. And when she rolled on top of him, her skirts covering him, felt her inner thighs on his hip, his hand roaming to feel the heat coming off of her, he responded, ready to free himself, to claim her as his own, to stake her and to enter her and become one with this goddess, this true earth mother goddess from deep in the bowels of her throne room. He had brought a true queen to the surface of the earth as his consort. A real goddess, not some returned charlatan who relied on unearned magic to hold sway. Real power.
And then she was ripped from him and a switch went off. Passion became rage became death. In the time it took for her weight to leave him, he rolled and sprung to his feet, his telescoping blade flicked out to full length, ready to kill whoever deigned to defile their consummation.
And he held his ground and watched as Valeriya- he smiled at this dark queen- unleashed her fury on Illarion. Such rage.
And then his eyes noticed the smirk on Matvei's face. His brows darkened as his eyes turned to blue fire. Illarion whimpered, a pawn in a larger game. Weak, to be sure. But fiercly loyal.
Matvei. This was his work. It came together. Drive a wedge between Valeriya and Illarion. Her closest ally becomes her enemy.
There was a simple enough solution, of course. His blade out, he could take both heads in moments. But that would be a mistake. He could feel it.
Control had returned, the heavy iron cage dropping into place with a deep thud. And he felt a part of himself whimper at the loss of the moment. More than the moment. He had been on the verge, had felt his heart surging to life.
And now it was being denied to him, being whisked away. Instinctively, at his core, he said NO! He grabbed hold of it, refused to let it be gone even as it stretched taut. He held it. He would not lose it now.
But he could be patient. Fate had brought him to Valeriya, it was true. But not just her. The Khylsty had a purpose. He needed them whole and his. And so did she, he realized.
Minus the cancer in their midst. There needed to be a way.
He allowed Valeriya to draw him away as he thought. They headed into the building and to one of the rooms. This one had a cot and private wash and bathroom.
He shut the door and took Valeriya's hands firmly in his. He saw the anger and passion in her eyes. He understood. She had been denied, outside. He knew where this could go.
(You could let it. The idea whispered at him. He could. From deep down he still felt the hunger, the desire, the need.) It broke his heart to push it away. He felt a tearing inside him, but did it anyway.
He looked down at her, into her deep green eyes, holding her hands so they couldn't go around his neck. He wasn't certain he could resist her, not now, not so soon after.
He stared into her eyes trying to find the words. "Matvei is trying to steal them from you. I could kill him, but it would only make things worse." Killing a rebel only served to make them a martyr. He needed to be discredited. And replaced. "Your brother is young and foolish. But he is yours to the core. We cannot let him be lost to you."
He'd seen how much she leaned on Illarion. How often they spoke. They were closer than any two of the Khylsty. She could speak and act in her rage outside, but it would kill her to lose her brother and companion.
As it was killing Illarion, he understood now. He was losing his sister, he thought. It all made sense. A smile started to form. "But....if Illarion were Hand...and if he knew he wasn't losing you, your hold over the people would stand." And she would keep her brother.
He let go of her hand, more sure she wouldn't grab him. He touched her face. His voice was firm but soft. A whisper. "I said you were mine. Now and forever. And I am yours, now and forever. Nothing and no one will change that." His eyes were blue flames, burning these words into her. "We were chosen for each other before we were born. Nothing will deny us that future. Be patient my queen earth mother."
His ardor was still there, pacing in the background. On impulse he pulled her to him, felt her body against his. He reached around and firmly grabbed her under her buttocks to raise her up until their eyes met, her legs around him, and then he kissed her long and deep and hard. A kiss of promise, not ignition, though she could hardly ignore the feel of his iron firmness against her. Indeed, he wanted her to feel it, to know how much craved her.
She was his and he was hers. His kiss did get a bit frenzied- a growl escaped his throat- and he tasted blood as he realized he'd bit her lip a little too hard. He dropped her to the ground laughing even as he gently put a finger to her lips to wipe it away. After a moment he pressed a finger to the scratches on his neck and then smiled.
"We have marked each other." He relunctantly- it was reluctance he felt- stepped back, though he did take her hand. "I will go see Illarion. In the meantime..." he took her to the wash room and showed her the shower, how the water came on, how the temperature was controlled. He showed the soaps and shampoo and where some fresh clothing was.
"I will return soon. I promise." He left before she began undressing. He was not a teenager. Nudity was not the end all of life. But he was still a man. Though 61 he trained everyday, as well as took supplements to maintain his normal hormonal function. Testosterone therapy was routine, as was the maintenance level of HGH he took. His diet was high in protein so that he didn't lose muscle mass. He recovery time from injury or extertion was that of a man half his age. He might not look 35 but his skin was still taut and firm. And more importantly, his desires were still in tact.
Watching Valeriya undress would push him back over the edge. Instead, he grabbed a first aid kit and went to find Illarion.
Edited by Regus, Dec 26 2017, 01:47 AM.