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Only the dead have seen the end of war.
Thick hide rippled in satisfaction against the soft whispers of touch her lips graced his massive shoulders with. As she responded to his playful nip, her tail flicking up to her barrel, he cannot help but feel the warm pull in his loins. This mare, this beautifully frustrating siren, had such hold over him. Over his mind and body. It was as marvelous as it was frustrating.
He nearly lost control over his conversational skills as her nose traced the black slash along his side, and at her playful nip on his hip a harsh, guttural snort escaped his nostrils. They flared, drawing in calming, cool breath— though only succeeded in taking in more of Rexanna’s scent. Which, unfortunately, had the opposite effect of calming the testosterone that was taking over his head.
His own, now heated, gaze met her gentle one. She was either more immune to his touches than he was to hers, or she was more in command of herself than he. Regardless, the reasonable, less stallion-y parts of his mind scrambled to return to their rational, serious line of conversation. She pledged them to each other, as he had. Good. She stated how briefly they new each other. Good. She stated how things felt so right. “Good. Yes. Great,” ‘She was fantastically great,’ he thought as he uttered his monosyllabic words while his mind tried to contain his lusty thoughts.
Then she pressed her body against his, a silken heat that was nearly his undoing. Perhaps he could have regained a semblance of control, but the warm gush of her breath at his stifle— so close to all that was stallion in him— was his downfall. Letting out a gusty sigh, he caved in the face of Rexanna’s temptation. His great head slid from her spine to the opposite side of her slender back, roughly pulling him in and against his now heated body. Wounds were forgotten in the face of her pheromones, “Rexanna, are you trying to seduce me instead of have this talk?” his now growling voice rumbles. “Because it is working,” he nips the flank of her opposite side more roughly than before, neck covering her back as he tries to hold her in place against him.
He nearly lost control over his conversational skills as her nose traced the black slash along his side, and at her playful nip on his hip a harsh, guttural snort escaped his nostrils. They flared, drawing in calming, cool breath— though only succeeded in taking in more of Rexanna’s scent. Which, unfortunately, had the opposite effect of calming the testosterone that was taking over his head.
His own, now heated, gaze met her gentle one. She was either more immune to his touches than he was to hers, or she was more in command of herself than he. Regardless, the reasonable, less stallion-y parts of his mind scrambled to return to their rational, serious line of conversation. She pledged them to each other, as he had. Good. She stated how briefly they new each other. Good. She stated how things felt so right. “Good. Yes. Great,” ‘She was fantastically great,’ he thought as he uttered his monosyllabic words while his mind tried to contain his lusty thoughts.
Then she pressed her body against his, a silken heat that was nearly his undoing. Perhaps he could have regained a semblance of control, but the warm gush of her breath at his stifle— so close to all that was stallion in him— was his downfall. Letting out a gusty sigh, he caved in the face of Rexanna’s temptation. His great head slid from her spine to the opposite side of her slender back, roughly pulling him in and against his now heated body. Wounds were forgotten in the face of her pheromones, “Rexanna, are you trying to seduce me instead of have this talk?” his now growling voice rumbles. “Because it is working,” he nips the flank of her opposite side more roughly than before, neck covering her back as he tries to hold her in place against him.
Tembovu
@Rexanna this is how I imagine them being, minus the nosy horse in the background. And with his head at her hip/flank, not shoulder :D
Please tag Tembovu.
