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10-06-2013, 01:51 AM
E R I S
Pondering his replies from when they stood in the deathly waters, The Empress still doesn't quite believe him. It is not long until he leaves the marsh to follow her onto dry land. Curious eyes watch him, still silent yet excited. The land around them is dangerous and full of death, but what about their conversation? The field they played on was filled with mines, it would only take a single wrong step, a sudden change of direction and death would claim them. "Of course." Her reply is as smooth as silk, soft and calm. "I only desire their strength for the glorious war to win our land." A smirk crosses her lips, she stares at him wondering if he will have a response to that. "We will take the land with their strength, then we will only request their assistance should our land be threatened by others." Blue orbs watch him with an evil tone, amused by the way he's trying to assist her in leading her troops. Oh yes, he was being honest and would a find addition to her little family. "Of course we will assist them when ever they need us, that is how an alliance works after all." Now he follows her as he moves out of the marsh, his head poised elegantly aloft his thin neck. Her eyes watch his expressions, wondering how her would take her reply. Surprised that he had kept himself under control for so long, The Empress simply stand still apart from an on swish of her tail or gentle tipping of her crowned head. How many lies had he muttered to her? How many truths? How much longer would they be able to keep apart from each other? "You also want to be general?" Giggling Eris now found this all highly amusing. "All of my warriors want to be my general, I wonder how crushed they will be when I make you my right hand." Eris knew she would be a fool to refuse him, instead she does her best to catch his gaze. Once again he closes the distance between them, it is almost as if it pains him to be apart from her. "Then understand this Skywalker, you are mine." Her breaths are short warm pants, her voice is steady however. "You will lead my people with me, but if we fall you will remain mine until I release you from my...service." His filthy black body brushes against hers, the smell of evil lures her to want him even more. Lowering his head he carefully traces the lines of her again, shivering in pleasure she does not make him stop. She needs this, he wants this. Now he follows the curve of her cheek, the last traces, of her giggles remain. Down the ridge of her nose he travels, trembles ripple through his Empress. The underside of her neck and the gentle, next to her tangle of her mane. The feel of his lips on her withers, lingering causes Eris to smile. Oh yes, the desire for her is clear in his actions. The gentle tug at that last mouthful of mane, she does not squirm. She barely feels it before he is at the beginning of her supple shoulders. "Don't waste too much time then." Eris whispers in return. His breath is warm against her wet, soft skin, their scents mingle in the air...she is enjoying this far too much. Her body is his prize, at the moment she is dangling just out of reach. She hears this promise which only fill her with joy. "Take me then. I don't want to turn back. I need to feel you." They truly are doomed. In more ways than one. The feel of him pressing himself against her, only makes her want to scream. Eris does not want to play anymore, she was the evil and twisted madness to begin. Now his lips are at the slope of her croup she does not move still, she is ready, she does not want to wait any more. Everything is quiet, everything is still; the world is waiting. "I am yours right now, I may even be yours in the future." Quickly she turns one last time to look at him, his simple touch no longer brings her pleasure of joy. "I will not say it again...do not make me beg." A giggle, as she looks over her new General. "I am yours. Seal the deal General." Nothing is on her mind other than the remains of his touch. "Have me." " " 764 words. *Sprints away into a corner* @[Skywalker] They built my city on top of a grave, Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, Quarantined and forgotten for days, These are the stories of those who have gotten away |
