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Only the dead have seen the end of war.
Her words, her pleas, percolated through the misery and self-doubt which was rapidly building walls around his mind and heart. But the tremor in her voice wiggled through the foundations of this lonely fortress his soul was building, cutting straight to the heart of him. He was giving her an out, a way to leave and disentangle herself from him. A way to go find Caleb, or whatever stallion (his eyes flared dangerously as rage pulsed in his chest), and no longer be tied to him.
He had said it, not in so many words. But the sentiment was there: ‘go if you want to, need to, or must.’
Yet here she was, pressing her silken cheek against his broad chest. The hard muscles beneath her tender touch shuddered, then caved, chest leaning into her face as his massive heart pounded in its confines. A low, long sigh came from the back of his throat (bordering on a groan) as the hardness left his body. He melted from stone to warm, living elephant.
“Don’t you understand? I love you.” The words were balm to the jagged holes her hallucination had ripped in him— in his confidence in her feelings for him. Feeling her tense against him as he retained his silence during these shattering moments, he lowered his head, muzzle gently tracing his favorite lines along her slender, cream neck. Thick lips ruffle her silken mane, before softly lipping the skin on her withers.
“And I love you, my golden princess” his low whisper rumbles as it usually does against her skin, “But we cannot keep doing this to each other. Our love has been fast, overwhelming, and passionate— not that I’ll ever complain about the last—“ a grin hovers on the corners of his mouth as he gently tugs on her satin skin with his teeth, “But it’s consuming us.”
He pauses, drawing circles down her back with his lips as he thinks. “Rexanna, you are mine. And I am yours. Yet we need to slow this— to savor and learn about each other. Without destroying ourselves…” Because that is what they were doing, repeatedly. In the meadow, in the fights, here in the Flats. A soft sigh sends a wave of warm air over her skin.
He had said it, not in so many words. But the sentiment was there: ‘go if you want to, need to, or must.’
Yet here she was, pressing her silken cheek against his broad chest. The hard muscles beneath her tender touch shuddered, then caved, chest leaning into her face as his massive heart pounded in its confines. A low, long sigh came from the back of his throat (bordering on a groan) as the hardness left his body. He melted from stone to warm, living elephant.
“Don’t you understand? I love you.” The words were balm to the jagged holes her hallucination had ripped in him— in his confidence in her feelings for him. Feeling her tense against him as he retained his silence during these shattering moments, he lowered his head, muzzle gently tracing his favorite lines along her slender, cream neck. Thick lips ruffle her silken mane, before softly lipping the skin on her withers.
“And I love you, my golden princess” his low whisper rumbles as it usually does against her skin, “But we cannot keep doing this to each other. Our love has been fast, overwhelming, and passionate— not that I’ll ever complain about the last—“ a grin hovers on the corners of his mouth as he gently tugs on her satin skin with his teeth, “But it’s consuming us.”
He pauses, drawing circles down her back with his lips as he thinks. “Rexanna, you are mine. And I am yours. Yet we need to slow this— to savor and learn about each other. Without destroying ourselves…” Because that is what they were doing, repeatedly. In the meadow, in the fights, here in the Flats. A soft sigh sends a wave of warm air over her skin.
Tembovu
@Rexanna
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