He rubs his hands gently through her soft hair, brings one finger to glide gently across her cheekbones, and down to trace along her jawline.
The moon is bright, it's irridescent glow surrounding and illuminating the hill and lake to reverberate back across the bed he lay upon.
His Nequee.
His beloved.
And how he had loved her time and time again.
She lifted her lips slowly, parting them, leaning in ever so slightly, looking for his soft kiss, her eyes, rare emerald slits in pale glow.
He responded in kind, kissing her softly at first, gently, then feircer as his passion grew.
She ran her hands up and down his body, the sensation sending ripples through the aethyr.
sending ripples up and down his very spine.
Just her touch.
Her very touch and she controlled him, his every movement, every thought, every motion of mind.
The pain of a thousand centuries rippling to the surface, played between her fingertips, like the sweetest of symphonies.
How he had longed for this touch.
How he had cried.
He was lost, and he wept tears of joy, as she continued to pursue, this soft gentle nuzzling, with her whole body, with her whole soul, fingertips, toes, feet, legs arms, head, lips, chin, cheek, ear.
All of her into softly stroking, softly nuzzling his body,
and he the same as her..
Gods, to be in her arms again, her soft lithe precious body, he traced the pale skin,lost himself in her hair, nuzzling softly, eyes closed, kissing gently, crying profoundly.
Not once did she touch him, sexually, tho he felt her, her firm breasts, the curve of her body.
The parts of her, wich had laid long dead inside him 10,000 years or more.
And inside of him things began to awaken.
Things to which he didn't even know he belonged.
Nequella.
He clung to her tightly, pouring, in this silent, sacred symphony, and moving body and form they had created. A song that only the Angels could hear, and only the Angels could weep and mourn.
Perhaps an hour had passed like this, perhaps two.
With every soft touch a new wave of orgasm rippled through him, on so many divine levels.
Spent so many times he hadn't thought possible.
Embarrased.
Hurt,
Pained
And trying to see through it all. Trying to see it all through.
When he was done, he lay in her arms and cried still, till long after the sun had risen into morning.
The moon is bright, it's irridescent glow surrounding and illuminating the hill and lake to reverberate back across the bed he lay upon.
His Nequee.
His beloved.
And how he had loved her time and time again.
She lifted her lips slowly, parting them, leaning in ever so slightly, looking for his soft kiss, her eyes, rare emerald slits in pale glow.
He responded in kind, kissing her softly at first, gently, then feircer as his passion grew.
She ran her hands up and down his body, the sensation sending ripples through the aethyr.
sending ripples up and down his very spine.
Just her touch.
Her very touch and she controlled him, his every movement, every thought, every motion of mind.
The pain of a thousand centuries rippling to the surface, played between her fingertips, like the sweetest of symphonies.
How he had longed for this touch.
How he had cried.
He was lost, and he wept tears of joy, as she continued to pursue, this soft gentle nuzzling, with her whole body, with her whole soul, fingertips, toes, feet, legs arms, head, lips, chin, cheek, ear.
All of her into softly stroking, softly nuzzling his body,
and he the same as her..
Gods, to be in her arms again, her soft lithe precious body, he traced the pale skin,lost himself in her hair, nuzzling softly, eyes closed, kissing gently, crying profoundly.
Not once did she touch him, sexually, tho he felt her, her firm breasts, the curve of her body.
The parts of her, wich had laid long dead inside him 10,000 years or more.
And inside of him things began to awaken.
Things to which he didn't even know he belonged.
Nequella.
He clung to her tightly, pouring, in this silent, sacred symphony, and moving body and form they had created. A song that only the Angels could hear, and only the Angels could weep and mourn.
Perhaps an hour had passed like this, perhaps two.
With every soft touch a new wave of orgasm rippled through him, on so many divine levels.
Spent so many times he hadn't thought possible.
Embarrased.
Hurt,
Pained
And trying to see through it all. Trying to see it all through.
When he was done, he lay in her arms and cried still, till long after the sun had risen into morning.
posted by Nephilim at 5:00 AM
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