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Enocra Woodland
Pine, spruce and firs alike...
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Darkness is something constantly consumes the beast; darkness being the all-consuming fire that leads him on to victory after victory. Anger, hate, and bloodlust too take part in such a task, consuming the wraith and throwing him into a stupor of demise. There was something else though, something else that fueled the fervor and caused a savage monster to break from charcoal skin and ravage: Nezera. Cerulean eyes fixate upon her form as her flesh shifts under such an air of excitement and he finds himself almost aching to see it again. Hair lifts from her neck in such a graceful manner that it seems that tainted doves would sprout from her and soar into the heavens. Though this does not appease the beast. His own spikes rise into the air like a battle flag. He had not forgotten such a dame. How could he? She was the definition of evil reincarnated into such a fine specimen that even he had fallen under the witch’s spell in their last encounter and that moment had been bittersweet. To be controlled is something he is not accustomed to. The succubus laughs, the sound sliding into his flattened ears far too easily and causing him to snarl in return. His lips curl back, bloody daggers flashing at her in distaste, or perhaps resistance, and he finds himself taking a step towards her, gaining a closer contact with her. It is a mistake though for now his body reacts, muscles twitching in desire as he inhales the mixed intoxicating aroma of blood and her sweet yet poisonous perfume. “Why, my dear, only searching for you." The beast growls, a low deliberate rumble that slides easily from his bloodied maw and upon her warm flesh. In the cold of winter, only heat dwells here. "You’ve missed me." Comes his husky statement. It is a fact, he can feel it in her body, see it in her unique gaze. The queen thinks she has the knight under control, waiting for commands to fulfill him and yet she was the one seeking him out. The thought causes a wickedly sadistic smile to break onto the wraith’s face Her body shakes though and the movement catches him off guard, forcing him to retreat a half step. Crimson falls from her dark pelt, splattering across the ground and upon himself. His pupils dilate, muscles tensing as hunger slips into those oceanic pools. “Don't you want a taste?" Another shudder breaks through his composed form as the dog allows his tongue to slip out from between bloodied jaws and slide along ragged, stained lips. She moves, her flesh connecting with her own and forcing him to erupt into another fit of growls. His head lifts, slightly, as if he is fighting the temptation towards her touch. It is so gentle, blood smearing upon his scarred palette as his growls mix with luxurious groans until finally, "I must have left a mark." harsh chords spill from his smoky mouth as he lowers his head to gently snap at her own maw. The beast was falling. Malikye pushes forward, forcing his chest into her own as muzzle slides along her shoulder blades. Teeth sneak towards her flesh and little bites are placed before tongue is released to intake such a taste as Nezera. The girl must be confused to believe that he belonged to her for it was the other way around. He pushes alongside her, moving away from her front only to be so harsh with her on the side. He knows she can take it, feels the way her body braces as his side rubs along her own. His own muscles flex with the impact, nips placed here and there as the tongue slips out to follow. He rounds, coming to the back of her and backing away for a moment, a sickening grin upon his bloodied face as he watches her, desiring to see how her body reacts to such a lack of touch from him. When he is satisfied, he moves towards her again, coming around the other side and repeating the deeds he had done on her previous side. Growls slip from his mouth, hackles remaining high as he comes around to face her. His crystals seem to glint dangerously as he backs away from her, putting such a slight space in between them. "Come to me…" The thick words are whispered, a quiet demand for such a thing. He waits, knowing the refusal will be plain within her gaze. Muscles tense and then, "Come to me." This time it is more stern, his once gentle, smoky tones turning into hardened, demanding tones. He waits, but hurry, the cannibal is not a patience man |
out of the darkness comes the knight MalikyE |
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