Be Not Afraid of Monsters

Alastor · 12-14-2020, 06:15 PM

Once he had Lurid alone and within his grasp, there was no more hesitation from the alabaster woman. Alastor could almost literally feel any reluctance melt away from her body, resistance disappearing with every little ministration the larger brute provided to his elegant fae. Despite the primal beast that was stirring within his core, Alastor never failed to make sure every move he made was tactfully out of the way of her injured leg. He wanted to provide his queen with mind-blowing pleasure, not searing agony. Once she was healed, however, their mating would be more akin to feral animals than passionate lovers, of that he was sure. He loved the way she quivered and trembled against his body, the man wondering just how much he could make her shake in his grasp and already anxious to find out. But the best part were those sounds she was making. By the gods, those lovely sounds! Each coo and purr and yip and moan in those dulcet duo vocals appeared to echo like a chorus of ecstasy around their cave, as if the shadows themselves were observing their coupling. Alastor's grin widened as the imagery of Lurid losing herself entirely to his world of shadows filled his brain. Yes, that would do quite nicely...

The dark-furred brute's own sounds of pleasure soon joined hers as kisses, bites, and licks were returned in favor to him. Every grace of her lips, teeth, tongue, or paws against his skin left burning trails of fire and electricity in their wake. The ache and the hunger deep within him intensified, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, pulse racing while her mouth explored the broad plains of his throat. A hiss of breath escaped him through clenched teeth while black eyes stared off into space. He lost himself to the delights of Lurid's affections. Although a part of him was urging him to forego the foreplay and simply take what he so desperately wanted, a greater part of him kept his beast reined in, savoring the moment. He would never get to experience another first time with Lurid. Alastor fully intended to make the most of his meal here tonight. Claws flexed from his paws to part glistening white fur and rake against soft pink skin. Powerful jaws opened in a quiet moan, the sharp fangs within maneuvering to catch a delicate ear between them. The large paw wound around her waist dipped lower, tracing every natural curve in the woman's body beneath paw pads that had long been calloused from a rough upbringing and many battles. No other wolf would touch Lurid like this. It was less of a thought and more of a fact. He was hers, and she was his alone. Tonight, if she bade it, that fact would be sealed before the gods. He would joyfully end the existence of anyone else who dared attempt to be him.

When she pulled back, Alastor lowered his face to meet her gaze, watching with excited curiosity as that sinful grin made a slow appearance. His own grin—perturbing to every other wolf save for her—had never left his face since they'd run off together. He studied her the way she seemed to be studying him, taking in every familiar feature in Lurid's beautiful face. The way her sparkling white fur lay and the ways it grew, those holographic eyes that looked as if they could see your very soul, those razor sharp fangs that promised both the most exquisite pleasure and the most unforgettable pain... Lurid was a wicked angel and a blessed demon all at once. She was the ghost that haunted his mind, the venom that had poisoned his soul, the fire that scorched his tainted heart, the water that drowned him ever so slowly. She was his. All his. He was hers. Forever hers. They needed no ceremonies, no customs, no traditions to know that truth. And judging from the look in her eyes, he had a suspicion that she was beginning to realize that too.

For a brief moment, Alastor listened to the way Lurid panted, watched the way she trembled and shook, and generally loving every reaction he was able to pull from her. What he hadn't been expecting though was for the sudden lunge forward—and the stab of pain that came with it. Alastor's jaws clenched hard, teeth gritted and grinding to silence a grunt and a snarl in response to the sensations of Lurid's fangs sinking into and tearing through skin and muscle on the side of his neck. His pulse quickened, thrumming harder and faster against the teeth that were precious millimeters away from his carotid. The stinging pain blended with the burning lust to create a cocktail of euphoria in the twisted brute's brain, chemicals colliding and driving him wild. The corners of his mouth turned up, the subdued snarl turning into a manic grin as he uttered a low, dark laugh that reverberated around the darkness of the cave. A shudder ran through his body. His muscles tensed and relaxed, toes curling under the pleasure the pain brought to him. He had known of Lurid's cannibalistic tendencies—they were often the discussion of many gossips around the Mirovis pack way back when—and had never paid them any mind. Until now. Now, with her canines in his neck and his blood seeping out to her hungry tongue, the lust-drunk male was finding a major pro to her demented delight.

Still chuckling and laughing to himself, Alastor moved to bring his free paw up to gently caress the back of Lurid's head, cradling the fae against his neck as she drank his blood with crazed glee if she didn't pull away. Alastor did nothing to resist her, relenting to his lover's insistence and giving himself to sate her desires. If Lurid wanted a taste of him, he would give her all she could handle. His essence, in every shape and form, would be given to her tonight, and blood would not be the last thing she received from him before they were spent. If she hadn't resisted, the paw on the back of her head would flex, giant paw pads massaging her scalp and adding a touch of pressure to gently remind her of his own power. These were the paws that had crushed skulls beneath them, the same claws that had rent throats to shreds and tore life away from many a creature; now they were holding her as gently as one would a newborn pup. Both demons were equally terrifying in their abilities to kill and destroy, and yet here they were, locked int he throes of passion, savoring one another in their own unique ways. Alastor wanted to speak, to make some teasing comment about her liking the taste of him, but no words came from him. Only a deep, guttural moan as his queen licked over the wounds in his neck and brought him an ecstasy the likes of which he'd never imagined possible.

"Speech" | Thoughts

Warning: Alastor is an explicitly mature character for violent and sexual content. Read his threads with caution.
As his mate, Manea may enter any of Alastor's threads not marked Private.
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