Washed Out in the Mind of Me

She felt an intense surge of pleasure as he prepared himself for an attack- which never came of course. But she quite liked the fact that he’d been wary of it. Aware of the danger she posed. That understanding of her volatility was a very sweet tasting thought. She just hoped he knew she wasn’t after his life.

Her new comfortable spot against his side has its perks. She could feel the rumble of his voice passing through her, a warmth not due to the fire or the alcohol spreading through her. She’d fixed her gaze onto him as he spoke, hungrily eating up his admittance- his confession of her impact on him. So, he was frightened of her. For the way she could see him. She’d never thought of it as being such a grand thing, all she had to do was see what was plainly visible… but that was exactly his point. It was because it was her. Well. If he wanted to be liberated, she could do that. The frightening part was just one of the perks she had to offer.

At his final comment, she gained a predatory lust to do exactly that- have him at her mercy. For all his fear of appearing transparent before her, he still chose to be here; unwilling to abandon her touch even now. Nor escape the gaze he was so highly conscious of. “At my mercy?” Absinth’s lips slowly pulled into a grin, meeting his amber gaze with her own burning emerald.  A tantalizing offer indeed. He seemed so willing, so unabashedly, offering himself up; Ha. Like a sacrifice. Ugh, how was she supposed to leave that be? “Then you won’t mind if I devour you, right?” Her voice dropped into a dangerously suggestive purr that aimed to loosen his self-control more than it already was. She wanted him to snap. Or reach her own breaking point, whichever came first really. Absinth’s voice came lowly, boldly- Her neck craned to place lips at his ear, she let her breath tickle him as she spoke. “What do you want, Aresenn? To be eaten?” A wicked, lustful tone in her voice, she withdrew only enough to see just what sort of expression he had plastered across his face. Come on, run wild. Hadn't she already told him just how repressed he seemed?

wormwood