Get Out Alive.

She is receptive to his advance, though this is not a common dance between a man and a woman, oh no. This was a clash between two demented beings, each inclined to take what they wished from one another. He grips her throat with fervor, a deep rumble escaping his lungs through the skin caught in his teeth. Though the sea water had chilled him to the bone, his blood ran hot and shamelessly bothered by her… reactions. The woman leans into his violent touch, her own resonation of pleasure flowing freely from her lips like the most seductive purr. She is setting off a chain reaction within him, his psyche coming to revolve solely around her in this moment they were grappling for. The God smiles through the cutting of her claws within the flesh of his shoulders, her limbs moving to tear at his pure ivory coat; splicing through tissue and earning herself a constant drip drip drip of his divine blood. Setekh sucks in a deep breath, his ribs heaving with laughter caught in his lungs. She is a brutal thing. BRUTAL! BEAUTIFUL!! BLOOD IS SPILT! LISTEN TO HER LILT! Then, her jaws seek the soft skin of his cheek, and he lets her- pressing his face into her grasp as well as his chest against her own. Flush against her wine-colored body he is stricken with the urgent need to claw his way inside of her very soul.

And she is the picture of rapture. Every fiber of his being urges him to appease the masochistic desires of this girl- to send her into a blazing oblivion… And she is so willing. SO EAGER! WISH TO SEE HER WEAKER, TO FEEL HER DEEPER! She twists in his grasp as though to bring herself ever more pain, and he is so taken with her wretched need he is already adjusting his jaws around her throat when she pleads for his worst, applying more and more pressure - seeking to push her onto her back as he anticipated a lapse in her consciousness. He wanted her on her back.

"He Speaks" | 'He Thinks' | The Madness