Blood Moon Date Night

Lying on his back beneath the full moon and the stars, both of them sticky with blood, making lewd jokes and innuendos back and forth with one another, it was hard to recall a time when Saracyn had hated Scylla. The brute had been an angry, contentious boy growing up and he had unfairly turned that aggression towards Scylla. He had lashed out trying to feel any semblance of control in his life, and in the end what good had it done? He had Avacyn, but he had hurt so many to get to where he was. He had scorned his arranged marriage with Scylla out of spite, and while he didn't think there was any love lost from her since she'd never shown any sorts of interest in him, it did make him wonder about the what ifs. What would they have been like together if different paths had been walked? Would this chemistry have ever manifested on a different road? There would be no answers to his musings, but it did make the Mendacium prince more than a little wistful—and perhaps remorseful too. He would never show that weakness though. Scylla deserved better than him anyway.

As he began to lavish her body with lustful touches, Saracyn felt Scylla crawl her way up his body, frustratingly moving that soft rump of hers away from his aching arousal, earning her a disappointed groan from the dire brute below her. It was a short-lived regret however, as those teasing little licks and nips at his face and muzzle brought a devilish smile to his lips. She asked in whispered, heated tones if he really wanted her on her back, or if he would prefer to press her down on her belly like their primal ancestors. That mental image caused the ache between his thighs to grow almost unbearable. Oh yeah, he liked that idea... Sara grit his teeth and let out a low, hungry growl in response to Scylla's proposition, that carnal fire burning out of control in his blue eyes.

Before he could reply, Scylla was sliding her svelte body back until Sara felt the hot press of intimate flesh together, coaxing a hot breath hissed out from clenched fangs. So agonizingly close...! He held her gaze, sinking into those mismatched jewels, her obsidian eye almost invisible in the dark. She was beautiful, a feral queen that brought out the animal in him. Fuck, Saracyn was a lucky brute tonight. She gripped his fur and Sara's paws squeezed at her hips, worshipping her body without inhibiting her movements. She wanted them to be beasts tonight and Saracyn would grant her wish. Grinning up at his little succubus practically in his lap, Sara growled in response, a deep and primal sound of a beast ready to rut. His hips bucked, thrusting up to slide himself against her, feeling the rub of heated flesh with a needy groan. "Then tempt your beast, Scylla," he rumbled back, claws pricking at the skin on her waist as serrated teeth flashed in the moonlight. He'd gladly be a beast with her—but she wouldn't be walking back to the island on her own volition by the time he was done with her.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"