Blood Moon Date Night

The response that Saracyn received from Scylla at his goading came in the form of the svelte nubile little fae sinking down onto his member, causing the giant brute's face to contort as the rush of heady pleasure, jaws clenched and teeth bared as he hissed out a breathy groan. With their bodies made one, Sara felt every movement Scylla's body made against his, her claws dancing across his chest leaving delightful tingles in their wake. She claimed her beast would call his out, and oh by the Ancients, he truly believed she would! Scylla owned him in this moment—body, mind, and soul. She claimed him with every roll of her hips, every squeeze of her body around his. Sara was in awe of Scylla in her element, his brain swimming and mind numb with the cascading waves of ecstasy that threatened to drown him each time their hips collided, and oh, how they collided with such earth-shattering force!

Scylla sang him a symphony of her carnal delights as they fucked beneath the light of the full moon. She was such a different experience from Avacyn. His mate was demure, introverted, submissive to him at his whim. Scylla was wild, untamed, raw sexual energy, primal in the way she commanded her body and exerted her skills over him. She set Saracyn's blood on fire, and he in turn sang his song of lust and pleasure back to her, grunts and moans and growls of ecstasy escaping him. His paws flexed over her hips, digging claws into her thighs to hold her close, closer, wanting her ever closer, like their bodies couldn't possibly be touching enough! Even from his back, Saracyn was an active participant, bucking into Scylla's movements like a wild mustang. Fuck, she was so good at this!

Reveling in this moment with his veritable goddess of sex and lust, Sara worshipped Scylla's body with his sounds and his movements. He was drunk on the pleasure, high on the lust. Sex had always been the brute's vice of choice, but this was like taking a hit of the finest designer drug. Every thrust, every grind, every press and slide and pull and squeeze tightened that ball of molten fire in his core, bringing him closer to the precipice. She was so snug, so unbelievably good at everything she did, she had the Mendacium brute seeing stars as he gazed up at her with lust-drunk eyes. He wasn't going to last long this first round either, but like the slate and cream fae bringing him to heaven and beyond, Sara had plenty of stamina to keep up with her all night.

Saracyn was snapped back into reality when he felt Scylla's paws upon his own, guiding them up her legs to rest on her shapely hips. Their eyes met, and then Scylla showed him why he was being told to hold onto her. Scylla's body redoubled her efforts on him, the rush of pleasure hitting Sara like crashing into a wall. Her muscles worked him over, her body swallowed all of his length into her core, Sara's vision blacked out amidst the assault and he was only vaguely aware of the noises she was coaxing from him, primal sounds crossed between guttural growls and heated moans. At the same time, the pair of lovers came undone, Sara's head falling back to the grass with a snarl as he was hurled straight into the throes of sweet release, paws clutching at her hips to keep Scylla's body pressed tight to him while they rode out the intensity of their orgasms together. Their bodies writhed, ground together, thrashed in one another's embrace as pleasure racked every nerve in his body. It was by far one of the best he'd ever had too.

As the peak ebbed away into the afterglow, Saracyn's senses slowly began to return, dulled by the haze of climax and ecstasy. The dire brute was panting, gasping for breath while he gazed up at Scylla still straddled across his waist. Bathed in moonlight, perched atop him like he was her throne and this was where she belonged, Saracyn felt his heart race. She was so beautiful in this moment, a seraphim of feral lusts slaked. His paws rubbed and roamed over her hips, savoring the feel of Scylla's curves in his paws while he could. She looked down at him and the moment their eyes met, those mismatched jewels piercing into his bright arctic blues, Sara felt the fire rise within him once more. Scylla wasn't the only one feeling the effects of ruefulness—especially not when she spoke, and the words that left her lips both made his heart skip and break at the same time.

She could have loved him... She could have. Ah, but Saracyn had ruined that chance forever. He'd been given a choice, and he had chosen. He could have had this with Scylla forever, right from the start. How different would his life had been if he'd followed through on their arranged marriage? Wistful melancholy punched him in his heart. Her sentimentality and vulnerability in this intimate moment both took Saracyn by surprise but also encouraged him to let his own walls down. Only two wolves had ever truly seen Saracyn without his guard up—Scylla was one of them. Cerulean eyes glazed over with that pleasure drunk afterglow and a yearning she'd stirred in him, Sara lifted one giant paw from her hip to stroke over her cheek, white-tipped toes gingerly following her jaw to the curve of her neck, touching her the way he would his soul mate.

Saracyn could have said the same words back to Scylla, told her the truth of how he could have loved her too, but the Mendacium brute had never been good with words. Actions, those he was good with. So he would show Scylla how much he could have loved her. With his paw sliding back up her neck to her cheek, Sara wrapped his paw around the back of Scylla's neck and pulled her svelte body down across his while they were still joined so he could sit up and press his muzzle to hers. Slowly, deeply, passionately. He kissed her the way he had when sealing his Soul Mating Pact. He poured all that Scylla meant to him into that kiss—passion, desire, lust, but also affection, admiration, respect. Saracyn kissed Scylla for as long as his lungs would permit him to, breaking away with a lecherous growl only once he had to breathe. Then, with a fire burning in his blue eyes, Sara kissed her again, tongue sliding into her maw to taste her, to feel her across his chest, connected at their hips, in his arms. He wanted to feel all of Scylla as much as he could and never let her go.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"