IF I NEVER SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN

He arrived in short time, the pallid ghost, the pallid angel. The ivory king's scent sang to her, and she quivered to it's un-vocalized words in response. As he came close to her, seizing her scruff in his alabaster jawls, a whine of need escaped her jaws, calling to him, willing him forward. His words, as the flowed from his suppleness, made her take a second thought, did she really want this? Did she want to give herself to him, a brood, a whore, merely renting her womb for the space of his spawn, his blood. She didn't want it, she needed it. She needed a reason.

Shaky breath flowed from her jaws, as she gave a rattly sigh. "Are you going to waste our time with meaningless banter, my leige, or are you going to take what you so desire...." Turning her head, tilting it so that she could nearly see his pallid form, she let out a chuckle, "Tell my my lord, are you going to make me yours? Hmm?" Daring verbose, left her, and she would still herself, forcing her bodice to relax, to allow her king to take his pleasure, and do his will.