The End
05-20-2014, 07:08 PM
She is amused, and he doesn?t expect her to respond to his request in any sort of positive way. But she does; she moves closer, stepping onto the tips of her toes as her flesh contacts with his, tongue rushing against his muzzle. It sends a shockwave through him, and his own head lowers, tongue parting from his lips to press a gentle kiss to the top of her forehead. ?You?re one hell of a woman,? he tells her, enjoying the moment as he loses himself fin her gaze, feeling a fire that desires more but not wanting to push it, for fear that he would push her away.
Instead he merely stays where he is, the tension between them unbearable. He will let the Queen decide what she wants, but if she makes him wait too long he cannot promise himself that he will not be bold, that he will not propose something that he?s always wanted, but never quite so bad. He wishes to affirm to himself that she is still here, that she still breathes, for there is part of him that fears he was not quick enough. Part of him that fears he has not done the one good thing he is capable of doing; protecting.
Instead he merely stays where he is, the tension between them unbearable. He will let the Queen decide what she wants, but if she makes him wait too long he cannot promise himself that he will not be bold, that he will not propose something that he?s always wanted, but never quite so bad. He wishes to affirm to himself that she is still here, that she still breathes, for there is part of him that fears he was not quick enough. Part of him that fears he has not done the one good thing he is capable of doing; protecting.