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AFFLICTION

In a world you thought you knew, secrets remained hidden in the shrouds of time and destiny. In the age of the internet and television, the characters of your childhood fairy tales, your favorite movies, or even your wildest desires are all reality. Humanity has found itself no longer alone. The monsters are out of the closet. Magic is real. Society has found itself divided into those who have accepted the 'others', and those who wish to send these creatures into a fiery grave.

Here you'll find a church that promises lasting life by embracing the eternal curse of the vampire. There are groups of humans who have risen up to create hate groups to destroy the supernatural. An eternal struggle between angels and demons amidst it all, threatening destruction of the entire world in the cross-fire. All the while, most of society works, lives, breathes, right along side monsters and beautiful creatures from their dreams. Who are you among them?

Welcome to Savannah, Georgia.

Character of the Quarter
Seth Jefferson

Thread of the Quarter
Old Face, New Trouble

Hero of the Quarter
Freya Storm

Villain of the Quarter
Zander & Sabryn

Pure Heart of the Quarter
Fouch Sobry

Dark Heart of the Quarter
Etain Devlin

Romantic of the Quarter
Lark Eswin

We Ship This of the Quarter
Lark & Zander

Valued Member of the Quarter
Sacha & Firefly

New Character of the Quarter
Seth Jefferson

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 Homecoming - Etain Devlin, The Return of the King- AC
Posted on: May 31 2018, 06:19 PM

Notes:
Homecoming
Tag:
Etain Devlin
Words:
In The Lands of Myth
all alone just the beat inside my soul
where my dreams are made of gold
The tremor that wove across the greening that circled the very sturdy stone arch whose age was beyond the count, was felt far and wide. The stride that caused it was followed by a faint echo in every leaf and tree. The Summer King….or more precisely Vincent had come home. Home being this land that had seen him at war, at peace and often dispatching himself to rescue others. He would not ask of any what he would not seek to do himself. A king is but a crown. A man is his honor. Vincent was no less. He only vexed his inability to allow his own to be told before..but the council was a dastardly mess whose voices were becoming far too grating to his ears. This the last time they could call him. That right revoked. An act that may have ramifications. Vincent could only hope.

The man. Tall and built well enough, simple clothing adorned his frame and the vines that slightly twisted about his arm like a lovers caress gave evidence that he was in fact well and unharmed. He continued his stride towards the archway almost trying not to sense, to feel. There was always a reason he sought the paths left traveled. For to walk in the light he knew that he had to divine in the dark. The dark where a svelte golden mystery wrapped in flesh and holding steady to his very heart dwelled. Though it was not the most popular to those close to him, his heart would never release that delicate ebony souled creature. He had but to close those tri hues and he could replay every breath and touch that passed twixt them. She would always be his very root. Etain Devlin. The Seelie Unseelie lover and companion. One look could kill most, one look and they were like craven children released unto a sweet shop. Ahh the addiction, the very nature of such bondage. He would give everything and yet she would naught ask. The dance between them will always remain— the light will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the warmth of light. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end.

Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Thus the only defining words to the very nature of the woman. The very need of the man.



Vel¤



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Posted on: May 31 2018, 07:44 PM

They should have never touched. Never entwined one soul with the other. For if ever there were two people who were truly two sides of a coin, it was Vincent Algiers and Etain Devlin. One given to the light and the other the darkness. A King and Queen who had once torn apart a battlefield against the other. The former claiming victory, and yet never allowing pride to lord it over the other.

Instead, he would become her savior. When others had cast Etain to the barren sands of the Mitclan wastes, Vincent would find her. Tend to her wounds, and mend her broken psyche. Never leaving her side, until she was made whole again.

How she remembered those nights. Drifting awake from pained sleep, to find Vincent sleeping near to her. His kind gaze finding hers, as he told her stories of hope, of the good that one could be. How gentle he had been, when Vincent had every right to turn his back like so many had done before. In was in these tender hours, in his touch, the music of his voice, that Vincent had won a place in Etain’s dark heart. And a craving would be born, that would burn deep within the pit of her being for all time.

In the very hour that the shadows told Etain that Vincent was returning to the Summer Kingdom, she knew that she had to see him. How long had it been, since she had felt his eyes upon her. Heard the rolling wind of his voice, or felt the careful grip of his hands upon her flesh. Just the memory made her heart beat like that of a frantic raven in a blustering wind. She had to be there, to meet him. Even when there were those who might try to keep the Winter Queen away from their Green Lord.

Without a word to any within her own Keep, Etain slipped through the mirror in her bedroom. Gold flesh melting into the reflective pool, to cascade like golden petals upon the other side. To a room that Etain knew every inch. Once within the King’s bedroom, she disappeared into the shadows. Waiting, listening for just one breath past his lips, the glimpse of his handsome and rugged face. The King of the Forest. And she, his golden consort Queen.


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Posted on: May 31 2018, 08:35 PM

Notes:
Homecoming
Tag:
Etain Devlin
Words:
In The Lands of Myth
all alone just the beat inside my soul
where my dreams are made of gold
Vincent passed beneath the archway and paused lifting his head to gather the essence of his home. There above the throne room rested a balcony with those ornate doors open allowing nature its tip toe through. As it returned it carried the redolent sense of home, of the wood that wove about the room, the soft clean scent of bedding ever changed, the slight nuance of…

A woman

He moved with the agile step of his kind, across the courtyard and into the very halls he adored. With a quick smile to the ones that spotted him, Vincent ascended the gilded steps his intent to see what his senses told him had to exist. Was this madness? Addiction? A miasmic mirage of longing? He would must know as he ducked past the other doors to the very one where his own chambers rest. The large ante room, the soft chairs who had seen attired tossed to cling upon their finely woven fabrics, the thrush floor of softest pine covered with pelts from a winter’s harvest. And if his senses were correct the scent of a woman. One woman. The Woman.

Digits closed about the latch and he entered with a flourish, his steps pausing as he took in the soft shadows that clung about the cornerstones, the arched doors that still breezed about like dancing ghosts. Here standing among his own bedchambers, he could feel her. His breath came soft and quick, the heart slammed against those ribs like a falcon seeking freedom. Turning slowly on booted heel he breathed in the essence. Closing his eyes, that voice offered all he could to the ghost who was no more ghost then he. “I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty.”

He could recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise,with just the very scent. Once, after having their fill of one another –after fabulous, insane exertions that left them limp and azure-barred–he would gather her in his vine dappled arms with, at last, a mute moan of tenderness (her skin glistening in the moon light coming from the walkway through the slits in the blind, her soot-black lashes matted, her eyes aglow and filling his very soul)–and the tenderness would deepen to a craving need, and he in his agonized selfless tenderness (with his soul actually hanging around her naked body and ready to repent), all at once, and it would be like they had never ceased the touch, the need. He slowly opened those sooty lashes to view the very shadows. There was she? Was his mind awash with hope or was the dream a reality wrapped in glistening darkness?



Vel¤






Kitty

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Posted on: Jun 5 2018, 08:11 PM

How she had tried to push him out of her mind. That the memory of him and what had been would seep into the cracks of some distant cave, never to return again. Etain couldn’t be happy to just know that he had been in her life. That his hands had held to her, and she to him. That from his mouth, his kisses offered her the summer rain. Warm upon her lips, melting away the ice that was her heart. His body breaking against her own, like the crashing of great waves. Her voice singing loud with ecstasy. Until she couldn’t scream no more. Etain left speechless. Shivering within his arms.

Palms slid against the smooth walls to each side, as Etain buried herself deeper into the corner. Her heart continuing its rapid beat, even as her breath ceased. Quiet, the Unseelie Queen listening for his steps, for his voice. When she heard him. The quick slick sound of the leather soles of his boots. The click of the door handles. And the sound of the air being sucked through the room, as Vincent flung the doors open. The King of Summer and the Bright Court swooping in like a great falcon.

By the ancients, he was even more handsome than she remembered. The smile on his face brightening every corner of the room. Her shadows sweeping quickly back, disappearing into the dim edges of furniture, behind the thick velvet of curtains and fur.

Her heart had become an instant amber flame. Veins brightening within the darkness deep within her being. Sending fracture golden lightning streaking towards the base of her spine. She stepped out of what was left of the shadows. Her face lit with a smile that met her eyes. Shades of the sun, the green valley, and gray blue sky sparkling, as she sought Vincent’s gaze.

“And I for the voice that sings of an enchanted wood, calling my heart from it’s depths. That I might become entangled within the sturdy hold of your arms. Held against the robust trunk of your body, that I might languish in your light. Subject to my one and only King...my love,” Etain moved across the floor with the graze of a swooping raven. Rushing towards Vincent quick as the sun that cast it’s sun against the mountain. She reached for him. Wrapping her arms about his neck. Her mouth taking his without delay. A kiss, a thirst. Her tongue diving past his lips, tasting the honeysuckle nectar against his tongue. Her body pressed to his. Gold melting into the mighty oak. Her heart a rush of beating wings. The King of Summer had returned. And how the shadows of her being recoiled behind her gilded heart.


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Posted on: Jun 6 2018, 12:40 AM


Notes:
Homecoming
Tag:
Etain Devlin
Words:
In The Lands of Myth
As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin
Deep in his soul the words whispered the second those tri hued irises fell with grace upon what shadows clung and caressed. The brightest star of night for the sunlight loved moon dark that it was willing to sacrifice its own for the other…words that were caught against her lips as the golden wings of beauty fell into his arms and he wrapped them about her slight frame with a verocity that only underlined those whispered words against her petals that parted with the breath they shared. “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” His hand slid up to lay against that delicate spine and he dove deep into her lips as if to draw out that golden soul and wrap himself in its decadence for eternity. Etain. Devlin. There was never another nor would be.

To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her very dew born petals, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her hips, a sway, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, they were indelibly imprinted upon his psyche. A pattern of swirling gold and black that drowned him whole heartedly within its very core. His lips moved across her cheeks and chin, tasting each feature as if memorizing the flavor most grand, most unique and most addicting. .

No crown no throne, just the bright sunlight wrapped in gilded shadows, each needing on another and each ill prepared to part. He bent slightly only enough to release begrudgingly the touch and taste of her cheek bones as he swept his vined arm beneath her slender legs and lifted her against him. A slight willow wisp that the oak held as its bough dipped and once more tangled into the kiss of shadowy leaves and golden eyes. To drink of them was to be lost. Gods never let me be found..Vincent Algiers whispered into the hungered kiss. Let me never be found for the path of the lost leads me straight there to home, to her.



Vel¤



Kitty

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Posted on: Jun 6 2018, 08:20 AM

Song: Carry Fire
He would wrap her up within his very words. A spell woven within the air, calling to the vessel that pounded with the flurry of dark wings. Yes, that she loved him. He that was bound to the throne that she once craved. How strange was it was. This, now, the deep kiss that she hungered. The slick tip of her tongue tangling with Vincent’s own. Sweeping against the slickline of his teeth. Memorizing every hidden inch within. His rough beard coarse against her soft skin.

She was lifted within his arms. Her long legs leaping like that of a practiced dancer. Wrapping them about his masculine girth. Elegant digits cradling his face, as she continued to devour his torrid kisses. Breathless, as soft needy whimpers bubbled up from the back of her throat.

Finally, Etain would reluctantly pulled from the kiss. Her lips hovering near to Vincent’s, she smiled. Wild irises dancing back and forth, looking into his the distant forests, the deep earth. The one that she would forever crave, but never hold to her darkness. Never claim at the side of her ebony throne, and to that of the Unseelie. No, for she adored him. Vincent and his light. A luminosity she would never extinguish.

“Your journey’s leave me wanting, Summer King. That the world needs their King, I understand. But, lo it leaves something barren within me, when you are not here,” She spoke in a warm breath, that danced with the delight of a child. Soft kisses placed at the edges of his mouth. Fine hairs prickling at her supple lips. The brush of his whiskers upon her skin. Her gaze taking in the flickering lines of Vincent’s smile. “Always you leave, but you return with my heart in celebration.”


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Posted on: Jun 7 2018, 10:38 PM


Notes:
Homecoming
Tag:
Etain Devlin
Words:
In The Lands of Myth
As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin
Vincent beheld his Queen. The darkness her mask when gold light glimmered about her frame. We all bear them, the dark and light. He was a Seelie, son of a greening knight and wild hearted as any, that his light. But he had a darker mask, the throne, the crown. That façade where he must lift weapon to defend his people. The light and the dark are not so distant and to that end he had always known she too held the duality. The ability to own both within and yet….choose which one to feed.

He had seen it at its worst and best in the underlands where he had found her. He who had began her descent had left to rescue her. The why or how puzzled his own court until they realized that the truth was there but for pride. Seelie, unseelie, fey or man they all had within them the ability to be both and any. That it was not blood but bound choices that created what became their future.

And just as he had never given up on Etain, he had known he had loved her for more time then physically known. There would always be those who trifled about him or any Fey, sexuality a card they played well. But that was not the same as having on hold your heart. Hold it so well that you often forgot how much it meant when you were away. He had thought of her constantly. The gilded swan. Ebony sleek and gilded bright against his flesh. Swirling passioned shadows and blinding light of shimmering breath. Not a single night he slept, when he did, that she was not painted across his lids covered in stardust and kisses.

He gazed at that visage his mind and lips had memorized a hundred times. “To be away is only sweetened by the return. To come home and find you Etain in my arms is by far a greater boon to any man than the gods should allow. You spoil me and yet, I could not exist without you for you are beloved my breath” He whispered deep and low against her head. It was a truth. For Seelie had no claim to require subterfuge with their own. No reason to do so when the truth was thundering in his soul and echoing through the very heart she held.

He turned enough to step closer to the very edge of a bed. Adroitly twisting to drop onto it and snuggle her closer upon his seated lap. One hand released slowly the hold to slide up and cup her chin whispering against those heated petals before he dived beneath the waves that crashed within them ““I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.”



Vel¤




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Posted on: Jun 12 2018, 06:44 AM

Song: Carry Fire
Within his mouth was the luscious taste of gardens. Honeysuckle and ivy, it’s sun kissed dew wet upon her tongue. Forests of laughter and song recalled from the memories of her youth. Of innocence and gaiety, the marvel that was the Bright Court and all it’s whimsical charm.

And of love. The promises spoken on his lips, that wove her heart into his. How Vincent loved her with both words and his actions. Even as he knew her darkness, he would hold her and cover her with honeyed kisses. For within the King’s arms, Etain was as close to her beginning as she would ever be. With Vincent, the fine slivers of Seelie light inside her being brightened. Yet, still never luminous enough to shy away the darkness that clouded her soul.

Nimble as a faun, Etain leapt into his arms. Her thighs tightening to his waist. Her arms wrapped again about his neck. She laughed with joy for a fleeting moment, before her mouth sought to kiss his whiskered cheeks. To brush against the scent of the forest in his skin. She could never get enough of how good he smelled. To bathe in the oaken leaves. To tangle within the ivy, wrapping herself with his scent.

She pulled back from the kiss, and looked into his enchanting eyes and smiled, “Oh, your Majesty. How I have missed you.” She placed a quick kiss on his mouth again, then look again into his gaze, “What would we have to do this day? This day would you have me with you? We could make love? Or, we could ride across the feywild, then make love, then ride again until the horses are spent? Or should we drink...make love..then drink again? Please tell me, that the Lord of the Forest does not have other plans.”



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Posted on: Jun 12 2018, 07:04 PM


Notes:
Homecoming
Tag:
Etain Devlin
Words:
In The Lands of Myth
As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin
Vincent caught her as if she was but a feather in the wind. A treasured gift from the flight of some black swan passing in the moon light on its quest for a mate. His hands slid about her as finger tips pressed against her memorizing yet again ever curve and dip of her form. Living and breathing liquid gold beneath its surface and silken threaded tresses that fell like a cloak. This was beauty, the half lit shadows and warmth that could burn a brightest flame o’er his nights. This was what men fought for, this was what a king was blessed to be holding. The fairest gem.

Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead. Passion that sparks the fire that stokes the heart into a love that passes surpasses all. For the gilded beauty that glided over the lands, shadow dark and feared and yet he would bow before her visage if only to touch her once. That is a love beyond the pale shades of man.

“I am yours and I would say we do these things all beloved. We drink until the table turns and we are strewn about the surface creating passions wrest, we ride until the horses no longer wish to carry us and I shall deny you naught between the bough and the branch. There is no other anything that would stand betwixt us. I say this to you now: I love you, with no beginning, no end. I love you as you have become an extra necessary organ in my body. I love you as only a girl could love a boy. Without fear. Without expectations. Wanting nothing in return, except that you allow me to keep you here in my heart, that I may always know your strength, your eyes, and your spirit that gave me freedom and let me fly at the very moon”



Vel¤




Kitty

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Posted on: Jun 18 2018, 09:12 AM

Song: Carry Fire
Had he been another king, she would have had his ruin. Wrapped him up in her wicked web, and then tore out his heart, his very soul. Taking from him everything he cared for. His people, his kingdom, his throne. It would have been hers. For it had rightly been so. Promised in her youth. Taken once in war.

But, fate would place before her envious heart a single sentry. A man to which her dark heart could not break thought. A light, a love, to which even one of the most evil among them could not design to dispatch death. For instead, she would love him. Joined with those other hearts to which the Queen held within the tomb of her own. Lonan had become her Darkness. One who could claim to know her most darkest desires. The deviancy that she craved. She the huntress of the dark and he the fierce beast. Their love a wicked thing of blood, pain, and destruction. And yet, she would with this, need the light. The light of love that was Vincent Malwen Algiers.

She laughed. Her arms wrapped about his neck. Her face lit up with a smile that met her eyes. For with him, she felt joy. Felt the weightlessness that was given to youth and new lovers.

“My dear Vincent, you shower me with adoration that I do not deserve. And yet, you know that I will swallow it whole. Wrapping it within my being to treasure always. As I do you,” She leaned forward kissing him. A kiss that began chaste and yet playful. The brush of her mouth to his instantly reigniting the heated electricity within her golden frame. Her hands reached back to cup his face, as she rocked against him. Rolling her hips forward. Pressing her moistening sex against the fabric that shielded them. “Make love to me, my King. Lay me bare against your body. Plow me as the summer fields, that the winter that is my body might know the light that is within you.”

“I can deem no longer to not know you,” Her hands became motion. Quickly reaching for the edge of his coat, she began to peel it from the board width of his shoulders. Shucking it off each length of his muscular shoulders. Flinging it away to the floor behind her, “Or you to know me, as stag would his hind.”


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Posted on: Jun 18 2018, 07:33 PM


Notes:
Homecoming
Tag:
Etain Devlin
Words:
In The Lands of Myth
As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin
There was never another that could hold a candle to the very flicker flame shadow that wrapped his heart. It belonged to her. She was not just a queen or just a woman she was The Queen and The Woman. Every single arch and curve of her frame was a puzzle piece that fit against his own chiseled body. Every small shadowy hollow and the soft almost dove like sound that shivered from that deep place within her were music and home to this King. No throne was ever as welcoming as the cleave of those milk white thighs. None. “ You deserve it Etain, for there are never enough pretty words to even do justice to the way the very blooms pale at your visage”

The kiss, unbearably fragile like a hummingbirds wing, a spike of sensation, shudders along his frame. Everything Vincent has ever thought about who he may be or is, what she is, suddenly no longer matters. No decorated words or wards, only the unbearable sensation so smooth and electric along his very jawline. Tender at first like a kitten playing at the game before it suddenly has both his hands sliding up along her arms to cup that beautiful face and dive into a power less helpless swirl of passion that comes without being culled. Every kiss every touch that they have ever shared or craved bubbles up into this very wave of emotion and physical need that grows faster and deeper as tongues wrap about one another seeking both domination and submission within both of them. Tasting her like a bee denied its honey for far too long. His petal smooth winter rose.

The break of lips most regretfully only gives way to his clothes sliding from him, one hand reached to yank the offending belt and then he lifted her back side, cupped against him while one hand jerked the slacks from his length. His hardness pushed back against the delicate lips already silently beckoning that which man is powerless to stop. The primal need of his mate, his woman. And she called deep within to that which rested inside Vincent. A call he could not deny, could not slow yet as his hand slid back to hold that smooth curved back side and drop back against mulberry sheets. Once there his hands slid from her back to press fingertips along the tensile rib cage holding her own heart, its beat like a war drum against him. Each slide of those possessive fingers was closer to sliding up and along the proud upward sway of her breasts, heaven above him and a fire heating beneath as his fingers teased along those tender nubs, his own breath coming in husky pants, her name a syllable falling within them.

Flesh soft as butter and taut like a fine sheen of translucent silk danced beneath his hands and he lifted his lashes to capture the liquid gaze of his desire. Etain, resplendent above him, a beautiful and deadly foe, a prized friend, his Queen, his heart and his soul. Lips moved as his hands became more urgent, a language that was known between them. Vines curled about his wrist caressing against her own sliver soft curves. “I want you Etain..for this moment, for this life, forever”



Vel¤




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Posted on: Jun 25 2018, 07:38 AM

Song: Carry Fire
She would move like a frantic being. A thing caught within the hooks of the sharp barbs that was her hunger. Etain’s fingers becoming swift as the flight of birds, she reached for the silken gown that rested so close to her flesh. She stood on her knees, lifting her body from her lover’s. Tugging her gown upwards along the breathless length of her bein, until it spilled from over her head. It fell to the edge of the King’s bed, then slowly became pulled by gravity. Joining Vincent’s shirt where it pulled on the floor.

The Queen then turned her hands to her lover. Reaching for his slacks, his briefs, with the flutter of her fingers. With reluctance, her bare feet stepped back to the floor. Moving away to help Vincent with the rest of his garments. The last of his clothing barely removed from his flesh, then Etain moved swift as a doe. Sliding back upon Vincent’s lap, as he moved back to fall upon the bed.

“Ohhh, my King. How my body quivers for your taught bow to strike…,” Her voice rolled with a low breath. She felt him. The shudder of the King’s cock bumping against the needy bud that crowned her sex. The muscles of her inner thighs quaked. Things within her being craving instantly to mount upon that turgid member. To feel his thickness forcing its way within the tight wanton sheath of her being.

And yet, for all that was shameless within, the golden blonde did not want to rush this moment. For in doing so, there was the fear that once again they would be lost from the other. The forever that rolled so husky from his lips, something she needed. To cling to, this moment. Flesh to flesh. Without the narrowed view of others. Just she and her King.

Etain reached down between her thighs, and drew up that heavy member. Wrapping her long fingers about Vincent’s length, she rubbed it gently up and down. Her palms pressing into the sides of his cock. Her damp sex rubbing forward and back against the thickening swell of his sack. Coating it with the dripping need that slipped from saffron flesh.

“Oh, that forever I would make you cum, my King,” Etain smirked. The flower of her words falling like petals upon his skin, as the Unseelie Queen divined to become lewd as her hunger for him. Her hips shifted lower upon his body. Long legs spilling away to settle between Vincent’s. She pressed a kiss to his chest. Then lower, and lower. A damp trail of open mouth kisses made lower and lower. Her torso and then chest rubbing against his needy cock, until Etain’s mouth met the tip.

A hand once again about the King’s length, Etain brought the turgid staff to her mouth. Leaving soft pliant kisses about it’s tip, and then the edge that circled the thick applehead of his member. Her tongue swiping a taste of his precum, Etain smiled, “Ohh, you taste just as I remember…”



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97 posts | Advanced Member | Fey | Send Message
900 | Queen of the Unseelie | Sidhe - Fey | |
"I am my worst enemy."
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Posted on: Jun 30 2018, 07:19 PM

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matters

1,329 words ▪ for Etain

It was the wildness of it that got her that raged a fire stoked within him, : the primal lust, the sheer lick of wicked heat that her tongue delivered upon him, quickly finding ways to express their sacred hunger to each other in animal passion. He fell back against disheveled sheets and groaned her name like a sacred mantra. He clung to her, hands raking at the smooth skin of her shoulders, the harsh hurry of his breathing matching hers, his body poised on the edge of ecstasy, and without warning reached down to drag her up and against him with a primitive masculine growl crushing her lips against his own.

He kissed her , tasting his own sweetness along with the nectar of her own against his lips.his hands splayed across her and with a shove of his shoulder twisted to pin her ungently against the bed. “ I want to drown against you, our bodies woven together and raging in ecstatic synchrony. I don’t want to lie in an easy, hollow embrace. I want to feel the hunger emanating from you. I want the desire to swallow us” Vincent whispered a husky accented tattoo against her collar bone as his hips rose betwixt the milky smooth thighs to cleave deeply those swollen petals whose path led to a mysterious Elysium only few had the breadth to enter.

He buried his face into her softness as the rhythm of their bodies began a slow but surely tumultuous dance. Every sense acutely tuned to each and the other. Feel- the silken flesh patterned with his own heat, taste the nectar of desire, and the scent of her. She smells like passion; like irresistible desire and temptation. She’s eclipsing in a daytime and shining at night. . She smells like seduction; she is both an apple and a snake. She smells like great expectations; like success; like centuries-old glory. She’s like the last refuge..his refuge the port that holds the storm he cannot deny. And every clash of their very soul is like falling together from the stars who wander both skies above.



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