Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground
she is feral. she hunts hearts. she devours songs. the violent hunger in her, howls with frenzied lust. she is a fallen angel of devilish need and wanton sensuality. she wants everything and nothing at all once. she destoys everything she touches and calls it 'love'. across her scarlet lips, breathes the devil's promise. the devil's wants. how fervent her allure. how fervent her touch. all seductive caresses, and sensuous hunger, lathered in divine heat and carnal warmth. everything she does is with fire. with passion. with ecstasy. with war. her fearsome eyes, rake over him. like the metaphoric curling of nails, malevolently groping against skin. scratching. teasing. bleeding. scratching. teasing. bleeding. aching to pierce his body, and tear the soul from the beautiful darkness of his flesh. aching, to see him come undone by the violence of her kiss.
i could make you wild. i could set you free. she almost wants to whisper. to curse him. to damn him. to send him crashing into the earth. drown him, in a fury of wrath and need and lust. she could almost taste his surrender, upon her lips. taste the heat of his blood, moving across her tongue like a thousand damnations, whispered by violent gods. she imagines how she'd love to hear his blood, singing. cooing, against her lips, in the haunting need of unadulterated ecstasy and vicious want. how near they were. how close they were. mere breath away. a kiss apart. she, breathes calmly by his side for all their cold, tense-filled embrace; yet her heart pounds with all the hunger of a wolf. all the ruination of a predator. even the nearness of him captivates her lupine senses. holding, her iron heart in a choking fist of wicked desires. even the closeness of him pulses, violently, throughout her body in hot, wild waves of unbridled desire - a desire to see him, covered, in oceans of blood.
into their caress, she leans. she presses the way a lover might. she leans into him, so that she may feel the muscles along his lithe body, and savour the intoxicating wine of his sensual warmth. she could almost taste his skin upon the sleek edge, of her viperous tongue; enveloping, her fangs in a fine mist of deep, deep red. she could almost taste the misty spray that would coat her pale, slender throat and drip across her jaws, and breastbone; all that decadent, visceral red - running, down in thick rivulets of hot, tantalizing warmth. she could almost taste him. taste him. she purrs in the moment of their revelation. the sensation of predator against prey. of wolf and lamb. and yet when he speaks, he pulls her from her violence, with the sweetness of his song. he draws her in, with the gentleness of his voice. his words lace against her skin with silk and dare and promise. whiskey, serene; a siren lull of their own; calm, masculine, oozing of exquisite tenderness. she has never known such tenderness in a man - only violence, only war, only wrath - and perhaps that is why she finds him so captivating. he is everything she has never known in her life.
with a ravenous, predatory stare, she fixes him down. she watches the effervescent moonlight as its sweet, silver glimmer trails the boyish curve of his soft, dark lips. the silversong that drifts like wild ecstasy across the seas, reflects off the ocean's bottom-floor. it is their fervent seaside breeze, and shifting waves of light, that smothers his bottom lip and tugs for the beauty of his soul. his flesh. his heart. she finds herself enamored by the gentleness of his sweet, almost innocent nature. fore she has never known such innocence; not even in herself - not even as a child. she watches him as a paramour might watch a rose come, undone. unfolding, slowly; beautifully - each petal, accentuated by spring rain and wild, immortal kisses.
laced, in sensuous poison, her whisper ghosts across his cheekbone, with taunting inundation; finding, the delicate curve of his ear, even as he straightens upright with newfound courage. her voice, breathes along him in a sinister caress. drifts their violent nectar against him, in the midnight darkness. her voice begs to catch against his skin; to touch him in its sirenic caress and coat him with lust. her voice, aches, to pry apart the soul from the gentle cradle of his limbs; to drape his lungs in a sea of deadly, saccharine honey. how her azure drips, against him in a sensuous curtain of smooth, gilded ribbons. in whispy, undulating threads of thin, gossamery smoke. the threads of blue, floats eeriely between them; like dancing serpents, locked in an eternal intimacy of tongues, and scales. as always, there is that hunger in her voice. that fire in her song. she is delicious. in the way she moves. in the way she speaks. in the way her curves, runs across him; with thrill and wickedness, and a soft, bewitching sort of violence; as though she intends to taunt his youthful naivety, with the fiery wrath of her sweet laugh. to make him run wild with the beauty of her sins. feed you to my wolves.
young. handsome. perhaps, naive -
sweet enough to,
kiss."
o, but she would take more than just a kiss.
she sighs with tenderness. she sighs with longing. and when he finally turns away to gaze at the rolling tides of water, she moves away in turn, sliding past him in a hush of voluptous azure. the spell is broken, as the ocean draws its final breath across the beach. the ocean has come to reclaim their prince; the prince of the sea. apart of her wants to stay. to see where the night might take them; if the sunrise would be as red as his blood. as red as their flesh.
For a breathless moment she pauses, eyes locking upon his. her aerial feathers of cerulean blue, still clinging to the last of his flesh; till they wither, and curl, falling away in a silent hiss of emptiness. returning, to embrace their volatile mistress in a haunting serenade of passion and laughing wickedry.
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright
so much tension. let's wrap this up my dear?
