When you look into an abyss, the abyss looks into you

"Come on." He snarls just before their lips meet. On contact the both release an animalistic growl of wanting. Regan swallows the sound of his need and it feeds her own. A massive hand slides into her hair and grips close to the roots. It's possessive, this grip he has on her. He uses it to urge her nearer, deeper, as if she could sink inside his skin if only she could get close enough. Her teeth sink almost savagely into his bottom lip before her tongue laves the wound. The taste of him and his blood is a heady and intoxicating cocktail. His tongue thrusts inside her mouth with all the force of an invasion. For surely that is what her viking is doing. His desire to possess her is almost a living thing. She can feel it in the hold he has of her head. In the way his tongue caresses the inside of her mouth. The way he grabs her bottom and hauls her up and across his chest.

Regan moans her desire into his mouth. Her tongue engaged in battle with his own. For this is what happens when both parties enjoy being in control. When dominating someone else gets you off. Which is why each moment of surrender between the two of them is all the sweeter. All the more addicting. Together they fuse to become a drug that overwhelms the senses. For surely no one sane has ever wanted someone with this degree of intensity.

He rises and Regan follows him up. Her legs wrapping around his waist and locking around his sides. Chest to chest, his chest-hair abraids and sensitizes her nipples. The twitch of his muscles is felt much lower on Regan. She enjoys his pain and the lengths he will go to while enduring it. Her nails rake down the firm contours of his back while he adjusts his possessive grip from head and ass to her tiny waist. His hands are so large they nearly encircle her. His calloused palms skim her rib-cage eliciting a delicious shiver from Regan. The contrast between them is a benediction. For who would have thought that Regan would enjoy the feel of this large behemoth. But enjoy she does. It is quite the power to make the strong feel weak. A gift they both seem to possess in equal measure.

Her viking pulls away from her lips and they both snarl. Her for losing the drugging taste of him. And he, well, it seems he had other areas he wanted to taste. A soft kiss against her cheek. Hot kisses trailing the length of her jaw. Lips, teeth and tongue meet her neck and Regan tightens. Everything. Her nails draw blood from his shoulders where she grips him and a bittersweet groan whispers against his mind. The hot suction of his mouth -- the rhythmic pull and release creating an echo of a heartbeat inside her neck. Her pulse pounds, her breaths coming in silent wanting gasps. The girl can feel him marking her skin by bursting the blood vessels beneath his lips. A temporary mark of claiming. For there is no other way to describe it. She feels him scent her skin and gets a sick satisfaction when he growls. He must have noticed that she had washed his scent from her skin. His busy mouth travels to her collarbone and Regan fists her hands into his hair. She doesn't know if she wants him to stop, to drag that delicious mouth back to her own, or to let him continue with his plan.

With a sigh of surrender she relaxes her grip and tilts her head back to give her viking more room. Regan arches her back and inadvertently shifts her hips so that she slides across his pelvis and stops against his lower abdomen. Discovering that it heightens this inner ache she feels around him, she does it again. And again. Regan looks down her body at the viking feasting on her flesh. The sight of him, lost in her, consumes her with pleasure. Reaching, she fists his hair once more and drags his mouth back to hers on a groan of need. The feel of his kiss is delicious and causes Regan to rock against him one more time. A lust filled "Mmmm" sliding into his mind.




"Thinks like this"