othellovonryan | Sin Dreams

[He gives an affirmative chirp. She is definitely overdressed. Silly mate with her silly games and silly clothes. Pretty birds definitely has some slider tendencies, but that's all right. He can play with silly. Especially when she makes sweet sounds like that for him. Like a coo and a churr and it gets a pleased trill from him. He likes the noise.]

[He tugs down her tights, some effort to not tear her clothes as he nips and nuzzles her neck. Teeth lightly scraping over the skin in a teasing, shivering at the touch.]

[Then hands on his shell.]

[A brief burst of static]

[But no. No. The hands are firm, slow, not squirming and reaching. Not a threat, just his pretty mate and he takes a shuddering breath against her neck, shifting to press his shell against her hands. Trilling, a low rumbly churr because it does feel nice to be touched and he wants]

[He wants her too.]

[Mate]

[And his mouth opens wide as he properly bites the nape of her neck, tugging at her tights with far less care. He wants and if tights get torn in his eagerness then he will hope his mate will forgive it.]

[ He isn't stopping her. ]

[ She's touching his shell, and he isn't stopping her. ]

[ He could. She knows that for an absolute certainty. Donnie is nothing if not firm in his boundaries, always has been, and being … maybe a little feral right now … does not mean he'd hesitate to assert himself if she crossed a line. She chirps back to him, soft, encouraging, a little playful. Yours. Mate. Not a threat. ]

[ She remembers what happened to him. She remembers his reaction when she offered a massage. No light, squirmy touches; no digging in, no reaching. She keeps up that same firm, even pressure as she takes her time to explore, slowly working her way down, down, down. Low enough to steal a curious brush against his tail with one hand just as — ]

[ He bites ]

[ And for an endless handful of seconds, everything goes to static, electric and completely overwhelming. It's dangerous and thrilling and safe and it's Donnie, it's Donnie, it's Donnie. The static steadies, settles into a heated blanket of brrr as her brain tries to reboot, and she — she just —

She melts under him, churring lower and louder as liquid heat floods through her, leaves her throbbing, wanting. Fabric tears — there go her tights, one less barrier against her scent — but she can't bring herself to care all that much. Her hips buck just a little, with instinct keeping her from moving too much. Trust. Not fear. Trust.

He doesn't want to hurt her. He won't hurt her.

… Instinct does not, however, stop her from boldly grabbing his ass, or from trying to tug him down against her, her blunt human fingernails pricking against his scales. ]

[The chirps help. They chirps coil around him, safe his mate, his, wouldn't hurt him. She was safe to touch his shell, calming the hints of static. He was safe. He wanted her close.]

[Especially when she touches his tail, just that hint of desperation for closeness that makes it impossible to not bite, to not mark his pretty mate, teeth in her neck, still and careful. Enough to leave that wonderful indentation of teeth, but careful enough to not really hurt her.]

[A churr of satisfaction as he feels her tension turn to submission, as she goes boneless under him and her scent is so much stronger in the air. Feels her squirm, but not enough to worry.]

[A satisfied trill as he releases her neck, licking away the blood from the wound as he feels over her hips.]

[Then she's eagerly grabbing at her, a hitch of his own breath at the grab, as he's pulled against her heat, as painpleasure sparks over his nerves and he churrs excitedly, hips jerking forward, grinding his slit against hers. Shivering at the sensation as he moves against her, skin to skin as he licks and sucks over his mark.]

[But...he has to check. He has to check, that is an important step.]

[He pushes back, pressing her to the ground with a few soft chirps. Mate mine need. Before he pulls his hips back with a whine, moving down her body instead, hands tracing over her thighs as he aims to settle between them.]

[ Korone is so boneless, reeling from the bite, the way he licks and sucks over the mark — layer upon layer of pleasurepainpleasure that makes her shiver and whine from sensitivity — and from his eagerness. Skin against skin and oh, oh fuck, oh that's so much. Her brain feels scrambled and her blood is molten and there's nothing but approval in her breathy whimpers and moans as they move together. ]

[ Right up until he rudely pulls away. He's still close, still chirping, but, but, but where does he think he's going

She makes a clumsy grab for his hands, his arms, whatever she can reach, tugging light but insistent. ]

Don — Donnie, get back here -

[There are a few brief moments of delay as she tugs at him, before he realizes she is trying to pull him closer, not pushing him away. He trills in amusement, catching one of her hands. He nibbles lightly over her pulse at her wrist, looking at her with a lidded gaze, slitted pupils adding an intensity to his gaze.]

[His other hand moves between her legs, tracing along her inner thigh before pushing to spread her legs more as he ducks down more, kissing her inner thigh.]

[ He'll have the pleasure of watching her blue eyes darken with want at the nibble. Of feeling, hearing, her pulse jump under the gentle press of his teeth.

God, though. The way he looks at her. She swallows, wetting her lips, too caught up in watching him to remember that she'd been trying to do something just now.

His next move renders it moot, anyway. ]

Wh -

[ Oh. Oh. ]

[ That's where he's going. ]

Oh my — w-wait, wait wait wait- [ She fumbles to sit up, propping herself on what feels more like a wet noodle than an actual functional arm. The thought of having him between her legs like that is electrifying, makes her shiver and squirm — and again, with a whimper, when she feels herself throb inside, a pulse of want and a trickle of wetness.

But it's also incredibly embarrassing ]

Y-You really don't have to-! [ Her legs shift, trying to close. Not that they can, with him nestled between them. ]

[His own eyes darken, a churr rumbling in his throat. He can smell her interest. Even with her flustered words that don't sound near enough like a protest to give much mind. She could kick and hit him 8f she wanted, but instead her scent is stronger, pulse thrumming under his thumb.]

[He rubs a slow circle at her wrist, his other hand running up along her inner thigh, down to her knee, and then up high, not quite touching her heat, but just barely.]

[Really, he is here to check. That is the important part, but if his pretty mate reacts like this, then he should do more. She was different, and he wanted to accommodate.]

[But first]

[He meets her eyes as he bites down hard on her inner thigh, high up, where her legs were surely to rub against each other. A place where she could constantly be reminded of his mark when she walks. There is a needy trill as he bites and sucks hard to leave a dark mark, drawing just a bit of blood.]

[ Hand. Hand, hands. A thumb rubbing circles against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, and it might be soothing if it wasn't a little maddening. The other skimming along her inner thigh, down and then back up, close, so close, to her aching centre.

Her breath catches on a strangled, needy little sound, cutting off her protests. She can't look away. Can't move, frozen, trembling, flaily embarrassment at war with growing desperation for his touch. ]

D-Don-nie! [ From a flustered squeak to a loud cry as he bites down, teeth digging in, sucking hard, and oh fuck that's going to leave a hell of a mark, she's going to be feeling it for days, fuck it feels good, the mingled pain and pleasure short-circuiting something in her brain. There's a full body jolt, wings flapping once, twice; even her hips jerk a little, pressing up into the bite.

She shoves her free hand over her mouth, biting at her knuckles to stifle the noises trying to spill out of her, and topples gracelessly back to the ground. ]

[Donnie grins as he sees his pretty mate falls apart, stops trying to tug him away. She presses closer and he sucks harder on that spot. Makes sure that it'll last as his hand rubs circles on her inner thigh.]

[A few moments after she topples back, he releases her leg, licking over the bite mark to help soothe the pain. Nuzzling over her thigh as his hands press her legs a bit further apart before hooking under her legs.]

[Then he moves up, to her heat, the scent strong and heady, and there isn't teasing, not when he needs to be sure about his mate. Not that he would leave her, not when she's so pretty, but it's best to temper expectations when it comes to eggs.]

[But he needs to check, opening his mouth and licking a strip over her slit, once, twice, three times before he pushes in, tongue wanting, needing to explore.]

[ She's no stranger to Donnie's bites by now. The sharp sting of fangs breaking skin, and the ache as he presses into it, holds it, long and hard enough to make a point without risking any permanent damage. The dizzying rush of pleasure that threatens to drown her; that turns her blood molten. It never fails to leave her buzzing. ]

[ Now is no different. ]

[ Except it feels like so much more with him between her legs, his mouth on her inner thigh, so close, so close, so close, and after all of the attention he's been paying to her neck — ]

[ She tries to keep quiet. Tries to keep still, quivering, almost holding her breath. Slumps back with a ragged whine as he releases her, and doesn't even — can't even — think to protest when he nudges her legs further apart. Too dazed. Too lost in the fuzz. ]

[ And then — ]

[ Tongue. Licking. Firm and soft all at once, long, wet stripes, once twice three times, no easing into it no teasing just - oh, oh fuck, oh fuck.

That's -

Oh.

Her back arches, hips pressing down except for the tiny, tremulous jolt up every time his tongue passes over her throbbing clit. ]

F-Fuck, oh, oh my god, Donnie, you — [ His tongue presses in and oh, oh god, oh god, there go her words, lost in an honestly kind of hilarious cry that might've been a squeak, a yelp, and a moan all at once. Her wings flap, slapping against the grass, and she grabs for one of his shoulders, her legs flailing just a little — she doesn't kick at him, but there sure are some kickies going on ]

Sin Dreams

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