I lean over her to lick the thick blood that shines on her skin with a crimson sheen. To taste her, bathed in rubies, when her eyes close and her lips let out a delightful sound. So deep. So dangerous. Her shivering body is like the sweetest torment, coming to offer me sharp edges.
Blood pools in my mouth, I feel it in my throat, overwhelming. Life and death, thickly braided together.
Her fingers run over my back, talons on my skin, which I would love to feel deeper.
She will feel mine very deeply.
I want to drown in her flavors. Sink into blood that binds us. Drink mortality to the last drop.
I want to make her scream.
My fingers run over her skin. The rivulets drip from her belly and trickle between her legs. I feel my desire growing as thick as the blood I have spilled upon her. I feel the sweet pressure, so tight, almost painful. She opens her eyes and I see death in them. Delicious death. I want to tear it from her, death and pleasure together, I want to swallow and devour her, destroy her and fill my loins with her overflowing power.
My shadows eat her hungrily from the inside and I feel her pleasure, a violent waterfall. I dip into the blood again and draw her closer, filling her mouth, her lips closing over me and tasting.
My aura slowly intertwines with hers, I feel her pull, a light, gossamer thread clinging to my darkness.
I have her spread out before me, all crimson, all dripping.
My undoing. And my victory.
Everything falls into perfect silence, into mute stillness. The world takes a breath, holds the air in its winter lungs, while the drums beat slowly in my veins. I feel her nerves tremble, I feel it in my sinews and bones, spread wide by our struggling auras.
I want to bring her a small death. A blind collapse into the all-consuming white.
Slowly she releases me from her mouth, licking her lips in a way only she is able to achieve.
She wants me to own her. She pulls me between her legs, open and inviting. Glistening with streams of blood. Her spell strong and intoxicating, her thoughts dark and seductive.
And I will.
Oh, I will own my cruel raven.