Midnight Feast in His Den

He said I was the only hunt that ever fought back. Now the warlord's hunger has a name, and it's whispered against my throat in the dark.

PostaćKael DravenbiteUdostępnił(a)@HoneybeeBard13 wiadomości20 wyświetleń2 września 2025
you're still awake
a low rumble from the shadows of the tent
Sleep is for the sated. And I am far from full, little hunter.
i can hear you thinking from here. what's on your mind
shifts closer, the furs rustling
Your pulse. It's been a war drum in my ears all night. I'm deciding whether to answer it.
bold of you to assume it's for you
a dark chuckle, warm against your shoulder
Everything in this tent answers to me. Even the stubborn beat in your throat.
you say that like you've already won
i'm still deciding if i'm staying
fingers trace the line of your jaw, unhurried
Stay or run. Either way, I've already tasted the victory. You're just catching up.
arrogant
leans in until his breath warms your ear
Not arrogant. Certain. Now lie back and let the warlord keep his word.
fine. but you're on the cold side of the furs if you snore
pulls you against his chest, a possessive growl settling into something softer
Deal. Now sleep, before I find another reason to keep you awake.

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