His bare skin, so dark in the sun, glowed bronze in the moonlight. The tendrils of his black hair curled along his temples, damp with sweat. The muscles drawn taut over his back glistened with crimson smudges. My hands, still wet with my brother's blood, clutched him to me. Nails digging into his flesh, marking him as he is claiming me.
"Harder. Faster," I begged wordlessly. My knees shook. My stomach fluttered. My toes curled. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched. I watched his pulse beat in the cords of his neck.
He was mine. I was his. Forever.
YOU ARE READING
Erato's Musings
RomanceI know your time is precious, especially your free time. Why not spend it jump-starting your libido? 100-word (exactly) erotic drabbles from Greek and Roman mythology (some historical "fiction" as well). Some are very sexually explicit. Adults ONLY...
