Exquisite Poison (Original Draft)

Chapter 38 - Need

Ash said nothing, watching as Netta got up from him. His gaze seemed to scorch her, to weigh her down as she began to take her clothes off.

It was only as she was pulling her shirt off that Ash spoke, his voice a husked, thick tone that was inhuman.

"You don't need to do that, I can help -"

Netta snapped at him as she reached down, got out of her snow boots, kicking them angrily.

"I want to." She wished that she could stop shaking in response to the cold - that it wouldn't make her look so vulnerable.

She wanted so very much to not look like prey any longer.

He said nothing, sitting up slightly.

When Netta paused, slipping her panties off, she looked over at him. She felt her heart threaten to beat out of her chest.

His mouth hung open, Ash's tongue almost seeming to possess a will of its own. It rolled, writhed, snake-like, dancing between the lines of his lips, thick, heavy.

Netta almost stopped there, no matter how her anger and fear mixed with the emotions that his pheromones had engendered in her.

After a pause, Netta reached behind her, un-did the clasp of her bra with practiced ease, in spite of the horrible shaking of her hands. And then she was moments from wearing nothing but socks that would be soaked in the snow.

In the cups of her bra, her nipples were rigid, hard from the cold. They were hard, also, from the desire that burned in her, blooming like the many buds of wood roses opening at the roots of an ancient tree.

As she dropped her bra, she saw him move.

He moved so quickly, crawling, that she scarcely saw the jerking, sudden movements of his limbs.

Ash reappeared with his face pressed between her thighs. He lifted one of her legs up, pressing her foot to curve against the flat plane of his back.

In a panic, until Netta attempted to struggle, only to find her waist held in place by a powerful arm.

Ash worked her thighs, then the lips there apart with forceful ease. That slavering, muscular tongue ran the opening seam of her inner lips a moment before he plunged in.

"Ash!" Netta jerked forward then back - realizing that he was set on fucking her with his tongue.

Netta's eyes flicked opened and closed, her mouth fallen open. then slamming shut to suppress groans, crying, her teeth clenching, squeezing painfully.

His tongue, with each thrust, seemed to grow, to expand. It burned her, then she felt it, pressing as far as it could go -

Her hands had become entangled in his hair at some point. She realized her hands were no longer clutching at hair - but horns.

She shuddered, daring to look down. There she saw great, horrible spiraling of horns that erupted from a bed of thick brown hair.

They were a shining, onyx black. Some of them, sharp as they were on their ends, pressed in their spiraling curves against her skin, causing indentations in her skin (so pale by contrast), and some punctured her skin.

She looked at the blood caused by the shallow wounds, not quite able to register them. It was as though they were some aspect of a dream she was having.

She could not feel the pain of them, her body feeling as though it were being enveloped in combustion, spreading up her body.

She should have been horrified by this. She should have been unable to enjoy any aspect of the writhing of the muscle lodged inside of her. She shouldn't take the kind of savage enjoyment from the feeling of the arm locked around her waist -