S .

@shinoiki                     Death— * there’s a warning in his voice , smoldering embers of yellow and hellfire staring the other down as the little witches body responded to each cut , shuddering and moving against his will . Black dots danced at the edges of his vision the longer his blood flowed, air slightly restricted due to the hand that held his slender throat . He was in heaven . His own gaze reflected hazy confusion and deeply hidden lust as pale hands ending in sharp black painted nails push unsuccessfully at the riders chest even as he felt himself stiffen , becoming hard from everything that was happening * death.. * it sounds more like a plea now , hands barely able to push at him, too weak from blood loss yet their eye contact is never broken even as words from a dead dialect leave black lips filling the spell caster with life again , healing the cuts with a relieved sigh but leaving the scars as he panted sweat beading from his brow * death .. don’t you have a boyfriend ? Why are you intentionally riling me up ? And stop calling me honey.. 

@occultisms  ╱
            
            I'll move when we are done. Currently we are doing something no? Besides you look like you are enjoying this more then I am.    * nail found his pulse dragging along feeling how it quickened, fingers wrapping against his throat tight yet firm a way to keep the witch in place.  His eyes held plenty of emotions one of the lust that showed in his sadistic nature, the dagger cutting into the now red shirt only to create more deep cuts into flesh each worse then the next one he made.  Careful with each one avoiding major arteries that could bleed out more then the witch would be able to handle, they were precise yet beautiful with each cut. His leg with between his thighs something he could sit on in case he passed out from blood loss. As he went on he made more the ten crash cuts into the poor body of the witch, a smile clearly on his face almost innocent  *    how was that honey?  Want more? 

@shinoiki                * he knows that he’s behind him , back arched forward as the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight alerting him to the cold breath washing over his heated skin before he offered a sweet little whimper , eyes locked onto his blood in a sort of trance even as he continues to wash dishes only to drop the plate he was busy with hearing it shatter when his back bowed a yelp not far from his lips as smoldering hues watch the scene playing out from the reflection in the glass in front of the pair . It was enough to make him push back against the horseman and grind , lovely little hips slowly moving as their owner moaned and whimpered, never giving the other male the satisfaction of being loud . By now his mouth is bleeding , eyes hazy and silently begging as his aching body brushed against the object of his momentary lust only to roll into the back of his head as dark rivulets stain the pretty , filmy shirt he wore, white turning crimson in seconds , the draped fabric sticking to his skin, his pulse line moving rapidly within his throat as he swallowed the sweet tasting blood meeting the others eyes with weak defiance voice trembling like his turned on body * please move , I need a towel to dry these dishes .