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[rakta]

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LAURALAE

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[rakta]

[ It burns with pleasure inside her, to be called his, to belong to someone, to be claimed, even if it is only so gently and wish soft words. It sings to the primal, feral side of her that is more wolf than girl, less human than she might have been a century ago, but she does not fear it. She does not feel as if it is a bad thing, to be so herself with Aemond, to let him kiss her and kiss her and know her for what she is and could become.

Another kiss, and another, their mouths press together, and she seeks out more of it. He tastes pleasant, he tastes perfect, and she has a pained urge to sink her fangs into his lip and devour him, to leave her mark on him so that others might see. Painful and possessive, she has to force herself back, to breathe in gently before her eyes flicker up to look upon him once more.

Her dragon, her husband, the man she had formed such an attachment to she had begged Alia for advice, for some knowledge of how best to earn his favour, to have his eye turn to her. The success in that astounds her.

Breathless, she nods her head, their noses brushing. ]

I can ask the pups to give us a little time. [ Another kiss stolen, as swift as the fluttering of eyelashes. ] And create a warm space for us.