Private Tales Feral Animals

[Yavanna]

Warm fingertips curling, nails biting into skin. Hot breath tickling the ear.

The sleeping elf stirred, arching back into the warmth, pressing deeper into it. Craving, from the depths of slumber, any pleasure. Any heat. Anything but the cold and the pain.

Yavanna's head tilted as she moved and a nose brushed against her cheek. Then lips. This must be some waking dream. She turned into it, chasing the fantasy.

The softest of moans cooed from the bow of her lips into the silence of that hollow.

Sable

 

[Sable]

Her hips rolled subtly against Yavanna’s. The hollow was silent around them, broken only by ragged breaths and the faint rustle of leaves outside, while Sable remained lost in a dream that blurred desire and exhaustion into one unrelenting current.

Her hand roamed, up over ribs and breast, until it curled around the smooth curve of Yavanna’s throat. Her lips brushed the side of the elf’s neck, warm and hungry... And then her teeth sank in, not enough to break skin, but enough to mark, to anchor, to claim in the dreamy haze she didn’t yet wake from.