Re: [Carnival - Adult]
She knew he was close. She could feel it on her skin, and she didn't question. She could feel when the space between them grew wider, and she could tell when it drew closed, and she knew. It was a connection she didn't understand, and her precognition failed her in his presence. Everything failed her when he was close enough for her to smell the musk upon his skin, and she felt alive, a woman, alive, during those moments. She didn't feel like a mad bird that sang songs of warning on a forum ignored, non, and she didn't feel mad at all. He made her sane, or maybe he sucked everything that was madness from her, like marrow from her bones.
She didn't know, and she didn't care, and she let fabric fall and chill kiss her skin. She was his supplicant. In those woods, he was her God, and it thrilled her when he said she made him want to live. "Oui. You do the same to me, and I never want to live. I'm empty. I'm nothing, and you don't make me feel that. You make me want to do something different, to be more," she said, and the words poured like sins at the feet of a sinner.
He crossed close, and she memorized the snap of twigs and the crunch of leaves beneath his feet. Close, close, and she watched his fingers touch her skin. Cold, oui, her body was cold, but she tipped her head up, blonde ringlets catching on bark as he spoke and touched her elbow and higher. "I'm cold, but you can warm me," she told him, and she pressed lush against him when he kissed her, soft and curved, and her mouth against his in surrender. She kissed unhurried, like a dark lullaby, and she licked into his mouth and took, took, took. "Would you come to my bed?"