#lyser

      FIRE AND ICE FOUGHT A FIERCE BATTLE BETWEEN THEM. he could almost feel the ice lurking under her flesh when his fingertips gripped hard against the thin, silk sheet of skin of her waist. she was LIGHT, easy to hold in his arms as he lifted her up higher against him, setting her on his lap with ease. limbs entangled, lysander tried not to focus on the brutal grip of her fingers around his shoulders, or the way she wrapped around his hard flesh                 he dallied with the line between righteousness and INSANITY, finding this craving he felt for her fiercer than any ideal. perhaps he wouldn’t have tipped over that line, if her moaned plea hadn’t wisped over his lips: please.

     I NEED YOU. MAYBE NOT AS MUCH AS HE NEEDED HER. but definitely more than he needed air to breathe. his hands take their time to explore the sharp arch of her back, curving along the side of her hips as they swayed in rhythm with his. he could taste the bitterness of corruption on his tongue as she tugged on his bottom lip                it was familiar to him; like home, he found himself thinking. jolts of lightning surged over every inch of his skin, as he lifted his gaze lower to the SHARPNESS of her collar bones, down to the swell of her breasts. ‘  beautiful. ’ the word slipped past his lips in a hushed whisper, before his hand trailed higher.

     HE CURLED HIS FINGERS AROUND HER SLIM NECK. arm wrapped around her waist, lysander ground his hips forwards and backwards, letting his tongue taste the hint of passionfruit on her lips. he sat up higher, pressing his stomach to her chest as he held her harder against him. ‘ lysa     ’ his voice was coarse as he breathed her name, fighting back a fire that burned almost PAINFULLY in his stomach. he wanted to chant her name, bury himself in her until the end of everything               the thought carried him to a place of elation, a kind of high immeasurable to that of dittany. his grip around her neck tightened slightly, as he let his teeth fit around her bottom lip for a single taste.

                    if this was HELL, he might have a TASTE for it.                              and fuck, did he have a taste for HER. ‘ fuck me. ’