BESSA : Shifting Ribs

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Exhausted by necessity and heat;

Endless hours turn to days turn to months.

Winter seems a distant threat

Sweltering under the perpetual sun.

Nature's summer weapon, burning temperatures.

Color has leached from Her world except for HIM;

Golden skin under ink holds a scarlet hue,

Greens are consumed by black,

As Her eyes greedily consume the art of HIM.


Their pup is taken away by trusted hands.

Passion overcomes hesitation in Her weakness.

Cold waters cannot quell Her heated hunger.

His sound drives all others away

As He kisses and licks Her skin.

He is temptation overwhelming Her resolve.

Their Wilds share Their growling speech.

Fur just below the surface of Their skin.

Wanton flesh tingling to be bitten and scratched.


Craving, tasting, inhaling

Need is more than want and yet the same

Consuming, trembling, indulging

Flesh colliding in the movement of constant internalcaress

Crushing, pulling, impaling

Only He can bring the pressure She needs

Caressing, deepening, increasing

The fullness of Her sex flush with His hips

Clamping, sucking, inducing

His essence drawn out, every last drop

Culminating, quivering, eliciting

Limbs entangled reflexively,

Breaths panted desperately,

Quivering from the aftershocks,

Their beautiful agony brings collapse.



( Not so good at the smexy stuff but I tried...¯\_(ツ)_/¯... forgiveness begged... )

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An evening, a moment, a subtle change...

An evening, a moment, a subtle change

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"I can still breathe." 

The Savage demands, "SHIFT."

Being the mother wolf changes things

For Bessa from across the sea.

The WILD runs with Him, adoring Her Male.

The WILD threatens the mountain between Her and Her pup,

His hand restrains the WILD's  zeal against His brother.

The mother wolf shares Her milk and nurses Their Pup.

The WILD protects Their pup from the Lover of Crow,

The apostate healer She wants to see burned.

The WILD's arsenal of war bared at all who pass,

Her rumbling speech warning them away.

Finding Her flesh again, having skin over fur brings fatigue.

He lays holding her, full of happiness,

Joy seeping from the Savages chest to Hers.

The bone cage doesn't close in as tightly

She can still breath as Her withered organ beats,

After wishing good night to Her Savage.

Impressions from Across the Sea and Sand : BESSA & ELSKA by Rachelle MillsOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora