Date: 2009-05-11 04:49 am (UTC)
hell_in_highheels: (tangled up together)
She's not as far gone as she'd like to be, and she knows, feels his body language shift, change. The bites at her throat combined with his whine make her moan, shuddering with a depth of emotion she can't quite grasp.

And then he drops his mouth to her neck and her arms tighten around him, holding tight. The first bite hurts, but there is still a rich pleasure in the pain. The second bite, she is gasping at the sharpness of his teeth.

She feels her flesh slice beneath his incisors, feels the nerve endings scream, and she lets slip the smallest whimper. Her grip on him is so strong, her own nails bite into his skin.

Her scent is surprise and pain and relief and surrender and love, through it all, never waivering, love.
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River Song

November 2009

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