Dralan [On Hold]

Thirty

Leyla

As Leyla hit the pillows of the Dralan's bed, a whirlwind of thoughts exploded in her head. Thoughts that had been drugged in the presence of his being and by the touch of his dominant lips against her own frail.

The Dralan had kissed her. Was kissing her. Leyla was in shock, yet dwelled somewhere completely different in her mind, a place between lust, need and what was right and wrong. A part of her wanted to neglect the right thing to do, just so that the wrong would for once touch her body and she could experience how it felt.

- She didn't want to miss out on that.

Every fiber in her body was on fire when the Dralan climbed on top of her and his lips found the column of her neck. She felt them latch onto that poor vein of hers that throbbed so needy for his bite, his assaults. But all he did was kiss it - suck the skin that protected it. Instead of feeding on her blood, he fed on her scent and flavor, a thing that - if going by the low, hungry rumble she heard coming from his chest - was just as satisfying to him as her blood.

Leyla gripped onto the silk sheets and involuntarily arched her neck up to him, releasing a small moan as she did. It felt so good. The Dralan purred at her submissive gesture and rewarded her with a shudder-worthy lick of his evil tongue. It teased her and had her body betraying her mind as it called out to him in earnest.

Leyla was grasping for her breath, grasping for her body to cooperate with her brain, but it didn't. The Dralan's sweet, hungry and dominant assaults on her was making her lose all control of herself, her inner submissive coming out. It wasn't her fault. It was in the female nature; their bodies were created to respond to the males, to sate their needs, just as the males were to theirs.

But in her head, Leyla needed more than just that. She had always thought she would only go this far with a male whom had mated her heart, just as she had his. But here she was, her body telling her mind to betray her and to take what she wanted and not feel guilty about it. After all, who had she been pining for all these weeks?

The Dralan was kissing his way down her throat, never going faster than what Leyla could keep up with. Her body was writhing beneath his large one, the one which rubbed sensually against hers, as if he was kneading her into a soft dough. If that was the case, his mission was accomplished; Leyla was practically putty beneath him, clinging onto the bedsheets while she felt the traces of his lips traveling down to her protruding collarbones.

As he purred softly against her, Leyla let out a tiny moan, one which she tried to strangle. It made it past her lips though, and the Dralan rejoiced with a possessive growl. He pressed himself further against her, letting Leyla feel what she was doing to him.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let out another strangled sound as she felt his hard member jut against her thigh. She shivered and tried to suck in a breath - a breath the Dralan stole from her when his lips found her cleavage. They suckled on the canyon between her heaving breasts, the ones that she never knew could feel so heavy and needy.

This was wrong, her sanity fought. Just because he had taken her status as a Mihr (a loss which pain seemed to decrease for every second his lips was against her), it didn't mean they should explore the perks that came with her new title right this second. So many things were still in chaos - their situation was still the most complicated, and Leyla knew that them taking things further would only make it worse. The bond between them she thought he had been cutting, was in fact very much intact, and now growing impossibly stronger with each prowling kiss the Dralan placed on her body. Leyla had to stop it before the bond became unbreakable.