"I believe I deserved to be filled the same way I pour."
A mystic pain — her loving guile,
With scarlet scorning of cruel lips,
The pearly danger of her smile—
Evil.
Even in her voluptuous wiles
A girlish bosom’s waving swell,
She lured not a lover, but a prey!

My long battle has made me slow and unsteady, and my muscles tire easily. Lungs. They feel shallow.
But I keep my blade up, in guard.
"Lay one hand on me, and it will be your last."
My voice fails me on the last word, turning hoarse, like metal under heat.
I might have noticed his caress migrating to my temple. The rough grip of his hands through streaks of dirt mingling with silver hair. He took a strand of my hair behind his fingers, then lifted my chin, turning my cheek.
Those glinting dark eyes examined the swath of ivory skin as it encroached upon the light. My fingers strain against the muscles of his forearm, and my skin beads with sweat. The tangle in my throat released just enough for me to choke out.
Then through the haze, I certainly did feel the pain across my cheek, splitting me in two. My throat released a gasp, a whimper. When I saw it, a lump formed.
I watched that part of him with my heart lingering at the base of my throat. Too big. Excitement and elation bubbled up inside me. And for a moment, I was lost in it. The sight of it made him the perfect mate.

"I really thought you knew. "
The princess does not hesitate, but comes nearer and puts her hips about his thigh; then presses again.
"...That you would become my toy. " She says suppressing a smile.
"Have fun on the long march, in the cold."

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