[He's told himself he's going to be gentle with her. She's been through so much and she's still shaken inside. As tough as she is he knows there are parts inside her that have been turned into glass. She'll heal, she'll grow stronger but he's her protector as much as her lover and there is nothing in him that would ever want to harm her because he wasn't thinking of her first, putting her first. He's been afraid to touch her too strongly, adverse to the idea of damaging what was only just healing to the point of complete aversion.
But the storm is in his blood and his bones are hollow with barren ice wind and thunder rolls through his muscles. And she's clinging to him, mouth pleading under his. There's still no aggression in him, no demand, but his head tips and his mouth slants hot and wet over hers, human fingers slipping back to knot in the slick hair at the back of her head, tongue dragging across the seam of her lips and the thunder rolls to match the rumble of sound in his chest.]
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But the storm is in his blood and his bones are hollow with barren ice wind and thunder rolls through his muscles. And she's clinging to him, mouth pleading under his. There's still no aggression in him, no demand, but his head tips and his mouth slants hot and wet over hers, human fingers slipping back to knot in the slick hair at the back of her head, tongue dragging across the seam of her lips and the thunder rolls to match the rumble of sound in his chest.]