| lymnFralley | Дата: Четверг, 22.08.2013, 00:38 | Сообщение # 1 |
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It made her look very young.The sleeve of her white shirt was soaked in blood, and a red patch on her temple and eye would probably soon prove itself a bruise.She was breathing so hard and shallowly it worried him.I didn't have time to do anything.I guess I threw up my hand when I turned, but he was there already.
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I saw him come in.He realized he had one hand on her shoulder and another on her stomach.He felt her belly quiver, and something happened to her eyes.Her skin felt almost molten.She gasped when their lips came together, as if trying to get the air from his lungs.
He smelled something like burning cloves and felt a shock of energy race through him like nothing he had ever known before, filling the emptiness left in him from two hard fights with impossible strength.She buried her face in his neck and he in hers, and they went down on the rug in a tangle, both wrestling furiously at ties and buttons.Slick with blood, the salt from their sweat burned his wounds, but not enough to matter.Later, much later it seemed, he lay back while she cleaned his wounds, first with warm water and then with a white ointment that left a pleasant warmth behind it and smelled a little like mustard.It did more than feel good; he could see the flesh draw together almost as if stitched.
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They had moved to her bedroom, where she had laid out a thick cover over her sheets and let him rest stretched out.She sat on the edge of the bed, the skin of her throat and breast like pearl in the moonlight — except for where the streaks of dried blood still clung.He thought she seemed embarrassed.I have to be strong enough to keep them from turning on me.Daedra are — violent, passionate.
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