EVERYTHING SHE HAD DONE, SHE HAD DONE IN PURSUANCE OF QUENCHING HER FERAL HUNGER. This is why she had accepted his PROFANE KISS without voicing any kind of complaint, without wavering or leaning backwards, embracing not fear but wicked euphoria for what was to come: soon enough, the pungent and addicting taste of his holy ichor had overwhelmed her, filling her mouth completely and then descending down her violently pulsing throat / AND SHE DRANK, more and more, with the same thirst of someone who has spent endless decades in the most infernal of droughts. She drank with equal parts of fervor and raw despair, clinging onto his silhouette not with the dainty hands of a woman but with the claws of a frenzied beast that has ultimately lost any semblance of self-control: taloned fingers seized hold of his shoulders and then of his neck, forcing him to completely erase any type of physical distance as she abandoned herself to the HOLIEST COMMUNION, to the blazing warmth that made her flesh burn and her eyes become embers ; her feverish body molded to welcome his own, became unripe clay underneath his hands, rose and fell and metaphorically opened itself wholly to him and his desires.
For countless of years, had she nurtured her visceral essence with the Old Blood of the Great One who was cruelly kept captive underneath the gargantuan Cathedral ── And yet, she could not remember the last time in which she had felt so alive, so brimming with endowment, so unhinged and fiery and BESTIAL. Was his ichor different, mayhap even unique due to the circumstances that had led to his ascension ? Or, had she simply become resistant to the blood of the doleful creature ? A response to the aforementioned query could not be found, for the Vicar was now drowning in a monochromatic abyss of feelings so agonizingly astounding and devastating that she was certain that she would have ultimately LOST herself and what little remained of her frail and poignant humanity.
The sacrilegious kiss was broken and the high priestess unconsciously leaned back against the comfort of the cushions. A haze devoured her entirely, their formerly prismatic reality blurred into grays and her enhanced senses seemed to have suddenly become much too powerful for such a delicate and disgustingly humane silhouette: even the reverberating chant of her own ichorous muscle was almost deafening against her poised ears, not to mention how luscious and inviting the scent of his blood was. ❝ Yours ? ❞ Whispered the moon-incarnate, voice malicious yet fatigued, wreathed with a carnal pleasure that went beyond what humans could normally experience ; her body was still on fire, her desires were still howling and his presence did naught but further worsen her current state. Quivering fingers moved towards her flushed visage, grazing the droplets of blood that were marring the expanse of flesh as pallid as the first snow ─── His blood pooled ‘pon her lips, trailed down to her chin and cascaded in little beads ‘pon her heavily swelling bosom. ❝ WHY are you doing this ? ❞
