Diana was growling; harsh and grating; fingers bruising against her rival-come-lover’s hips, dragging Leona closer; close enough that the heat was almost unbearable. Sweat slicked her back like an umbrella in the rain. Leona’s heat was always unbearable, burning its radiance and perfection. It made her sick, all of it. The fanfares, the worship, the cries of reverence. Her eyes flashed, silver and possessive; blunt nails bruising the tanned flesh. She didn’t care about that. Leona, the Chosen. She didn’t care. When had she ever cared?
“Why?” Diana whispered, digging tighter. The question was unanswerable, unimportant and still, the word slipped from her lips without expecting a satisfactory answer and they kept slipping. “Why did you leave me?” It kept following her like a writhing shadow; the possession, the questions. Nothing Leona said would suffice. She looked at the woman beneath her; a lion’s mane mussed beneath the apologetic face, her brows creased in concern. Not for herself, but for the Lunari. Diana’s lips curled into a quiet snarl. A hand came up to bury itself in Leona’s hair and tugged, hard.
It was all Leona could do to hold on desperately, her own hands circling around Diana’s neck without thought. She never liked when Diana got rough, but the adrenaline running through her veins was like an aphrodisiac. Leona knew that this wasn’t an apology or a touching, passionate night in which they sorted their troubles and woes out. No, of course not.
Diana sought her out, not with malice but with confusion and blindness. And who was she to deny the truth?
Another guttural groan escaped Leona as Diana’s lips found her jugular, biting against a pulse point, surprisingly soft. She had heard Diana’s questions, but she knew better than to speak. The silver-haired siren had Leona completely in her grasp. She wasn’t helpless and her strength never failed. It failed today, when Diana showed up, vulnerable, hateful and desperate. It should have been ugly, but Leona found it beautiful even as she was slammed against the ground without mercy.
“Why?” Diana would not be denied. The grip on those golden locks tightened and Leona had half a mind to buck the Lunari off. But she couldn’t. She was locked in a silvery void; sinking, and she’s forgotten how to swim. Placing her hands near the other woman’s elbows, she conjures the most sincere gaze she can muster in this situation.
Diana isn’t familiar with the feeling but the surge of fear blasts through her system, her bloodstream; her heart accelerates and her lungs fail for the briefest of seconds. Her eyes are wild, beautiful and unbridled. Those almost-three words had her in a panic. She knows what Leona wants to say, and she wants - needs - to stop it.
She doesn’t stop to think. Diana’s lips crashes against Leona’s, hard. It muffles the sound but suddenly, that’s the least of the Lunari’s concerns for her Solari’s groans reverberate through her. It’s wet, it’s hot, it’s perfect. Leona murmurs something, but Diana doesn’t hear it. Doesn’t want to. She’s in denial of so many things, except that Leona’s lips are perfect and her tongue, licking against her lower lip, demanding just as expected of her. Diana would have laughed but she was lost in the horizon.
(( TRIBUTE to @dianamoonfall ;) ))
