Pads of his fingers stilled at the hitch. Warm slick of her cunt and his cum still about the tips. Just a moment to hear the little moan that spilled out of her. Like a drink too sweet for his ears. Green eye glint. Teeth bared in breathless, hungry smile.

Keeled his head toward her touch. Rolled into the circles at his neck. Still felt the ghost her hands tight around his airway. The bite of binds about his wrist where she had been so gentle with his hurts.

His fingers played along the line of bristle and velvet. Relished in the scratch. In the slip. The push and give of soft squishy mess. Trailed slow about the hot froth of them mixed together and still spilling out between her sweat shone legs.

"Podria morir ahora mismo y seria feliz,"

Pleased and more pleased. Felt his bones, all the lighter.

He rumbled with a bass delight. Rose to meet her. Dark stormcloud gathering across gold silver sky. Purple against pale peach. Lips pressed full against hers, till their heads went bump. Necked as breath washed out and swirled as his hand ran fingers through her hair. Hot as the rain soaked air between the pauses of stormfall.

Lips parted, teeth proud, with just enough space to breath the words out. "Maldito¹ gusano muerto que soy," he whispered words soft knocks against her skin. Nudged her with rock of head, and kip of neck. Nose traced about. Hand in her hair gathering roots in measured grip. Pulled her head back to better see. "Dime como me quieres," her mouth. Her throat. How her chest heaved against him.

Fire and blood.
His own breath hollowed out.
Hunger.
At the site of her.
The messes they would make.
To get back to each other.

The other pressed his fingers careful against the raw heat of her. Trailed tender up and down about the slick lips. Felt his own heat coiling up again. Slipped the tip of middle, all gentle hook into the aching gush that still whispered to his bones.
 
Daniyah's hands tangled in his hair, gripping, twisting, soft as smoke, rough as stone. Her breath hitched when his finger slid through her, when that tender drag over raw, swollen flesh lit her fibres like lightning. She tried to swallow the moans, bit it into his shoulder instead, tasting salt and skin. Her body turned into a symphony of conflicting signals, begged for movement, and screamed for stillness.

"Dime como me quieres,"

Words pressed, asked for more, and made her heart twist that sharp, painful, yearning way. She shook her head, a weak denial. But her hips tilted, seeking more of that devastating touch as her skin felt two sizes too small. Soon enough, she was panting, small punched-out breaths. Trapped in a loop of it was too much and it wasn’t enough. A paradox made flesh.

"Más allá de todo. Estás en mi sangre..."

The fast beating heart skips a beat without notice.

“En el pulso que no se calma... En cada herida que intento cerrar...”

Rose into his touch, felt the hunger tighten through her, felt the coil and beg and pulse. Back bowing, hips lifting off the bed as if she could escape the overwhelming flood of sensation.

The giving, the giving, the endless pouring‑out of herself. "Mierda, eres insaciable!" growled it against his lips. Worm. Fiend. Storm. Hunter. The way his presence consumed her like a flame burning a moth.
 
Breath hissed through his teeth, sucked in sweet at the sink of her own bite. Set his skin to prickle. Fine hairs come to stand so the animal he was could better feel. Her rhythm. Her sound. All the little wants, and all the little hurts that course and shift through her bones, and through her soft sticky flesh.

Slowed in moments to keep the sweet press of bumps and ridges there along the pad and meat of his finger. Pointer and ring braced about drooling lips swollen fat against them. Worked back up to the pace of her breath, and roll of her hips with all the pump of his arm.

Her voice, her words, pure poetry that burned in every color of his mind which he could fathom, and all those colors still he could never name. Those things she showed him. Those things she gave.

He cooed, too glad to hear it all bleed out of her. Lips hovering just above hers. His grip eased, just to let her hairs slip. Bunched up more as he pressed his face to the side of hers. Ears too hungry to hear every slip of breath and every whine that shook off her strings.

Felt her sank there against the palm of his hand. Pooling. Dripping. Sloshed and squished so damned good it kept him grinned. Opened and hitched. His own body moving with her rhythms. His arm flexed against her, More to his bones so sunk into her. His pulse so full of hers. Skin scratched with her briar hairs. He felt and he listened and it swirled all the same at the very ends of all he was, and the beginnings of all she kept on giving.

"Soy malvado, mi amor," he let his voice roll out. Muffled against her hair. "Maldito y raro." He grinned sharp as his breath swirled about the tender little clam of her ear. Fingers still moving and feeling. Rasping and slipping. He felt wild with her sounds.

Gasping confessions mixed with pain filled wants.

It drove him on. Set his pulse higher. Well past exhaustion. Well past burning out. Nibbled on her ear. Kissed the bone behind it. "Y tu eres la unica que me puede quemar tan limpio," kissed her neck. Her lips.
 
Her hand, moving as if through deep water, slid between them. Down his chest, over the damp, heaving plane of his stomach, through the coarse hair below.

Daniyah's head fell back when he released her hair. A broken, continuous sound poured from her throat, half-sob. Climbing, climbing, the peak a blazing star just ahead. Honey, warm and slick, escaped her, coating his fingers, slippery. She was there. She was right there. Moaning his name like a mantra. Garrod, Garrod.

His hand slowed.
A broken whine of protest tore from her.

A full-body tremor wracked her when he worked up to a merciless rhythm. She was writhing, lost to everything but the building storm inside her. She was a heartbeat away. The wave was cresting. Don't stop, don't stop. Her hips twitched pathetically against his hand. “Necesito… necesito vengo. Déjame.” The words were dragged from the deepest, most surrendered part of her soul.

"Soy malvado, mi amor,"
Breath hot against his lips. “Monstruo." Her teeth grazed his jaw. "Codicioso." Caught between wanting more and wanting mercy. "Pervertido." She pressed her forehead to his shoulder.

It hit her fast, too fast for her to brace for it. She cried out. A seizing rush that locked her muscles. It ripped through her with a force that stole her sight, hearing, every sense but the overwhelming pleasure convulsing through her core. Her thighs tightened, every muscle in her abdomen pulled tight as ecstasy ran down and up her spine in pulsing weaves. It stole the strength from her arms, her fingers slipped against his skin. Her body bucked helplessly in spasms. Her silver-fire eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but she saw nothing but stars bursting. It went on and on, a release that felt less like pleasure and more like oblivion.
 
Her hand slipped down the trail of him, and he grinned the more. "Mira no mas, Brujita,"he arched his spine toward her fingers. Stiff cock's head all slimy toadstool at her touch. "Todavia sigues buscando tu hongo favorito?" he laughed as he slowed. All teasing coo as he watched her beg. Reveled in the sound of it. So soft. Tender. Raw.

Sent shivers of want down his spine all the way through the ends of him. Set his toes to wiggle against the mattress. Spine and hips to shift.

His whole arm burned with the way it worked her. Flexed and sure with the rhythm she seemed to pull for as she moved. All dip and plunge and suck as she slung curses against him. Teeth scraping across his stubble, heat washing over his neck.

Felt like he was boiling up, right there with her as she wound and wound about him.

He grinned so wide against her neck it hurt. Her pulse pounding against his brow like a soul's promise. All of her. Coiling, and coiling. Spiraling.

"...Pervertido,"

The word picked out of him a laugh that fluttered through his chest like all the papel picado stirring in the winds of her. "Asi es, mi amor, asi mero," he rumbled with pride as she came undone. All egg cracked over skillet. He pressed all the closer to her as she squeezed about him. Pulsed. Shivered and shook.

He eased into the tail of it. Followed her hitches and spasms as his hand worked back gentle the strands of her hair. Last few strokes, Caresses. Lips planting kisses at her cheek. Her brow. Her crown. Held her close a long moment.

Let his hand slip away. Raised it up so he could look at it. Wet down to the knuckle. Milky where it pooled. Let two fingers touch, and smiled at the little web of sticky cum strung between them.

"How's that for a mess?" he teased. Then licked it off his fingers.
 
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"Todavia sigues buscando tu hongo favorito?"

He had sprouted stiff and moist when she reached for him. Stood tall and proud on a field of coarse, light curls. Her thumb swept over the flushed head, spreading the bead of his dew that had gathered there. "This?" she murmured, her gaze swept down to the veined length with its weeping head trapped in a ring of her fingers. Smiling. Thumb pressing against the slit. "Aye. I want to taste it, grind it, ride it, eat it." Her hand moved. A deliberate, slow descent of every ridge, every vein. Lazy, possessive pumping until she lost control over her hand, and he slipped out of her grip.

She stayed tucked against him, cheek pressed to the curve of his throat. Her breath was still uneven as shocks flickered through her muscles, each one making her cling to him.

Daniyah let out a shaky breath, still half-floating on the aftershocks from the euphoric wave. Watched him make a cobweb of their sticky nectars between his fingers and then licked it off. The coil of tension, so recently and violently released, was already twisting into an eager knot low in her gut.

Her tongue unconsciously licked her lips. Her gaze snared on his hand and tongue, the way he enjoyed the filth of them. The sight made something inside her tilt. She could feel her pulse everywhere, and a breath too deep felt like a tumble into frenzy. Demanding more even though she was already spent and trembling. It wanted again. And again. And again. Her thighs pressed together, a helpless twitch.

She tipped her head back enough to meet his eyes. He tore apart the millions of stars of her mind easily. Breathy moans fell out of her.

"You're driving me crazy." she croaked.
 
Oh, what a croak it was.

"Yeah?" He thrummed with it. Twitched. Pulsed. Fat and firm against the bones in her hand.

Her breath poured out, swirled in bumpy moans he swallowed down with the hungry gulps of a toad. Pressed himself flat against her. Legs wrapped and twined with hooks of heel and slips of toes. Muscle and bone squeezed against muscle and bone and he felt the little scratch and rasp of all their hairs come wanting scrape against each other's coils.

"Te gusta?" he asked as he ran his fingers through the roots of her hair. Grasped the pale strands. Tugged at the base of her skull, just enough to tilt her head as he kissed at her pulse. Bit at the soft parts of her neck. "Es mi venganza," it rattled out of his grin, a hiss, as his whole body shook like a rattlesnake's tail. He pressed up against her, whole spine articulating to the slow pump, pump of her sure, hunter's hand.

"You want to taste it?" he said with a hitch of wicked laughter, sharp and taught on his voice. He felt her grip work him. Kissed her. Hard with want and teeth. All of him surging behind it. Canines and incisors just measured with how they scraped and sank against her lips. Pulled down on that plump morsel of flesh. Tongues twisted and she squeezed more and more slimy sap out of him. Lips stinging from her own bites, sweet and sharp. His head lost in the haze of them steaming off each other.

"Grind it up and eat it?" he hitched with the rythm she set. Breaths sucked in through clenched teeth as he relished in the press of them. Reached down and grabbed her by her whole haunch. Slammed it up against his hip as he worked himself closer. Wrapped his thigh between her legs. Hand gripped tight about the give of her flesh. Supple and firm as it flexed and laxed to the rhythm of their sticky, slime soaked desire. He gave her round ass a hard smack.

A grunt turned bubbling laugh as he hinged his hips and squeezed the cheek his hand grabbed to pull it spread. Moved more eager. More greedy. Grinned so wide it ached. Nose trailing about hers, lips tingling with her breath. "You want to get fucked by your toadstool?"
 
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Salty, salty sweat runs down her neck. A furious blush burned her neck and face. The heavy head in her hand was nearly as red as a toadstool with its angry cap atop the great stalk. Limbs and legs wrap around flesh like ivy. Knot together without edges. All slide and coil, like snakes drawn to the same patch of sun. Wrapped, held, and pinned all at once.

Thoughts shed like skin.
"Te gusta?"
"Yeah. No quiero nada más."
Vengeance, he called it. She huffed a breathy laugh at that. "Basta-hah-aard"

His grip pulls her head back just enough to steal her balance. Not painful, not quite, but that sweet edge between control and something feral. Wrenched a pitchy grunt from the huntress. Made her chest lift, throat bare without her choosing it. The ache blossoming under his finger, tugging at the roots of her hair, sends a jolt to her spine, sharp and bright. A lightning that narrowed the world to breath and skin.

Heat blooms there under his teeth, spreading, curling down and pooling low, dragging a sound out of her she doesn’t bother stopping. Pulse jumping under his lips. "You want to taste it?" "Grind it up and eat it?" Wanted it like she's been starved. Daniyah’s mouth curves. “Let me have it.” Imagine eating him and to be eaten! “You’ll feel so good, I promise.” the witch lured with, a voice that promised moons.

Rough lips crashed against her. Savoring ambrosia at any chance, it flows and spills over lips and tongues. Sweet, spicy, intoxicating, colored her world amber. "Mmshroom” she slurred between gasps. Curling her leg over his hip. Fingers clawing on his forearm.

"Mmmh, fuck me.”
 
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Even the nonsense that fell from their mouths felt sticky. Like it wormed through his ears and swirled down the pit of his belly. A dark potion just waiting to boil over. Waiting to puff and bloom and steam up in a hissing haze.

"Yeah," he growled as he hitched and slid and felt all her fleshy folds envelope the shaft of him. Wider and wider it felt. Drooling. Hungry. Made his teeth feel all the sharper. His bones all the harder. His cock all the redder and fuller and madder. "I'll fuck you," he said, tongue lolling and slathering under her spell. Scent like sweet death by the river full on each breath he pulled through his nose.

Hand sliding over goosebumped skin, hairs on end, like they were all gathered for séance. The hairs about his arms, about her thighs. His knuckles brushed against her brambles, wet and sopping there between them, his fingers about the aching plumpness of his cock that wanted nothing more than to be consumed. Taken in and eaten by every bump and grind and pulse.

Still, he slid it in easy, as a wicked laugh spilled from betwixt his teeth. "Mmmushroom," he teased her word back to her as he drove himself down to the base of his stem till their bodies went thump. Spine arched, belly pressed. A hand clawed about her breast as he ground and ground impossibly closer against her. Pumped. Wet smacks of honey and heat. Breaths bubbled out of him between wants and pleads all frothed with prides and greeds. "Feels too good cooking up in your tight little cauldron, Lovergirl,"

Picked up the rhythm. Twisted and tangled about her. Sprawled on the bed like the pair of snakes they were.

Every hitch of her breath. Every little moan and cry and plea that left her drove him closer to the edge of it all. Desperate need to spill and keep spilling over and over.

"Come on," he hissed and roiled and grinned against her ear. Sank his teeth into the bone of her cheek as their bodies smacked. A handful of her ass squeezed hard betwixt splayed fingers. "Spill for me," Nibbled on her ear as he drowned in the silver reeds of her sweat fogged hair.
 
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He came to her the way storms do: first in omen, then in certainty.

Sweat salted their skin. Holy salt. Warding salt. It slipped between them, undone and licked away to the last line. Her skin prickled with witchfire in each nerve. Their mouths found each other again and again, greedy as thieves in a temple, trading breaths like spells. His breath entered her lungs, tasted the sweetness of soiled sacrament and brimstone. Drank and drank him like a forbidden draught. All steeped too long, herbs bruised dark and bitter, the sort you warned others never to swallow.

“Oh, hells.. you’re fire.”

Traced his valleys and hills, scrying bone and pulse, cards stitched into sinew. The Fool resting between his shoulder blades, The Wheel turning low in the dark hinge of his body, The Nine of Swords all along his spine, The Devil on his cranium, and The Hanged Man dangling beneath his breathless sternum.

"Damn you, you wicked thing!”

She was all cauldron under him, edges scorched from overuse and center molten. Heat and simmer as he stirred deep in her. Boiling soup rippled. A black serpent in the bowl of her belly, tightening with each thrusting meeting of flesh. Her legs closed around his hips, a binding circle drawn in muscle, and he moved within it like something summoned. The witch scraped her nails down his back. Dragging him closer, urging him deeper into their warm circle.

He murmured against her throat, words that sounded like curses and blessings braided into one cord pulled tight. She answered with a sound dragged from the bottom of her chest. Her thoughts tattered like sigils. Pleasure tore and mended her in the same instant, a black starburst behind her eyes. Spilling the elixir they had been brewing. Ran down slow as wax, pooling on the bedding.
 
Where he began and she ended, lost to the terrifying ritual their skin and bones knew so well.

Shorter and shorter. The pumps between breaths. The beats between hearts. The rhythms and time of each life they offered, more and more bubbled and swirled. Sure as they slapped and hinged and drove each other.

The way she squeezed. The way she sounded. Moans muffled against his lips. Bright in his ears like the last sounds of hexes and spells, whisking his soul away, like a spider wound back it's web. The way she worked against him as he ground and ground with her. Held her in his arms, hooked about her sticky weight. Ruined husk that he was, straining and desperate to feel, and keep on feeling how she stirred. Like all of him was just another dried up newt whose ghost wanted to be pulverized by the work of alabaster walls and moonstone pestal.

Her lips stretching between his. Her teeth sinking against his flesh. Tongues tangling. More and more they begged each other. Worked each other. Rasped and breathed until something squeezed so hungry from inside of her it grabbed everything he had left and dragged it out of him as she moaned. His fingers gripped hard against her back as all of him with the dig of toes and knees, arched forward in a crash like one last dash of sticky dead man's end come gush out and into the witches brew. Spilled and spilled as his voice moaned out. Spine bent and throat ragged as a death cry turned hoarse and baying shout.

Whole body cold and goose fleshed. For but a pulse. Surged with warm, and had him shiver and shake. He turned to slow collapse atop her. Felt all melted wave and slimey mess. Breath ragged. Hips still moving as he worked down to his elbows. Slow, and easy in the wake of it all as their mess leaked out. Cock still hard between her, but numb to everything save the sea of warmth it seemed to swim in.

Garrod's arms squeezed Daniyah tight. His head nuzzled against hers, as lungs pulled hungry, full breaths that sounded against his bones.

"Damn you, Bruja" he let out as fingers combed back silver hairs from her brow. Tugged gentle at their roots. "You turned me into a puddle of goo,"
 
She stretched like a satisfied cat, then winced and laughed at the same time, body shivering as she felt him still moving inside her. Their warm spill seeped and slid, sliming down her inner thighs. The numbness he felt, she felt too, a deep, thudding saturation, humming like a spell still burning on the air. Her thighs tightened around him one last lazy, greedy clutch, to keep him there, keep him floating in that molten pool they’d made.

Her breath came slow and heavy, not ragged now but softened, like the last glow from banked coals. The tremor in her thighs eased into a languid ache. The blankets twisted like a battleground. She let out a small huffed laugh, voice husky from delight. Her gaze wandered lazily back to him, amused, fond even for her.

"My brave hunter, melted into goo in my arms.” she murmured half-lidded, dazed, drunk on it. Daniyah dragged a hand through the soaked sheets, sticky and wet from their rituals. She hissed softly between ragged breaths. “Damn me..." she rasped, eyes glinting. Traced her hand through the puddles beneath them.

“You’ve drowned us both.."
 
A roil of laughter to follow her squeeze as he scooped her up as she lolled and splayed. Strong against his bones as he thunked his head against hers. Relished in how it felt to be so pressed and taken in.

Breath, after breath. Smile stretched and eye full of gauzy wonder as he simply took it all in. The rumble of her laugh. The stir of her voice. Warm as smoked chilies. Sweet as dark honey.

"My brave hunter...

Made his cheeks catch fire. Eye dart away. Let his breath pour out as she stirred. Worked his arms under her.

...You've drowned us both..."

Scooped her up and rolled her over to the side with a thwump. Hitched just the bit to keep them together as all the colors and warmth bled their slow dreamy fade away. And he'd feel as much of it as he damn well could. Kept her close.

"Damn me as many times as you want, my silver witch," fell back, amidst the curtain of her warm, suffocating strands, so poured over him. "I'll drown, and drown again, every time you want to drag me down, like this,"
 
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Daniyah let herself be gathered. Boneless and useless in his arms. Everything in her felt pleasantly unstrung, muscles and bones lax as honey. A soft laugh spilled from her as he tumbled them to the side. The world tilted, then settled. Sheets dragged. He remained sunk within her, a lingering presence, a tether. Bliss flowed through her bones like warm wine, heavy and red.

The last of her laughter whispered into a sigh against a muscle as round as a cannonball. Her head came to rest against his shoulder when they landed.

His voice moved through her like a spell. She smiled, eyes half-closed. Her lips brushed his skin, light as the flutter of a butterfly wing. Thin eyelids blinked heavy, then closed altogether. A warm breath left her in a long sigh, and her drowsy fingers traced the line of scars on his arm.

“Hush,” she murmured. Bodies glazed and shining, the scent of them thick in the chamber. "The world ends in your arms.”
 
Breath stolen from his lips. His single eye wide upon her as her fingers slowly traced the lines of him, and the cold came in to remind his skin just how warm the tip of her touch really was. How hot the press of her skin against his still felt. Sticky, and cooling with each breath that passed between them.

Old stones of the old house, trapped whatever sweat born steam they had burned off each other, and like them, it bled too. Out whatever cracks and gaps there were about them.

And he could think of no single word to give her. No string or phrase. For the morrow would come, as sure as their hearts kept their beats. And tired as he was. To the very bone. His arms would hold her sure. For a moment so long it felt as if he had fallen into a dream. Bed about him swallowed the pair of them up.

Half expected her to turn to muck. A vision of mud, swept away by rains of day's new light.Yet with each breath he took, she still remained. Potion eaten. Road broken. Monster scarred, and ghost eyed.

When he had fallen out between the lazy slips and shifts of their legs, twists of their ankles and grips of toes, he couldn't quite remember. If she were asleep or not, he couldn't quite tell. He would get up. Clean up.

Hours later. Maybe minutes between the blink of eye. Grabbed up the twined old linens. Dragged the corners across her. Slipped into small clothes, that weren't used as rags. Left the room. Jug of water, a bowl, a fresh rag, and a pair of clay cups in his hands when he returned. Set them on the end table. Neat and one by one. Quiet. Careful. Near a sprawl of green painted vines, and flowers of bruised pinks, and butter yellows.

Out into the house he went again.

Through the walls, the door shut too loud with a clunk. Bark barks of the techichis.

Muffled voices.

"You're back,"

"You're up!" Could hear the squint in her stormscarred eyes. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"I'm not smiling,"

"Are you washing something?"

"You're drunk,"

A laugh. "Yeah!" Bark bark.

Birds sang with the first rays peer of morning spill over the pueblin. Just touched the house at the end of terminus road.

-Fin-​
 
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