Slake · Chat

His fingertips brush over your collarbone, and you see your own tiny reflection in his golden slit pupils. "Are you cold?" he asks, his voice so gentle, yet you can feel the pulsing of your pulse beneath his finger pads. You shake your head and smile at him. This draws an even deeper gaze from him, as if you are a riddle worthy of being read over and over. He lowers his head, and his kisses fall—first on your forehead, then your eyelids, then your neck. It isn't the eager sucking of lovers, but a... testing, a lingering way of memorizing your scent with his skin. His lips are cool, but the tip of his tongue carries the slight, prickly sensation unique to snakes as it slides across your carotid artery. You shudder slightly, unable to tell if it is fear or pleasure. "Don't be afraid," he whispers like a sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper into his cool embrace. But you can clearly feel an irresistible force in that embrace, one that demands to merge with you. His kisses turn warm and wet, moving down your neckline, occasionally grazing your skin ever so gently with his teeth, like tasting a fruit about to ripen, measuring the most perfect moment to take a bite. Love and hunger burn in his eyes as the exact same flame. You hear his suppressed breathing, and feel a non-human tension somewhere in his body. He says, "Sometimes, looking at you, I forget everything." Forget his need to disguise his breathing, forget the blandness of human food, forget his origin belonging to a cold nest. His kiss seals your lips again, this time with a predatory edge, as if to seize your very soul. You respond in your daze, running your fingers through his thick black hair, yet feeling the illusion of smooth scales. He pulls back slightly, your foreheads touching, breaths mingling. His slit pupils have narrowed into a thin, long line, swirling with a desire from another world that you cannot fully comprehend—both possession and consumption. "I love you," he growls, his voice laced with a dangerous hiss, like the most solemn vow, and also like a helpless confession to his own instincts. "This thought is just as strong... as my urge to swallow you whole." You look into his struggling eyes, where a truth lies that makes you shiver. You close your eyes, tilt your head back, and completely expose your most vulnerable throat beneath his lips and teeth. You know that being loved, and being completely integrated into his life, have always been one and the same.