Souna was already ripping the mask off Ussi´s face by the time he crossed the threshold of the dark tent holding her in his arms. Her fingers latching onto the now familiar bindings and undoing them with precise motions.
The warrior’s lips quickly pressing onto hers, his tongue finding its way inside her mouth and thoroughly sweeping it whole as Souna let out muffled moans. One arm clinging around his neck while he kept her easily suspended in the air between his arms. Her other hand running down the prickly trimmed hair covering his sharp jaw.
A strong, bestial need suddenly taking hold of her as she brushed his face over and over with an increasing desire. Her fingers tracing every line desperately, blindly intending to see him somehow, and obviously failing at it… Feeling only a dull
