I always trust you. [ But the playful lilt in her voice implies that she's still going to make him show her, or tell her, or both, in excruciating detail. ]
[ She stoops down to nose at his chest, then bite down. She doesn't stay to drink, however, only licks up the remnants of blood as the wounds heal over, the most perfect give and take between a Queen and her Chevalier, only to move a few inches and do the same again in a slow, bloody path until her red-tinted lips whisper against his mouth. ]
That you treat me with care is nice, but I won't break. [ It's all right to take what he wants. She likes when they're on equal footing in these matters, and she knows he'll stop if she even thinks it loud enough (why she could ever want that is a mystery to her, but it's the plain truth). ]
[ Yeah, yes, that's so good, he arches up into her mouth, panting for a moment before he can even begin to reply. He's so hard, hnngh, wants her — needs her...
But the words settle on him, and then he's — laughing, low and thick. ]
Like you couldn't break me over your knee.
[ Like his eyes don't burn brighter thinking of it. ] [ Lupine sits up, meets her in a hungry kiss, and flips her over onto her back because she's all but ordering it, half shrugging out of his slightly worse-for-wear shirt as he does so. ]
[ Part of the reason she swipes and nibbles at him is because he likes it, and part to taste the distinct, very palatable changes in his blood, the swell of need when she teases him. It's -- well, delicious. She can tell he's about to be a good boy and follow directions, so she can't resist getting one more tease in beforehand: ]
Only if you ask nicely.
[ And then he's stretching up for her, kissing her, pinning her down, his eyes and body and blood craving her in that way she adores. Her fangs lance through his lip, and with his shirt out of her way she scratches deep welts up his shoulders, knowing that his blood will taste all the sweeter the more she makes him want her. ]
no subject
[ She stoops down to nose at his chest, then bite down. She doesn't stay to drink, however, only licks up the remnants of blood as the wounds heal over, the most perfect give and take between a Queen and her Chevalier, only to move a few inches and do the same again in a slow, bloody path until her red-tinted lips whisper against his mouth. ]
That you treat me with care is nice, but I won't break. [ It's all right to take what he wants. She likes when they're on equal footing in these matters, and she knows he'll stop if she even thinks it loud enough (why she could ever want that is a mystery to her, but it's the plain truth). ]
no subject
But the words settle on him, and then he's — laughing, low and thick. ]
Like you couldn't break me over your knee.
[ Like his eyes don't burn brighter thinking of it. ] [ Lupine sits up, meets her in a hungry kiss, and flips her over onto her back because she's all but ordering it, half shrugging out of his slightly worse-for-wear shirt as he does so. ]
no subject
Only if you ask nicely.
[ And then he's stretching up for her, kissing her, pinning her down, his eyes and body and blood craving her in that way she adores. Her fangs lance through his lip, and with his shirt out of her way she scratches deep welts up his shoulders, knowing that his blood will taste all the sweeter the more she makes him want her. ]