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The hesitation in her reply makes his brow lift, feeling a frisson of jealousy dart through him. Surely she could not possibly have had a date who came close to rivalling him? My last date was pretty handsome, actually. "Hmmph,” is his reply, feeling the jealousy increase, no doubt to the amusement of the mare beside him. Like a child who has been told he needs to learn to share, Volterra's lower lip ejects slightly in a sulky pout. His titanic muscles tense and he gazes down at her, expression still darkened and with a wicked grin beginning to unfurl from his lips. "Do I need to go and beat him up?” he questions, and the tensing of his body should tell her that he's not entirely joking. Her second sentence puts him more at ease, though, and he unleashes a loud earthquake of a chortle. "And women who can rip holes in my shoulder are dreadfully attractive,” he says with a glance at his wound. Tiamat's herbs have somewhat assauged the pain, but it's still an ever-present pulse in the injured area. She's closer now, their bodies tangled together like thorns, and the stallion's excitement begins to rise. No matter how many times he does this, he does not tire of the thrill of the hunt, the capture, the feast. Sex and battle....it is hard to decide which he prefers. There's another guttural growl at her touch and he leans even closer, seeking to pepper her with nips...and then she slips away, leaving his skin feeling cold without her embrace. "Tease,” he growls, moving after her in time for her hip to press against his shoulder. He aims to plant a bite onto the dock of her tail, an unspoken question about whether she is ready to proceed further. |
@Aelfwine
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
