His great lustful urges increased as she spoke, having her body against him and pressing a hand along the mark of his chest. She hadn't meant for it to scar, he believed, but after their first time together he'd wanted something to remember his lover by. As the scab grew and Toby tried to get rid of it he'd made sure to peel the brown covering off. It was he who made the mark what it was and he who wore it with pride. Her words stirred the memories of blood and gore mixed with lust and sex. That night had done well to change him. He'd been sent into a time of craze where she was all he thought about or wanted. It had made his crimes difficult.
Fang smirked, looking to his lover as he replied. Actually, I may be even better. Then he used his hold on her to switch them up. As he rolled back onto his back he tugged her with him, her body moved by his black hands so she straddled him. He leaned up, his hands moving from her legs to her lower hips where they settled for the moment. His lips, half showing his top fangs, glided down her neck and chest. He wanted to pamper his goddess, and prove he was a worthy mate. His tongue lapped out against her fur and rubbed it's way back up her neck. He paused in his movements, looking at her again. Would you like me to prove it, my lover?
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Fang Table By Cait.