10-05-2009, 10:44 PM
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WC: 461
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Her hand was warm, her fingers small and delicate in his gentle grip. He had expected her to flinch or shy away, since by his standards she appeared proper and dutiful to her tribe - not at all his usual type, or at least the type to be drawn to his shameless flattery and lasciviousness. But then again, he was never picky when it came to women, as long as they were into him... and when the dark-furred lady instead raised her other hand to play with his fur, keeping the warmth between their bodies, he knew she was at least interested.
"Enchantée, mademoiselle Hanna," he crooned, holding her mismatched gaze with his intense black eyes. This was fun. While he was very much the novelty here, with his foreign accent and colorful dog's pelt, from his viewpoint wolves were the exotic and unique ones. He had yet to really court any of them in the time he spent here - he flirted with his packmates Firefly and Svara, sure, but they were too proud to let him touch them. And the two Lykois he enjoyed the company of were clearly coyote mixes, so - if Hanna accepted his advances, she would be the first wolf to rendez-vous with him.
A thought occurred to him as she glanced at him shyly through the veil of her lashes - was he to be her first, as well? She was his age or older, but she did not act like a woman experienced in the ways of men. There was no manipulation, no motives behind her innocence. If he knew the meaning of guilt, he might question his motives, but alas, the deluded monarch had no such shame. Hanna should at least know what she was getting into, a harmless night of fun on the borders of her own packland... He would make it worth her while. He was royalty, after all.
"You would make me a blanket? That is sweet, chère fille, très douce... But you know, it will not keep me as warm as you could by yourself..." Jacquez felt her leaning closer, irresistibly drawn to his magnetic charm. He released her hand, letting it slip to fall against his lean chest as his white-furred fingers brushed the graceful lines of her throat. Her breath was warm against his cheek, a welcome sensation in the chill air creeping in around them. They were close, so close! but still he held back for one moment more, his lone hand lightly touching her cheekbone. "Do you want this, Hanna?" he asked her, his whisper soft and husky. If she backed down now, he would simply leave, never to return. And if she said yes... there would be no further questions.
:>
Her hand was warm, her fingers small and delicate in his gentle grip. He had expected her to flinch or shy away, since by his standards she appeared proper and dutiful to her tribe - not at all his usual type, or at least the type to be drawn to his shameless flattery and lasciviousness. But then again, he was never picky when it came to women, as long as they were into him... and when the dark-furred lady instead raised her other hand to play with his fur, keeping the warmth between their bodies, he knew she was at least interested.
"Enchantée, mademoiselle Hanna," he crooned, holding her mismatched gaze with his intense black eyes. This was fun. While he was very much the novelty here, with his foreign accent and colorful dog's pelt, from his viewpoint wolves were the exotic and unique ones. He had yet to really court any of them in the time he spent here - he flirted with his packmates Firefly and Svara, sure, but they were too proud to let him touch them. And the two Lykois he enjoyed the company of were clearly coyote mixes, so - if Hanna accepted his advances, she would be the first wolf to rendez-vous with him.
A thought occurred to him as she glanced at him shyly through the veil of her lashes - was he to be her first, as well? She was his age or older, but she did not act like a woman experienced in the ways of men. There was no manipulation, no motives behind her innocence. If he knew the meaning of guilt, he might question his motives, but alas, the deluded monarch had no such shame. Hanna should at least know what she was getting into, a harmless night of fun on the borders of her own packland... He would make it worth her while. He was royalty, after all.
"You would make me a blanket? That is sweet, chère fille, très douce... But you know, it will not keep me as warm as you could by yourself..." Jacquez felt her leaning closer, irresistibly drawn to his magnetic charm. He released her hand, letting it slip to fall against his lean chest as his white-furred fingers brushed the graceful lines of her throat. Her breath was warm against his cheek, a welcome sensation in the chill air creeping in around them. They were close, so close! but still he held back for one moment more, his lone hand lightly touching her cheekbone. "Do you want this, Hanna?" he asked her, his whisper soft and husky. If she backed down now, he would simply leave, never to return. And if she said yes... there would be no further questions.