Slice em & Dice em

With each moment that passed, the woman became snarkier with him. She didn’t shy away, despite their close pxomimity. Nor did she cower in the wake of his dominant aura. She even dared to taunt him, dryly answering his questions, choosing to stay minimally involved in the conversation. And it irked him, which was likely her goal. “Daddy issues, hm?” He retorted, wanting to burrow his way beneath her skin, to strike a nerve in some way or another. Getting a rise out of her was just one of his intentions. But the grand scheme of this encounter was to satisfy his own perverse needs.

“If you aren’t a Saxe,” He started as he leaned in toward her, attempting to shove his shoulder into her if she didn’t move away. “Then you don’t deserve those fangs.” His tail rose above his hips, pelt bristling and lips curling to bare his fangs and flash her a toothy sneer. He was teetering on the edge, the impulse to attack and ravage her plaguing his mind. All he needed was one more snarky comment, and he would lose control. Which was what he wanted anyway.

"Speech"