This Doesn't Look Like New Orleans
10-05-2014, 04:21 PM
His breath was at her ear as soon as she came to stand between him. Her face gave nothing away. The anger that flared was hidden behind her mask. Her attention was on the woman. Tension would roll over her, crashing down like a wave. But this needed to be played carefully. A slow grin would pull at her lips, despite that she wanted to rip her mates balls from his body. "I am very rarely mistaken." Words were soft, spoken as though she was seducing this woman. She didn't let on whether or not she believed the woman. If the woman had any sense then she would have taken note of her own scent that clung to every inch of him. When the woman spoke again, all bets were off. Leaving Kylars side she would step forward in an attempt close some of the distance between them. "Well my little harlot, you may just get what you want." Words left her lips in a throaty growl. Hackles bristled along her back as her ears pinned and eyes narrowed. Her tail would curl above her hips as her crown fell level with her spine and her chin tucked. Defenses were held loosely in place, though she had no intentions of needing them. Yet. She would move to attempt to brush against the woman's side so that she could walk in a small circle around her. Her gaze would rake over the woman, coral pools hungry. It was bound to be an enjoyable day, whether or not this harlot chose to play along. And no matter what, she would not soon forget this day. He gaze would flicker only briefly to Kylars, darkening with a heady cocktail of desire, blood lust and anger. If successful in her positioning, she would aim to nip at the woman's hips, curious know if she open to anyones company, or just her husbands. HER WORDS HERE HIS WORDS HERE |