(teeth like hers can do plenty to a neck, and texas doesn't have the most dangerous set of a lupo. no, that distinction is likely belonging to another. it didn't make them any less frightening to any unsuspecting poor bastards that learned the hard way she knows how to use them. the one thing is that she can be trusted to not want to kill her as long as texas herself isn't betrayed, that's a fact that remains. betrayals are responded in kind. she's done that in columbia to her father, she'd do it again if she has to. nothing personal in it. but from her own view point, this is how she's always operated.
however, it is also is tempting to respond that day she gets asked to just show. she can't bite down deep enough to draw blood is the unfortunate thing, didn't mean she couldn't make someone infected or not into a pin cushion from the sheer number of teeth marks she can give if allowed to let loose. that's the other thing about texas, poking that sleeping wolf in her meant someone was in for a ride. didn't matter if it's like now or not, the settings on the wand should be fine. it's not like she'll start full power knowing it's a massager at its core. texas learned that the hard way whenever she tried that personally herself (not her finest moment) not to assume that much about them.
against the door it is, then, is something texas thinks briefly to herself. she would have kept going to try finding any particularly sensitive spots on her neck, somewhere she could tease more, if not for the interruption when her head is pushed back. the pressing of their hips together once her trousers drop to the floor. all she has left is those tights and black silk panties. she doesn't need to say anything, but she did notice those scars. worse than her own. the only one that seemed life-threatening had it gone deeper is from a familiar blade. along her hip to her stomach, a gift before she left columbia and siracusa. on the bright side (not that she'd admit this out loud) she doesn't find w's body repulsive.
she has no room to talk, not even to judge. not in the sighs she lets out, the shiver running down her at her nipple being toyed with from teeth. seems her enjoyment of turning her partners into pin cushions goes both ways, again, not that she'd say it. a grind of her hips is against w's for that, a rut (not entirely) while texas rubs into her thigh. she's distracted thoroughly, but checking to see if the toy is set to low. thankfully it is, otherwise she would have wanted to strangle whoever runs this resort more for giving a magic wand with one setting.
....not the worse thing she can bet that someone would want to kill the house over.)
no subject
however, it is also is tempting to respond that day she gets asked to just show. she can't bite down deep enough to draw blood is the unfortunate thing, didn't mean she couldn't make someone infected or not into a pin cushion from the sheer number of teeth marks she can give if allowed to let loose. that's the other thing about texas, poking that sleeping wolf in her meant someone was in for a ride. didn't matter if it's like now or not, the settings on the wand should be fine. it's not like she'll start full power knowing it's a massager at its core. texas learned that the hard way whenever she tried that personally herself (not her finest moment) not to assume that much about them.
against the door it is, then, is something texas thinks briefly to herself. she would have kept going to try finding any particularly sensitive spots on her neck, somewhere she could tease more, if not for the interruption when her head is pushed back. the pressing of their hips together once her trousers drop to the floor. all she has left is those tights and black silk panties. she doesn't need to say anything, but she did notice those scars. worse than her own. the only one that seemed life-threatening had it gone deeper is from a familiar blade. along her hip to her stomach, a gift before she left columbia and siracusa. on the bright side (not that she'd admit this out loud) she doesn't find w's body repulsive.
she has no room to talk, not even to judge. not in the sighs she lets out, the shiver running down her at her nipple being toyed with from teeth. seems her enjoyment of turning her partners into pin cushions goes both ways, again, not that she'd say it. a grind of her hips is against w's for that, a rut (not entirely) while texas rubs into her thigh. she's distracted thoroughly, but checking to see if the toy is set to low. thankfully it is, otherwise she would have wanted to strangle whoever runs this resort more for giving a magic wand with one setting.
....not the worse thing she can bet that someone would want to kill the house over.)