[Fang wasted no time. Her fingers pushed in (so wet, so eager, for her), fervently stroking and hooking, desperate to please her. She tore her mouth away from the wound to latch onto a breast, sucking, her tongue circling and flicking over that peak repeatedly.]
[But the Turnskin's instinct wasn't all hunger and possessiveness; the hand on Chariot's thigh shifted back to it's human form, protectively pressing across that oozing slash to staunch it.]
[Chariot was hers. Her blood gave a rush unlike any Fang'd ever felt. But no matter how enticing that sanguine taste, how marks decorated her skin with claims, they were still wounds. She wouldn't (couldn't) let her Bonded bleed too much.]
no subject
[But the Turnskin's instinct wasn't all hunger and possessiveness; the hand on Chariot's thigh shifted back to it's human form, protectively pressing across that oozing slash to staunch it.]
[Chariot was hers. Her blood gave a rush unlike any Fang'd ever felt. But no matter how enticing that sanguine taste, how marks decorated her skin with claims, they were still wounds. She wouldn't (couldn't) let her Bonded bleed too much.]