WORDCOUNT: 354
He doesn't think about it, doesn't need to. His body knows the song and dance, the lines and angles of Echidna's current form. He can remember all of those things that they used to do and how it all had felt like. That sort of thing didn't just go away, no matter how difficult those thoughts and memories could be. But Echidna knew what he liked and the fact that blood like this gets him going. All of it was a weakness, and he hadn't even given it a moment's thought that it would go in this direction when he had accepted her challenge. He should have, but he didn't. Even now it doesn't really click in his mind.

Her fingers at his shirt sleeves remind him that he's wearing it, and he's suddently struggling out of it, ripping it enough that it's useless moments later when her fingers were leaving bruises over his arms. He doesn't mind it; in fact it only causes him to react with a sharp nip to the now licked-clean jawline, a gritty growl crawling up his throat. The blood has him in a sort of frenzy, but that was a normal, usual thing after this kind of hunt. It doesn't help that he's been alone for some time now, and everything is in over-drive at the moment. She started it with the blood licking and all.

Echidna's arms were around his neck and she was pulling him closer, against her. It's automatic, the way his body slides and curls to hers, knowing just where to fit. Then she was kissing him and Quinn urges the action on and responds a little too hungrily, hands beginning to roam, blunted fingernails looking for purchase on flesh to scrape down it, but with Echidna pulling back and speaking, Quinn blinks and freezes. Reality starts to slide down around him at her words. Not so much the fact of what she was saying, but the speaking at all is starting to shake him from the haze. "Uhm." And he's flicking his lower lip under his upper teeth, torn between moving and not.