Seven knows she is playing with fire but call her a pyromaniac because it is addicting. His taste is still on her tongue and the flavor is causing spasms of pleasure to dance along her body. Had she ever tasted something so delicious? She could spend hours just dragging her tongue across his flesh and perhaps a nibble or two in order to coax retaliation. Innocence was not Seven.

Orbs widened a fraction as he moved closer. She had not expected an immediate response to her actions. What a pity she pouted, lips jutting out at the thought of her fun being ruined. The growl he releases causes her auds to perk up and her stomach to clench with heat and wanton desire. Gods, what that sound does to me!

His breath upon her skin causes goosebumps and an involuntary swallow of the saliva that had pooled in her mouth. He was so much more standing this close to her. Who was this stallion? Why was she just now meeting him?

She was not permitted to lick him again? Oh, the horror! As if she needed permission to do anything she wanted. He could try and take her tongue from her mouth but she would make it far from easy. This stallion had just thrown down a gauntlet and it would be remiss of her if she simply bowed her crown and acquiesced. Game on.

"Promises. Promises. I'll think about adhering to your demand."

Seven let her eyes roam over his frame, now that he was close enough to touch. Interest danced across her features as she observed the multitude of scars and the muscles that visible stood out against the darkness of his frame. Seven herself was pristine - flesh unmarred by the silliness that was war wounds. She was all curves, grace and innocence -- if one didn't take into account her personality.

"Am I going to have to beg for your name stranger or must I come up with something to call you? Like Ashmedai." Of course, she would name him after the personification of lust. Naughty seven.

SPEECH

[ oops ]