quinn.
She responds to his touch positively. Quinn can practically feel the heat of excitement smoldering against his lips, and she reaches toward him to reciprocate. His own instincts are aflame with hormones, and the cool air that fills the space between them as she pulls away leaves an unpleasant kiss against his cheek. A bitter version of the kiss she left there a second ago.
He watches her with carefully contained hunger as she resumes her position at his side, close but no longer touching. Her scent makes him frustrated, but only because he
wants it, and chooses not to pursue it... yet. He knows she is playing a game with him, and though he partakes willingly, he is not yet ready to disqualify himself by doing something stupid. He leans into the game gently, instead of diving head-first as he is sure another stallion might do. She might win, in the end, but Quinn was determined to give her a game she would not so quickly forget.
“A queen,” he purrs thoughtfully.
“I hate to make assumptions, but... you don't seem like the type of Queen who might have conveniently inherited her throne.” The coffee-colored stallion gives her a knowing smirk.
“And you don't go around looking for simple, pretty faces to keep your kingdom, do you.” I'd hate to have to show you how sharp my teeth can be, she had said, and Quinn takes this as proof of his point.
He reaches for her again, his own teeth parting to leave a far bolder, sharper kiss on the same spot he had tickled just a moment ago.
“Something tells me you wouldn't hate that at all,” he taunts.
“In fact, I think both of us could use a little... encouragement.” He pulls back, ready for the firecrackers, should they come. Truthfully, Quinn needs no further encouragement to follow Nyimara back to her desert kingdom, but he knows there is more of this game to play before they depart... and to pass it up would be so
disappointing.
stallion. spanish mustang mutt. 15.3hh. smoky black overo.
