Deepwood Weald Diddly dee

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There was nothing of her that reminded him of Lotte and in many respects this made it much easier. In a way, it fed the gangster's ego: that she was so willing without knowing anything about him. Then again, this spoke the same about his character in that moment. Arturo wasn't sure what made him give into the base desire, the shallow temptation of her body. Perhaps because it had been so long, perhaps because his focus had been so very singular since his arrival in the Teekon Wilds, only to find himself distracted here and there by Lotte when he was around her. Perhaps it was both and not either of them at all. He had no inclination to further observe it. As Arturo littered the ministrations of his nips upon her flesh the flit of her tail to and fro did not fall out of the gangster's notice. His eyes flickered to her hindquarters, ears cupping back to hear the soft noises that came from her lips, using them as encouragement.

He brushed his muzzle teasingly against the junction where her tail bone met her spine for the briefest of moments as he slid slowly around her, his shoulder pressing against against the other side of her hip, pressing his nose to where her ear met her skull, giving the ear a soft tug. He didn't ask the question aloud but it was in the press of his body, in the light but firm grip of his teeth against her ear. Do you want me? Everything said that she did but the gangster desired control and he wanted to hear her to beg him for it.

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