Ravensblood Forest Trees of Crimson

As the female takes in their new position with her gaze flitting between his arms and then finally meeting his own eyes. She’s confident and doesn’t shy away from his gaze even when he goes to rest canines on her soft throat. He could easily clamp his jaws down and end her life if he wanted to. He’s already lured her to become more comfortable around him in the short time they’ve met. Of course, he decides he doesn’t want to kill her. He decided that when she replied her stern, pensive gaze to one with more expression. He finds her interesting and it seems to be in her benefit. Being on Donovan’s good side isn’t a hard feat to accomplish, it’s really just a trial of circumstances. 

Then, as his teeth are still easily wrapped  over the majority of her delicate throat, her Constance wriggling stops and it seems like she’s submitted, or allowed him this victory; for now it seems. Relieving her of his presence, he lifts his massive head, golden gaze still stuck on her own. Jaws lift from her throat and his black-purple tongue passes over his chops, licking along where his whiskers sit. He huffs a breath out his nose that could be considered a breathy laugh and finally goes to step off of her. 

Languid and unrushed, he looks back to her with an easy, yet teasing, smile. “Good job. You had me there for a second, snow.” He boasts to her, adding the nickname in there just to be extra and gauge a reaction out of her. “How long have you been training?” He asks now, curiosity weaves into his voice rather than his usual teasing lilt.