Wapun Meadow the nasty words of a hateful song

merrick closed his eyes, arching upward toward the coy ministrations of the tiger. they were exposed in their entanglement, but he did not care, could not care. "no," came his challenge, his refusal to surrender to propriety. all thoughts of warlike sparring past; merrick was a creature who desired flesh above all things.
the single eye glowed upward as if it were a torch alongside a gate, and presently merrick squirmed a bit, nipped the inside of donovan's thick foreleg gently, desirously.
"is this how you solidify every alliance?" teasing, grinning; a petty word for the casanova who held him in thrall.