Silvertip Mountain Mind of Stone, Heart of Glass

He likes the hitch in her breath that his ears just barely catch. It’s doesn’t only convince him to keep going but it causes him to look back up to capture her heated expressions.
His mouth opens his mouth and even settles his jaws upon her fur. He doesn’t open his maw enough to cover her whole throat, which he could’ve done, rather he only opens it enough to get all four canines on the she-wolf. When he does so, Donovan doesn’t apply enough to pressure to worry. He only keeps this position for a second or two then travels up, leaving short sweet kisses on his way up. A blackened tongue brushes her ear then more directly, the male goes to lick her muzzle. His tongue gliding over whiskers and her leathery nose almost sensually. All the while his eyes are only open a crack to reveal a sliver of yellow gazing back at her. 

Then all of a sudden he’s pulling back and grinning at her with a sigh. “Guess we’d better eat then.” Is all he says in a gravely, pleasure ridden voice. “I’d assume you’d want to take it back to your pack? I could help you carry it.” He offers, he still carries a hint of his teasing lilt to his words.