She pulled her face away from his with a scowl, puffing out a sound of displeasure instead of hot air. How disappointing.

“You’re a bad kisser.” Aysel peered at him thoughtfully, frown still lingering on her lips. Had she done something wrong? Maybe, she kept biting him, but she thought he liked it. Gray eyes glanced towards the marks she had left, spotty and splotchy, red and pink, all mottled on one side of his neck. No, he liked it, he didn’t cry out but instead held in his breath as if savoring it, the sharp pain, the dull tender burn afterwards.

“I will teach you,” the werewolf decided, her hands still warm and firm against his face. “I have watched many, many people kiss so I know best on what to do. You want to learn?”
 
His cheeks burned all the brights. Teeth gnashed. "Bad kisser?" He growled. Half looked away. Huffed. Shook his head. "You're just getting kissed wrong," he muttered. spots still stinging sweet where she had nipped him good with those teeth. That meant teeth were good, right?

Gnash. Tear. Gobble up. Lick it all down.

Felt his mouth swell up with spit. She was still on him. Felt her pressed up against the wet mess between them. Warmer. Heavy. Like a meatball.

"Teach me?" he sounded to eager. Hissed. Pout. Hands still clutched tight about her. Pulled her closer. Thumped. Poked and rubbed. Rumble low in his throat with all the ache and frustration twitching stiff through his spine. "Show me then," he whispered over her lips.

Almost a whimper with how bad he wanted more.
 
Aysel thought it more likely that she was right and Spirit Eyes was wrong. She couldn't sniff it out, but something told her, like a sixth sense, that she had bruised his ego, that his muttered words were a fragile wall quickly built to save his fortitude. Such a weak constitution, so quick to growl and huff, but then look at her pleadingly after grinding strong teeth together. Such a brat.

"Yes," Aysel breathed, agreeing. Her nose touched his; she held his face firm in her hand. A caressing kiss, nose against nose, mapping out the feature between the two of them, ridge pressed against ridge as Aysel tilted her head. "Make your lips loose. Don't think, just feel. Close your eyes." Hot breath against a pretty warm mouth, her own severe mouth parting. Her tongue darted over her lower lip, their bodies so hard pressed against each other, like a book with no pages.

She could smell the oil and grease between them. Disgusting. Greedy. Nasty. Tasty. Filthy. Magnetic. Even if he had kissed her poorly, she still wanted him. She could help him fix his mistakes. Lips pressed against his, beseeching against his mouth, pushing against lips plush and still tasting of spice. Aysel was slow in her study of his mouth, slow in how a hand moved from cradling his face to trace down his neck, along his shoulder, down a bicep. She found the line of his waist, straight and steady. Her hand curved around, gripping the small of his back, palm hard against his spine.

Somehow, she pulled him closer against her as she pulled her head away, Spirit Eye's bottom lip between her teeth. Aysel's gray eyes opened, wild and blazing and yet surprisingly tender, looking over the young man's face.
 
His eyes shut and his breath spilled out. Sounds rolling out of him. A long stretched out good that rattled against his bones, and shook its way down each rib and across each vertebrate. Set the membrane of his skin to quiver and tremble.

And when he listened. When he let himself go soft. It all just got the warmer. Felt the juicier. Squish and wet and against those pretty pink lips like little treats he just wanted to nibble and suck on. But her tongue kept moving, and his felt clumsy, and all too heavy in his own mouth. Felt stupid letting it out.

She just pushed up against him. Hard and wanting. And he gasped as he felt all the wetness of the mess growing between them. Hotter. Heavier. Beat after thick beat full of blood between his ears.

Slobbering like a dog as their lips parted and their breaths swirled. Nothing felt cold. Everything felt hot. He gasped as she got closer. Her soft bits, pressing down smush as her teeth grabbed what they wanted. And his lips felt fatter for it as her bite sank in. Tongue fuller with wet thirst.

His eyes cracked open. Saw how she looked at him. How steam rose off the pair of them. Breath clouding in wisps and trails between his slathering pants. Couldn't even feel the cold stone of the wall pressed against his back. Save for the pinprick of needles going in his skin.

Kinda liked that too.

"More," he said as her teeth scraped, and his breath puffed out. Grabbed her tight against he bones. Hard as he just moved with the feeling. Too eager. Too clumsy. Grinding against her. Wanted to smother himself in it. Roll in it.

All her warmth. Her tongue. Mouth and kisses. And the heat that pulled him closer and closer. Made him fuller than any spicy sauced sandwich ever could. And still so damn, achingly, hungry. A pit at the base of his spine, where all of him seemed to pull and pulse and throb against her. Eyes wider than the moons. Snapped shut. He licked her lips back. Flat and wide tongued. Too heavy. Too far.

Bit her cheek. Her lips. Too hard. Remembered. Soft. Rubbed his face against her as his breath quivered. Nose against her long elegant nose. Like a fucking pup starved for attention. "Teach me more," he begged as he nuzzled and hitched. "Teach me how to be better," he growled. "Aysel," he moaned for how much he liked the name come off his tongue. How it made him feel. All tingle and shock alongside the sting and the ache down in his loins.
 
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Hungry wolf looked back at its reflection. Dark maw, parted, hot breath heavy, teeth slick with spit. Head fuzzy, heart pounding, senses aflame and almost painful beneath the skin.

“‘Kay.” Aysel huffed, holding him tight despite the way his teeth assaulted her, his tongue claiming her. He was a fast learner. A one man army, his body quick to make her throw away sensibilities like dirty used tissues. Good riddance.

“Hey… are you fast?” Big bad hungry wolf no longer saw its reflection. Another nibble down his throat, kisses like roses with thorns resembling claws. “You can run… I will chase. I catch you, I take you.” A snap of teeth.
 
Stings sank sweet into skin. Teeth trailed lines of sticky slobber that stretched and snapped against chin.

She said things. Between heavy breaths. He licked up the lines of wet up her jaw bone and across her lips. Bit down on those plump little petals of her lips. Thin. But all the better to peel back and place her marks across his neck. His handss ventured up her back. Fingers clawed against the span of her shoulders.

Strong. Just like him.

... are you fast?

"Faster than you," he loosed in a fog of breath.

She looked at him. Wet sheen on her, just as sunk another bite in. Breath rattled out of him in puffs. Lines, hot like scars welling with blood down his neck.

I will chase. I catch ou. I take you.

Grabbed her all the harder. Turned her. Pinned her against the wall. Hard. Pressed his bones against her. Ground up from the waist down. "You can take me," he said. "If you can catch me," he smirked. Planted a heavy kiss. Twisted his tongue in her mouth. Little spirals about that wet little eel she kept behind her teeth. Dipped too deep. But how he wanted all of her. Inside and out.

Bit her across the lips. Pushed off. "Ready?" he smiled. Looked at her through hooded lids. "One," let his arms drag down. Hips moved with her. Squished. Poked. Ground. "two..." trembled off his lips. "Three," let go.
 
Nostrils flared. Faster than her? Not possible. She was the fastest, her mentor told her so. If she transformed now, he'd see how her body was meant to run, legs long and powerful so she looked like she was skating across the ground. She opened her mouth, sucking in the wisp of his words. His hold on her tightened; she felt fingers pressed into bone, flesh thinning. Every movement was forceful, confident, recalcitrant groping and holding that would go unpunished -- she praised it instead. Her gasp was genuine surprise. Her moan was pleasant.

The back of her head against the stone hurt, but that pain was dulled by his hips. Aysel closed her eyes and spread her legs, letting him dip his hips fully into hers. His heavy kiss was met with her esurient tongue, her body cascading against him, matching his tempo, their kiss the maestro for how their bodies danced, like seaweed swaying under water. She wanted to lift up her dress, to pull her layers down her thin legs before hitching a thigh up on his hip.

His bite shocked her back to reality. They were still in public. Bedroom eyes somnolently regarding him, lungs begging for air as her chest heaved. She shook the drowsiness off by looking away from him. Her core was pulsing, molten hot. Aysel wanted him grinding against her, humping her helplessly like she was a bitch in heat. Her body certainly felt hot enough for her to consider if it was possible.

"Run," ragged breath, voice hoarse, panting like it was the middle of summer in a desert, and she was parched. She saw her Oasis swallowed by shadows, only to reappear under moonglow. Aysel chased after her oasis, feet slapping hard against the ground, staccato matching her heartbeat, like a monster after fresh blood. Head empty, instinct taking over. Hers. He would be hers. His scent held in her salivating mouth. She didn't see him, only his scent, red as lust.
 
Run,

A groan through grinned teeth. Mismatched eyes too heavy with all the want to tear each other apart with tooth and nail, and every bone that wanted to press and beat and work against each other.

He could taste it on his tongue. Feel it pulsing through his fingers and his toes. Gripped her one last time. Pressed himself against her with a snap of his teeth just above her mouth. Turned and broke against the shadow, and into the night.

Where he was going. Who the fuck knew. He just knew he had to show her. Prove it. That he was faster. Stronger. Better.

No way he would lose. Half naked as he was, robes snapping behind him as they were. Breath jetting in streams and plumes that coulda belonged to a shroud engine for how hard and fast he was chuggin down the winter streets.

Hands bladed, legs stretching, feet reaching, Turned a tight one. Looked back. Saw her turn just as tight. Obsession burned in her eyes. He grinned the wider. The wilder. Saw how she ran. A beast wearing a pretty girl's skin. She thrashed towards him. Lupine in how her limbs flexed and sprung.

He growled as he twist his head back. Dug in deeper. Sprint harder. No way. No way he would lose to her!

Didn't matter how quickly she closed the gap. Or how those slobbering fangs he saw hanging from her pretty mouth turned him on. HE HAD TO WIN.
 
Aysel’s nostrils flared, her chest raising in tandem with her stride. What was once perfect and erect had turned into the posture of a hungry beast, the monsters mothers warned their children about. Shadows hid the two of them, the moons sought after them when they were in the open, the tall buildings not able to shield them from the light. The Beast Moon’s sharp grin cut through its smooth exterior, smiling down at their playful chase.

She couldn’t contain her giggles any longer, her delighted snarls echoing in the tight alleyways. She jumped over a box, soaring so high she felt her brain get crushed by her heart. Fingers spread wide in the way, touching the underbelly of a soft breeze, scraping the underside of the night. She landed with a thunder clap, heels hard against the stone as if to split them open. Aysel was running again, laughing through her teeth, gray eyes wide and crazy for her prey.

“I’m going to get you,” Aysel proclaimed loudly into the night. “I’m going to have you. You’re gonna be mine.” She reached out for his cloak, could almost feel it teasing her, just nearly out of reach. Aysel couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun, running freely, running unbridled, running like the wolf she was. “Faster,” she demanded of Spirit Eyes. “Faster!” She snarled.
 
Bigger and bigger. Larger and larger. Louder and louder. She loomed as the pair of them zoomed down the stonework streets. Thunder in her heels. Fire in her steps. Her breath in his ear. Hot as smoke and cinders with each greedy gulp he sucked down his throat.

Could almost feel her fingertips grab at him. Wondered what those nails might feel like.

Laugh that rippled through her, sounded through his bones, and had him quivering hard down the spine as his feet found each step as fast as she told him. Her voice all snarl and lash. Sharp sting in his ears that sounded so sweet as it sank into the marrow between his ears.

"Yeah, right!" he shot back.

Like she could catch him. Like she could.

His toe stubbed a brick. Sticking just a smidge higher than the rest. He tumbled. He fell. He crashed in a heap that just kept on rolling until his skin and bones had banged and scraped enough against the ground for him to come stop.

Tuts of the tounge. Choked breaths that were all he could do to hang on. Keep from screaming his sticky defeat. Red trails oozing from the rash where shoulder and elbow and chest rubbed so raw his skin went pop. Only a little bit though. Not enough to stop him.

He stumbled back up.

"Fucking brick," he said as he shoved himself up onto his feet. He hobbled to get away as he grabbed at one of the spots that eeked blood out in dark trail.

Heart still hammering. Pulse still pounding.

He snapped his eyes towards her. "I ain't lost to you yet!" he grunt out.
 
Lips parted to fill her mouth with his blood, her commonsense ebbing away as a lovely sensation began to fog her mind, thickening her tongue against her teeth. Her ribs and pelvis felt heavy and Aysel bent beneath the weight of desire. Her prey kept running but she had stopped following him, kneeling at the smear on the stone, hardly damp though it stained the ground.

"Wow," Aysel breathed, globs of drool splattering around the lovely splotch in the shape of a petal. She stroked it as if it were as soft as velvet, looked up to see his mix-matched eyes steady on her. He was hurt, a hare with a bad foot. Defenseless. Delicious. She stood to her full slight slowly, like a shadow stretching out during sunset.

"Your blood has a metalic sweetness, your sweat is salty," Aysel took a step towards him. "And your mess," She grinned, showing him her glinting teeth. "Is bitter. Like that sandwich." A breathy giggle and a hiccup, another step, hands reaching out towards him. "Come here, let me lick it better." Another big step, knees still bent, waiting for him to turn our run. Waiting for him to concede and come to her like he wanted to - she could smell it on him.
 
Mismatched eyes stared wide. Breath trembled through heavy tongued throat. A gulp.

"Yeah right," he rasped through quivering lips which he licked as he took a half step back. Never minded the sting across his knee. The red rash on his shoulder where little bits of stone gravel stuck into strawberry red flesh glistened like little black seeds. Sprinkled so gingerly over the glisten of dark bloody glaze. "As if, AS IF I WOULD LOSE TO YOU!" He snapped with a growl and a bite, fingers clutching desperate at his hurt arm.

He tried to turn. Ran. Hard, heavy and fast.

Least. He tried. He tried to run. Teeth grit. Stomach tight. Blood pooling.
 
A slow, long, dumbfounded blink. He wasn't going to let her lick his blood? She hiccupped, senses being jostled back into her foggy head. She wiped the drool off her lips with the back of her hand. Another thought began to fill her mind, one that made her move her feet forward, her eyes focusing on nothing but the back of his head.

If he wouldn't let her taste him then she'd take him for herself, her prey, her toy, hers to do as she pleased. And the beautiful fool, running as fast as he could now, his blood filling the air and her nostrils, thinking he could get away from her. Her staggering steps began to pick up speed, the tempo increasing with each beat of her heart. Hands outstretched, fingers reaching out, her tongue dancing behind her lips. For him, it was all for him.

"Lose? Fuck you," Aysel was grinning, catching up, her prey sluggish and clumsy, like he was still growing into his feet. When she was close enough, she leaped like a beast, taking hold of his robe pulled it back, ripping it off his shoulders, laughing as it tore, threads coming loose. Her laugh echoed between the tall alleyways, shadows reverberating with each delighted cackle. Her heart was racing.

"Oops." Aysel heaved, lunging towards Diaz again, planning to pin him down to the dirty floor, to make him regret not letting her clean his wounds. If that's how he wanted to be then she'd smother his wounds in garbage and dirt, watch them fester with glee. If he thought Aysel catching him was losing then she'd make him feel like the biggest loser alive.
 
Ripped to strips and torn right off. The pull of her grip pulled him right down with a slam and a thump. Cold and dark as the stars spun about. Shadows beneath him, a warm pool against his bare skin. While flesh stung and sparked where blood ran heavy as it eked out in oozes and pumps that dribbled and trailed.

He kicked, he bucked. Back arched, stomach tight. Her claws dug into his wrists as she clamped down. Slammed down the weight of her, hot and heavy in all those layers of coat.

He growled. Twist. Tried to get up in the bump and grind between them. Sparks wherever meat met bone that kindled a wanting heat for more. He pant as he thrashed against her. Made a sound too much like he liked it that turned to a laugh.

"What the hell are you going to do now," he growled, tense through the neck as his eyes caught hers. "Aysel?" grinned. "You caught me," he said, breath all poured out. "I lost," the word almost ached out of him. As all the hot meat of his nethers twitched and throbbed against the warm round press of her. Steaming.
 
Nails dug in like bramble thorns catching on silk, little crescent moons deep into his soft wrists. His flesh was warm, warmer yet as Aysel straddled him like the bully she was. He could fight her all he wanted to if it made him feel better, she wasn't letting her prize go. Aysel lowered herself onto him, grinning and grinding as if she needed to get on him just right, pin his body beneath her just right. She didn't want him to stay still, only for him to stretch himself into her, to conform to her slender shape.

Her tongue was heavy as she lifted up his arms to pin his wrists symmetrical to his head, like a dame in distress. Aysel leaned down as he laughed and she laughed with him, their voices a presentient melody that echoed long into the dirty, dark alley. A place where people threw trash, a place that people avoided, unsightly stage, only rats and cats, moons and stars their audience.

"You lost," Aysel agreed with a low growl humming in her throat. A curtain black hide half half her face as hot breath announced the arrival of a tender kiss on his chest. "I am faster than you." Wicked smile flirted with her lips before she made to soothe his ego with the lap of her tongue over the prickled scrape of red. Blood was already drying, an indelible perfume that would always have her turn her head towards him with another sniff. Another lick, and another, her heart beating fast as she held his wrists in place, moving to his shoulder to taste the hurt, the failure.

Aysel let go of her trophy, slowly tipping back until all her weight were on her knees, hips angled as she arched her back. She lifted up the skirts of her dress before planting herself onto the part of him he so desperately rubbed into any part of her body. So little layers now, like a sandwich with only a few thin slices of paper-thin meat. Her face softened as her hips twitched towards his. Soft, little nudges that failed to convey the desire deep in her belly, a hunger like she hadn't had her fill of sandwiches and flavor and mess.

"Your punishment... is your name." Aysel said at last, looking down at him, hands resting on his stomach as if they might sink into him and to rip into him like she did to his stained robes.
 
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