[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; text-align: justify; margin-top: auto; line-height: 130%; width: 500px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"]Soft doe-brown eyes would remain on the main entrance of the complex, waiting to see the dainty frame of Coyote. It felt strange to label her his girlfriend, but he supposed that she was the closest thing to a girlfriend he'd ever had. He'd never openly asked her to be and probably never would. He preferred the silent understanding they shared in between themselves. Whether he obliged by the normal qualities a boyfriend was supposed to uphold was a different story. But for the most part, he did. He tried. Perhaps that's the reason why he always found himself drawn to the immensely devoted girl, he took pleasure basking in the perception that she only existed for him in spite of all his ugly flaws.
Ángel certainly was no stranger to obsession from women however, he tended to lure out the withdrawn primal and wanton feelings buried deep inside of unsuspecting women. It was more of a childish game he took great gratification in, it didn't matter if it took him days or months to beguile a woman he set his sights on. In the end when he decided he grew bored of them for one reason or another, the look of pure desolation was a euphoric high he could never get enough of. But something about Coyote made it significantly more difficult to discard her like he had the others.
At last, he caught a glimpse of pristine ashen blonde hair curled to perfection. Many of times did Ángel's cohorts hesitantly inquire about her scantily attires so as to not offend him but he never minded on what she chose to wear. He was rarely if ever threatened by other males, especially when it came to women. If Coyote ever felt uneasy by anyone's lasting stare, she knew that he would handle it within seconds would she only ask. Besides, he relished in the desire oozing from others practically as much as she did. He knew that all they could ever do was stare, meanwhile Ángel knew that at the end of the night Coyote would be in his luxurious bed, not theirs.
Her intoxicating scent flooded his senses as soon as she stepped into the smokiness of his car, mingling with the thick smell of weed pleasantly. His warm honeyed eyes met with her dark pools of glistening brown that seemed to only shine for him. He took in the entirety of her ghostly, moonlit beauty. How the trimmed lace of her top seemed to tighten at just the right angles. Ángel knew there laid a nestled carnal darkness beneath her angelic silhouette, which he craved that much more every time they were torn from each other.
"Missed you,"
"Thank you, baby,"
He swallowed harshly, mirroring her soft smile with his own and nodding briskly in response to her gratitude. He leaned into the warmth of her silky touch and kiss. After having been around gruff, unsightly men all day, he welcomed her tender femininity. His ravaging gaze drifted over to her chest, lingering a bit longer than it should while paying little mind to the top itself. Nonetheless, he grinned, "It looks pretty, baby," he responded and reached forward to trail a section of stray hair towards her back, cold and calloused fingers brushing against the nape of her neck briefly. Vocals of rough gravel with fiery enticement spoke again, "I hope you're hungry. My boy set us up with an appointment at some fancy Brazilian steakhouse. Apparently fucking hard to get into." He then retracted his hand back onto the leather steering wheel while resting his other arm along the back of Coyote's seat. The matte black hellcat then screeched into motion, leaving a cloud of smoke in their wake as he sped down the street towards the upscale steakhouse, glancing occasionally at his lovely passenger.
Ángel certainly was no stranger to obsession from women however, he tended to lure out the withdrawn primal and wanton feelings buried deep inside of unsuspecting women. It was more of a childish game he took great gratification in, it didn't matter if it took him days or months to beguile a woman he set his sights on. In the end when he decided he grew bored of them for one reason or another, the look of pure desolation was a euphoric high he could never get enough of. But something about Coyote made it significantly more difficult to discard her like he had the others.
At last, he caught a glimpse of pristine ashen blonde hair curled to perfection. Many of times did Ángel's cohorts hesitantly inquire about her scantily attires so as to not offend him but he never minded on what she chose to wear. He was rarely if ever threatened by other males, especially when it came to women. If Coyote ever felt uneasy by anyone's lasting stare, she knew that he would handle it within seconds would she only ask. Besides, he relished in the desire oozing from others practically as much as she did. He knew that all they could ever do was stare, meanwhile Ángel knew that at the end of the night Coyote would be in his luxurious bed, not theirs.
Her intoxicating scent flooded his senses as soon as she stepped into the smokiness of his car, mingling with the thick smell of weed pleasantly. His warm honeyed eyes met with her dark pools of glistening brown that seemed to only shine for him. He took in the entirety of her ghostly, moonlit beauty. How the trimmed lace of her top seemed to tighten at just the right angles. Ángel knew there laid a nestled carnal darkness beneath her angelic silhouette, which he craved that much more every time they were torn from each other.
"Missed you,"
"Thank you, baby,"
He swallowed harshly, mirroring her soft smile with his own and nodding briskly in response to her gratitude. He leaned into the warmth of her silky touch and kiss. After having been around gruff, unsightly men all day, he welcomed her tender femininity. His ravaging gaze drifted over to her chest, lingering a bit longer than it should while paying little mind to the top itself. Nonetheless, he grinned, "It looks pretty, baby," he responded and reached forward to trail a section of stray hair towards her back, cold and calloused fingers brushing against the nape of her neck briefly. Vocals of rough gravel with fiery enticement spoke again, "I hope you're hungry. My boy set us up with an appointment at some fancy Brazilian steakhouse. Apparently fucking hard to get into." He then retracted his hand back onto the leather steering wheel while resting his other arm along the back of Coyote's seat. The matte black hellcat then screeched into motion, leaving a cloud of smoke in their wake as he sped down the street towards the upscale steakhouse, glancing occasionally at his lovely passenger.
DRAG MY TEETH ACROSS YOUR CHEST TO TASTE YOUR BEATING HEART
MY FINGERS CLAW YOUR SKIN, TRY TO TEAR MY WAY IN
MY FINGERS CLAW YOUR SKIN, TRY TO TEAR MY WAY IN