10-02-2025, 01:42 AM
Once upon a time, Sabretooth would have welcomed any sort of aggression thrown his way. Violent aggression would be met with equally violent ends to those who decided to test his patience. Claws and teeth were used in tandem to rend anyone to pieces; to spill their intestines upon the ground; to hear the gurgle of their last dying breaths as he looked them in the eyes, claws in their throat. Carnal aggression, though, was a different matter. Few had the stamina and durability to withstand his form of mating, and he had found few who sufficed. But standing there with his claws in her hips, her legs around him, his head pulling slightly back as she jerked at his hair, he smirked, fangs showing over his bottom lip from under the top.<br><br>The tap to his chin was delightful.<br><br><b>"What makes you think you can handle me?"</b> Quickly he sheathed one of his claws, reaching down between her legs to press insistently upon the knot of pleasurable nerves gathered before her folds, growling low in his throat as he threatened that spot with the tip of one claw. He wasn't going to hurt her in that way, had no desire to be cruel or capricious about it. He knew what he wanted. What did she want? The evidence of her words only served to push him forward, settling the edge of her backside upon the prep table as he removed that clawed digit, reaching for his belt to pull it open, the zipper of his jeans coming next.<br><br><b>"Should we see?"</b> Another growl, then a chuffing sound he couldn't help, reacting in such a way he knew the animal part of him—what made him feral—desired her. Craved her. Wanted to <i>own</i> her. But Mystique was not a woman easily taken, and certainly not one to be owned. The growl continued low in his throat, moving down to his chest and reverberating as he pressed forward into her, her breasts against the fabric of his shirt. Couldn't feel them but he knew they were there.