Crimson is walking through the woods, his eyes darting to every sound his ears pick up. He is walking through the woods, the leafs crunching against his shoes. He runs and hand through his tousled dark red hair until he picks up a scent. A strong scent, to the smell he darts towards it the loud sound of footsteps echoing through the trees. Crimson stops in his tracks when he comes across a werewolf, immediately he ducks under a bush
Crimson looks around, seeing that the werewolf figure is gone. Suddenly, he feels a breath on his neck. "What are you looking for?" Crimson is startled and immediately looks back, seeing a werewolf girl with brown fur, green eyes and loose clothes. A fang of hers was showing in that smile of hers, which made Crimson's blood boil.
"What the hell is it to you?" he hisses angrily through clenched teeth. His fangs elongate as blood begins to pump faster through his veins. "I could end you right now." He's tempted, so very much. The girl in front of him doesn't seem to react to the threat, though her body is tense and ready for a fight. This only enrages Crimson more. He narrows his eyes at her. "Why don't you just leave?"
The wolf girl smiles at Crimson and walks over, giving him a rose. "Can we be friends? I found this rose on my way here."
His lips curl into a snarl as he sees her hand outstretched with the rose. "Don't you dare fucking touch me." His voice is cold and deadly, but she merely tilts her head, brow furrowed in confusion. He clenches his fists at his sides, struggling to control the rage that threatens to consume him entirely. The sharp nails of one hand extend further as they press against his palm, feeling them scrape against flesh and bone. "Just leave. Before I change my mind," he growls through gritted teeth.
"You don't like the rose?" The girl asks, looking at the rose to see if there was anything wrong with it. She throws the rose on the floor and holds out her hand, hoping he will accept it. "Well, forget the rose. My name is Aislinn, what's yours?"
His crimson eyes narrow as he regards her outstretched hand. The name she just gave him barely registers; all he can focus on is the challenge in her stance and the faint scent of fear that clings to her. With a growl, he reaches out and grips her wrist tightly, pulling her close enough that their bodies brush against each other. "Crimson Brean," he hisses through clenched teeth. His other hand lifts up and trails across her cheek, cupping her jaw roughly as he forces her to meet his gaze. "And I don't want to be friends with a werewolf." The words come out harsh and clipped, laced with venom that burns like acid on his tongue.
"No? Why?" Crimson growls and Aislinn lowers her ears, placing her tail between her leg and making a pleading look. "Please?~"
Crimson's grip on her wrist tightens slightly as he gazes down at the small figure before him. The pleading look in her eyes only serves to further ignite his rage, making it difficult for him to think straight. He bites back a snarl and forces out a harsh laugh. "Because werewolves killed my parents, Aislinn."
His fangs elongate as he leans in closer still, breath warm against her cheek. "They took everything from me. And now I see you standing there... So pathetic and helpless..." He trails off, voice growing deeper and more menacing as his gaze hardens.
His other hand moves to cup her neck possessively, the thumb rubbing lightly over the pulse point beneath her jaw. The feeling of power surges through him at her submissiveness; he can taste it on his tongue
"But I'm not the wolves that killed your parents, I'm different. I don't like attacking vampires." Aislinn looks at Crimson's hand on her neck, then looks at him again.
Crimson scoffs dismissively. "They all say that, don't they?" he growls, letting his anger flow through him and heightening his senses even further. With a sharp tug, he pulls her roughly against his body, grinding their hips together as he savors the feel of her soft curves pressed against his hard frame. His fangs stretch impossibly long, threatening to pierce the skin of her neck if he were to speak again. "And besides," he whispers into her ear, "what does it matter what I believe?"
Crimson bites her neck, sucking her blood as she trembles in fright and her body tenses.
The taste of her blood is intoxicating, filling him with a power that surges through his veins like lightning. His fangs puncture deeper and his mouth presses harder against her throat as he drains her of every last drop. Her trembling becomes more intense, her body arching slightly backward in an attempt to get away from him but unable to break free. With a satisfied growl, he pulls his fangs from her neck and licks the blood from his lips, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure and arousal. "What do you think?" He murmurs darkly, the words sending a shiver down her spine. "Do I look like someone you should trust, Aislinn?"
Aislinn swallows and nods, her tail swishing back and forth behind her. Crimson smiles and caresses the curve of her neck with the tip of his nose, leaning against the tree and pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her waist.
The feel of her soft body pressed against him, the scent of her blood still on his lips... It's intoxicating. He cups her cheek with his free hand and tilts her head back so he can look deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of deceit or treachery. For a moment, it almost looks like she regrets their interaction. But then she shakes herself, blinking away whatever thoughts cloud her mind, and meets his gaze unflinchingly once more. It's enough to send a jolt of possessiveness through him; he wants her - all of her.
Without warning, Crimson Brean leans in, capturing Aislinn's lips with his own. His kiss is hard and demanding, sending shockwaves of desire throughout their bodies as they writhe together against the tree. He thrusts his tongue roughly into her mouth, tasting her blood m
Aislinn moans as Crimson sticks his tongue down her throat, arching against him and placing her hands on his shoulders, leaving him in control of the situation to do whatever he wants.
With each rough thrust of his tongue and moan that escapes her lips, Crimson feels himself losing control. He knows he should stop, remind himself why this is a bad idea... but the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips, the taste of her blood still on his tongue, they consume him utterly. A growl rumbles low in his throat as he breaks the kiss and trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and further south. He palms her breast through her loose shirt, massaging roughly before cupping it entirely, squeezing roughly as he sucks on a sensitive nipple. "Crimson..." Aislinn moans, arching into his touch even more, her hips grinding against him in rhythm with his hand and mouth. "Please..."