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Hot springs! 0.66666666666667 66.7% [ 12 ]
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Total Votes:[ 18 ]
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Her whicked look only served to excite him further. To embolden him. It was obvious on his face, too. He knew it.

"The rules are," he began in a low voice. "If you get away, then you win. Nothing happens to you. But if I catch you, then I have my way with you, and you win anyway. Tempted?"

That was pretty much it. As he talked he freed his hands, moving them up her flanks. He raked the tips of his fingers along her sides making sure to keep his arms inside of hers so that, if hse decided to attack him, he woudl be in position to defend himself. And it gave him such an interesting feel of her.
Her eyes flash warningly at him as he moves his hands up her sides. She didn't much like to be touched by anyone. The rules he proposed were slightly disturbing, she would end up caught if he used his guns and she didn't fansy herself being put at someones mercy to do with what they please. She growls at him and slams her thighs on him, locking her legs bhind him and squeezing as tightly as she could. If she was lucky she would break a rib, if not she might get him to pass out.
The sudden preassure was not so much surprising to him for the manuver, but for the force behind it. He did not expect her to be so strong. But she would not be expecting him to be as strong as he is.

Her actions forced a grunt from his chest and winded him at first, but he reacted quickly. His hands went to grab her arms and hold them behind her back. His hands would slide down to her wrists to hold her arms steady and, possibly, with just one hand. As he did this he also leaned into her, moving to force her to lay back.

"Yes, that is the spirit! I knew you would enjoy this game."

Though she was mighty strong, his own muscles had been augmented many years ago. He had met very few people who where physically stonger than himself and he would savour the moment when she realized his advantage.
She growls at him as he restrains her hands. She squeezes tighter and tries to free her arms. When he adds weight to her forcing her to lay down she furrows her brow. This was not good, he wasn't supposed to be so strong. She forces herself upward a bit against his weight and snaps at him as she does. Then rocks backward, curiling her spin so that she would flip all the way over, picking him up off the floor with the strength of her legs alone. She strains and finally flips over the edge of the counter and slams him into the floor. She grabs her dagger and places it by his neck still with her thighs squeezing him, though she moved up to his chest instead of his waist. She smirks arrogantly and adds pressure to the blade.

I think not..
McKlain was now excited. Oh, very much so. He loved being taken by surprise by dangerous women. Although he could do without being slammed to the floor.

The moment he felt her blade on his neck his right arm came up to grab her wrist. It was a varitable blur that had a decent chanse of connecting, given the fact that she seemed like she didn't want to kill him outirght. Once grabbing her hand, assume he landed it, he would force it back as he leaned into the blade, allowing him to lift himself up slightly while letting the blade break his skin.

Soon after his left hand wraps around her body to snag her long, braided hair and tug on it. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to pull her head back and let her know that she was not dealign with some feeble pup fresh from the teet.

"This contest is far from over, Mistress. But I must ask what I am dealing with. What are you?"

He seemed excited moreso than scared. Again, this was partly to antaganize her. But he was also really just excited.
She growls at him but quickly stops as her hair is tugged on and her head force backward. She still holds the blade, though her arm is restrained. She snarls slightly and turns the dagger in her hand to point downward. She then tries to stick him in the hand with it to get free.

I'm a half breed..

She smirks, not just yet willing to indulge him as to her race. She liked to keep things to herself though at the moment she was in a pradicament. She squeezes her thighs tighter together and intends on cracking a rib or two.
McKlain let the blade bite into his flesh. It would meet far more resistance than if she were cleaving normal muscle tissue. But the moment she drew his blood he tightened his grip on her forearm, applying increasing preassure until she was unable or unwilling to continue assaulting him. If that took breaking her, then so be it. As far as the pain on his part went, he didn't so much as flinch at the cut. If you had been watching his face you would not have seen it register there.

It was becoming harder to breath but he still had time on his side. He would likely be sore after this no matter what he did.

"A half breed of what," he put effort into making his voice sound no more strained than if he were not having his lungs compressed. And he managed to maintain that undertone of feral, preditory desire.
She opens her mouth in a silent scream as he adds presure to her wrist. She grits her teeth and flings the dagger town at his chest, either it would stab him or cut him fairly well. She releases her thighs for a momement then slams them tightly to him once more, this time with more force.

Lycan.. half lycan..

She growls and struggles to get her wrist free even more. She then grabs her small pistol from her cleavage and points it at him. She cocks it and places her fingers on the trigger ready to fire. She smirks wondering what he would do now. If he let og of her wrist she could take up her dagger and slice his throat and should he let go of her hair to try and grab her hand she could easily pull the trigger.
As strong as he was, once he decided she was not going to move, she wouldn't. She wreched her hand, tyring to stab at him and break away, but managed only to nudge his arm an inch or two. It was not fair, but it was how he was. Bred to fight and augmented out of necesity, even if he benefited from it in close-in combat.

When she moved to slam his chest again he took the opritunity to draw a lung full of air. The double hammerblow took him about as roughly as he had predicted, forcing air from his lungs and causing his bones to creek.

And then he decided that he had underestimated her. She did, in fact, have a gun. Fortunantly, she was still trying to toy with him. That more than anything saved his life at this critical moment.

He could not grab that hand in time, nor would it be wise to release her knife hand. So, instead of releasing her hair, he moved her knife hand to teh side to knock her aim off and force that arm out. As that motion ended, he released her hair and brought that hand around to grab at her gun wrist. If he succeeded, then he would combine her wrists into his left hand and hold her that way.

"Lycan hybrid... It has been some time sense I tasted one of those."
She knocks her own arm and smirks as she now had a chance. She fires the gun at his right shoulder before he could grab both wrists and hold her. She drops the pistol as it was now useless. She had no other bullets with her for she did not expect to use it. She chuckles and licks her lips.

So what now..
This earned a wince from him. For McKlain, getting shot had lost is novelty at about the second time it ever happened to him. Oh yes, it hurt. But there was only so much damage a Derrenger could do, especially against muscles augmented by strengthened myomer bundles.

The bullet penetrated his skin but got caught in his flesh. It would be easy to extract later, if painful. But he had the "toughness" trait so, in theory, he could muscle through this easily enough.

Looking up at her like a King in chess who had just cornered the opposing team's Queen, his grin took on a much darker intent.

"Now," he said as he held her arms up over her head. His right hand slid down to interject between her thigh and his chest, forcing her leg apart and, although not alleveating all the preassure, allowng himself to breath in again. "Now I decide what I want to do with you."
Lucianne growls at him and snaps at him, even though she was far away. She smirks and releases him, allowing him to breath as she worms her way up his chest. Seemed sexual but she had a plan, once far enough up she forces herself up to her feet and smirks.

Hmmn what will you do to me..

She then jumps up and plants her knees squarely into his gut with all her force. She wouldn't go without a fight and she sure as well wasn't looking foreward to being at his mercy.
Though he was loving her resistance, she was trying on his patience. He precieved a threat from her working her way to her feet. And the intent in her eyes was clear as his tempered-steel hold on her wrists.

As soon as he saw her jump into the air he tugged her arms to his left. His right arm shot up to slap her legs in the same direction, thus diverting her knees. He was under no illusions as to his ability to take such a blow, nor did he desire to take the blow. As he manuvered her with his arms he brought his knees up to catch whatever he could not redirect, then rolled to his left with her.

If done just right this would put him on top of her. To avoid giving her an open shot to his crotch, he would sit on her hips. And to avoid letting her cleave him with her claws, he would lean down and pin her hands to the floor 'above' her. This would leave him with one free hand, wit which he could do whatever he wanted.

Catching hsi breath, he replied. "First, I would pin you to the floor...."
She laughs as she lands on her back and looks up at him. She quirks a brow at his breathing and smirks.

You seem out of breath...

She growls and extends her claws slightly and digging them into his wrist as she tries to force her arms free. She spreads her legs and brings them up to hook around this neck. She pulls him backward with her legs and at the same time tries to sit up as well.

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