"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood."
― George Orwell, 1984
Jinx finally had her at her mercy.
Her teeth were pressed as hard into her neck as the hexcaster could manage when the psion moaned.
Loudly.
And so utterly guttural that it was both decadent and vulgar.
She released her oral hold on the psion and pulled her head up far enough to see the empath was taken aback, and afraid.
Jinx almost didn't stop herself from chuckling, but, feeling bad for the girl she slid her knee further and allowed her weight to fall onto the empath's abdomen while she gave the girl's arm a jarring twist.
The gasps in reply settled in the pit of Jinx's stomach as she smiled.
She understood the game now.
With a feral smile she bit as hard as her bruised jaw would allow.
