[ her breath hitches when his nails dig into her knees, the pain tolerable, but not enough for her to keep from reacting. she can feel the warm liquid trickling down her bare legs, the hand on his horn gripping tightly now, running her nails along its curve. ]

Hmm.

[ she brushes her other hand along his neck, tracing her fingers along the skin almost lazily, keeping her composure as best as she can ]

A needy, desperate, fallen from grace angel that no one takes seriously. Reaching too hard to be the supervillain that you know is beyond your grasp. You really are your father's son, aren't you?