Who's King of the Junkyard?

He kept the 'fake' real smile in place as best he could, but inside Buster was chuckling devilishly. He knew he had her now, it wouldn't be long before she was putty in his paws, then he could make his real move. He let his brown gaze lock with her lidded blue. He really had to admit that she was as beautiful as ever. Had nothing had changed and they were still in the junkyard he wouldn't have minded keeping her around, he almost had to remind himself that he was going this to get back at Tramp and not just for the hell of it.

He wondered if she actually really knew what he wanted, it was obvious what he wanted to do with her now, but she'd never know what he truly wanted. He let his own eyelids slide to half-closed and let a sly smirk replace the smile. "Angel, if all I wanted was that I'd have taken it a long time ago. You should know as well as I do that if I want something I take it, no questions asked." He pulled back slightly, removing his paw from it's place on her back. It then lowered into a crouch his warm breath at her ear.

"I'm sure you've already heard this before, probably from me before, but there's somethin' special to ya. I dunno what, but it's there. Always was, always is. It's still there, I can see it in that look of yours." His tone was almost purred, as much of a purr as a canine could pull off anyway. "Angel, I'll just come right out and say this, I want ya to be my girl, just one night that's all I ask."

He knew it was risky to come right out with that, but if she was in as far as he thought she wouldn't refuse, after all he'd used the same line many times before back in the junkyard, it had worked then maybe it still had it's charm. He felt sure that she wouldn't pull away from him. Buster knew that his charm had worked then, and that it will work now.

One thing that could be said for Angel was that, internally, she was putting up a valiant fight. She knew what her mind wanted, and it wasn't to give into Buster; though her body's desires were altogether different. Still, she struggled, forcing herself to bring an image of Patch to mind. He'd be devastated if she betrayed him like this, she was sure of it; it might even drive him back to the villains, which was amongst the worst things Angel could imagine. For the dal's sake, she had to resist... she loved him... she couldn't do this...

And then Buster bent to whisper in her ear, and any chance of resisting evaporated. Angel had always hated yet loved the sensation of the big dobie-cross's maw brushing the most sensitive point at its base, his hot breath tickling her ear canal, murmuring the words of praise that from his lips, at any other time, she would have loathed, but when he was so close... she had always found it irresistable. The pom's body trembled from head to paw as she stepped in to Buster. She hated herself for what she was doing, hated, hated it... but also knew, somehow, that it had to be inevitable. She despised Buster so much that she loved him... without further conscious thought, Angel had craned her neck upwards and licked Buster's chin tenderly.

No, what are you doing? Remember Patch... You have to stop...

But I can't. I don't even know if I want to. Yes, I hate it, but... I must... have it...

Her eye swamp with tears of shame, while beneath her fur, her cheeks were flushed with lust. "Take me," she gasped.

The Dobbie's smirk turned devilish as the smaller dog trembled at his words. He had her. Hook, line and sinker. Buster didn't resist the urge to lick his lips at the look in her eyes. So filled with something he knew her mind didn't want, yet her body couldn't refuse. His eyes followed her as she moved closer, pushing lightly against his chest to lick the area beneath his chin. The Doberman couldn't suppress the shiver that worked it's way up his spine.

And then, she gasped out two words he'd honestly never thought he'd hear from her.

"Take me."

A cruel chuckle rumbled lowly in Buster's chest, as he slowly stepped around the smaller dog.

"That's my girl."