Shortly after she gets involved in the kissing game, she discovers that she quite likes to tug. She pulls hair, nibbles bottom lips, stretches skin between her teeth everywhere she lays her mouth. There's something thrilling in the way that slight edge of pain makes her partner gasp, every time. It takes her a few tries, but she learns how to read the signs, to learn if her kissing partner is interested in tugging. Nearly all of the time, they are, even if they aren't fully aware of it until she lets her fingers and teeth come out to play.
Her favorite thing, though, is the way her partners always reciprocate. It's called a tug-of-war for a reason, though before she got into the kissing game, she never realized how similar it would be to her favorite childhood game. Once she starts tugging on lips and pulling hair and scraping her teeth down collarbones, her partners respond in kind. She gasps when her hair is yanked; groans when her bottom lip is nibbled and teased and stretched until it snaps back into place and hits her teeth with a wet pop.
To her, it's a fair exchange: pleasure for advertisement of pleasure. She likes knowing that her partners are into slightly edgier makeout sessions, ones that can turn dirty with the slightest flick of the wrist or snap of the teeth. And her partners seem to like it when she's vocal about her passion, too. So she tugs. And they tug back. It's a war that no one wins, but the only casualties are little deaths and those are more than okay.