That's all he manages to groan out as she snatches herself away, leaving him with nothing but cold air and the pulsing of his blood. The little voice in the back of his mind wonders whether this is her intention, her final punishment for every ounce of hurt he's inflicted on her - to give him the bluest of balls and then leave him hanging and empty in her wake. He smothers the thought, sure that the Mountain would not be so cruel, and also sure that she can't act quite this well.

No sooner has this unpleasant thought entered his head than Isopia disappates it with a lifting of her lips to his ear, making the groan turn to another amorous growl. Again, the words seem so unlike her, and all the more arousing for it. That little voice pipes up again, wondering if the mare has learned these new flirting techniques from another lover, another man deemed worthy enough to mount her. The thought makes red spots glow in front of the beast's eyes as jealousy and rage mingle into one and bubble through his entire body, stomping one massive forehoof as though to crush the head of this unknown man beneath the feathered bulk. He forces the voice aside, reminding himself that nobody else will touch his Isopia, that they wouldn't dare, and that his musings might be unreasonable but are no less real for that fact.

He wants her to be his and only his, at the same time that he shares his body around with anybody who catches his fancy. It's hypocritical, selfish and avaricious in the extreme, but the goliath is seemingly incapable of acknowledging this. All he knows is that the thought of another man touching the Mountain is enough to make his blood boil and his head spin, although thankfully the blast of anger is only temporary. He returns to the present, forces aside all other thoughts, and focuses on the scent of her, the sight of her, the touch of her.

Again he bends easily to her command, his eyes seeking to lock forcefully upon hers as he replies. "I want you." His voice is even deeper than it usually is, barely more than a growl, an animalistic noise that betrays the uncontrollable pulsings of desire that thrum through his entire body. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything" It is not a lie - after all, Volterra does not and cannot lie. Right here, right now, he would forgo everything he owns just to have this night with Isopia. He'd leave his herd, his possessions, his magic, everything, just to be with this beautiful giantess right now. In the morning when the fire has left his blood he'll marvel at the stupidity of such a thought, and remind himself that no woman is worth giving up all of that for, but right now he's well and truly caught in her honey trap. He's a slave to her body, and that is quite a new experience for him.

The Indomitable rather likes this new Isopia, this wanton sex goddess with her demands and her tantalising touches. She knows what she's doing, she knows what she wants, and she knows how to drive him wild.

Her wings are a barrier between them, and reluctantly the stallion ceases his attempts to press closer. Even though it's almost painful to do so, he hauls his bulk another step backwards, tearing him away from her air, her touch, her smell. "Your turn." His sense of pride cannot let this be so one sided; him begging her, her keeping him at arm's length and teasing until she's through with him. No, they are equals as they've always been, and Volterra can give as good as he gets.