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Her hoof thuds into its desired area, and the primal delight of battle floods through her. This is the euphoria she can only gain through two acts - fighting, and fucking. The possibility of both in one, glorious day...perhaps it had been worth wandering into the frigid north after all. He is a worthy opponent, one she would dearly love to tangle with on a proper battlefield, but there's that wicked little growl in the back of her mind that urges her to simply throw the fight and submit, so they can get to the good part.
She doesn't want to exhaust the poor lad, after all, not before he can satisfy her. The General returns her foot swiftly to the ground, although it slips teasingly on the snow as though taunting her with the possibility of falling over; his teeth release her, and the bruise where they rested is nothing compared to the aching loss she feels at their absence. His weight crunches against her side again, and her balance - compromised from the latter stages of her cow-kick - finally fails her completely. His teeth, peppering their hot, forceful kisses across wither, leg, knee, only add insult to injury as she feels herself falling. Ordinarily, tumbling during a battle would fill her with hateful rage, as it's a death knell in any fight; in this one, her stomach gives a sick little lurch of pleasure, knowing that he's defeated her. Knowing that she's his to do with as he pleases. Knowing that what he pleases will please her, too. Her leg pisses blood down its length, as the unfortunate angle of their tangle meant his teeth sunk unusually deep; the pain is delicious, and the snow turns a sickly pink. She manages to struggle back to all fours, but her head is hung in submission, her back hunched and defeated - in an ordinary fight, Nyx would still try to soldier on despite the ache in her knees and the humiliation of the fall, but this is no ordinary fight. This is a battle where losing is far, far better than winning. So she loses. She swings her haunches around, placing them square in front of them, tail flickering and inviting. She is his to feast upon, to ravage, to own. Her mind erects strong barriers to force aside Dominus' presence - he is still trying his level best to dissuade her, pointing out that this is not worth all the possible consequences, except he knows nothing, because it is. The poor, virgin predator cannot possibly understand the euphoria his bonded is about to experience, and selfishly, wickedly, she blocks him out so that he cannot share it with her. This is hers and hers alone...and the twisted-horned stranger, of course. The silver soldier stands still for her grey-eyed victor, and waits. |
@Reginald
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
