The burning embarrassment mollified slightly at her velvet-lipped caresses along his neck. The dampness on her muzzle mingled with the sweat on his hide, a sensual melding that pulled at his desire— but also rekindled his shame’s flame. “Temb, love, what are you sorry for?” He still did not, could not, meet her eyes, despite feeling the pleading brush of her own beautiful cerulean pools along his face. A deep breath expands his massive chest, “I’ve never… not finished… Or not been able to… satisfy my woman…” The halting, humiliated rumble faded to nothing between on the mirror of the Flats. But he did not look down— he did not want to see his reflection. Their reflection.

A princess and an Elephant, so odd a pair. Drawn to each other like moths to a flame, yet burning each other alive with their lust. It was too much, this was too much. He shouldn’t have succumbed to his need for her. Too much had happened today: the battle, his wounds, her hallucinations and healing. Now, his impotence. This was his fault.

”You did what I asked for…” Had he? Her words broke through his spiraling thoughts, as they always did. His blue eyes, lightened from their previous passionate darkness, finally shifted to his gilded princess. They skirted her probing gaze, instead drifting over the many marks he had left on her neck. At first glance, the merest trappings of satisfaction bloomed in his barrel. She was his, and it was plain for any stallion see, stamped on her beautiful neck with his teeth. The gold and cream of her hide gleamed over the red love-bites.

But, on close inspection, his eyes found her puffy red withers, where he had bitten down so hard the moment his mind had rebelled on him and their sensual actions. Guilt flooded him, drowning his short-lived triumph of marking her as his. Slowly his muzzle stretched out, lips hovering and barely tracing the swelling, porcelain skin. Warm breath gently breathed over the blossoming bruise, “I did as you asked— as I wanted— but now look at this,” his low voice was quiet, nearly beaten.

He took his head away from her shoulders, away from her. Fear stirred in him, feeding on the shame and guilt. He didn’t perform for her, he marked her, and her mind turned him into a monster of her past. What was left for them? Did she still want him?

Finally, finally, his shaken blue gaze met her own, filled with silent questions.