It is always a game of cat and mouse with her. Always her response is more cunning and soothes the bastard beast that lingers in his core. She taunts him, reminding him that she had more to play with than he did and to this he could not help but to chuckle. Despite himself he knew that this was true. She always had a way of tangling him tighter into her web of razor blade thorns. Excitement boiled beneath his skin as her coy gaze traveled over the curves of his own body. How long had it been since last he felt those intense eyes upon his skin, the look of fierce independence in her eyes and the fire in her loins.

He chases after her, reveling in the feel of the ocean air against his skin, the slap of his sweat soaked mane as it thudded audibly against the thick curve of his neck. His teeth clenched the flesh of her withers, prepared to sink in deeper should she attempt to free herself of him. To his surprise, she does not. Her body tenses beneath him, as though she were determined to give him a good kick to the groin or attempt to shoot out from under him just when he began to get into the swing of things. But she does not. Her breath grows rapid and he too feels the sudden excitement as desire courses through his veins. He plunges himself into her, his forelimbs gripping tightly around her slender barrel as his release overcomes him. For a time he remains atop her, savoring the feel of their bodies merged as one, the sensation of having her accept him... accept his seed with an along willing excitement.

When finally he does allow himself to slide from her, he does not move far. Legs weak from release he breathes heavily against her skin, his lips pressing tenderly into the curve of her jaw. "I told you before I would know you... far better than you know yourself." he breathes, his fetid breath hot against her skin. He turns, his whiskered lips bumping tenderly against her flat barrel, his emerald eyes glittering. "Our child will grow strong and fierce... just like my queen." he murmurs. He had meant the words that spilled from his lips that day in the meadow. He was not sure if she remembered them, if she would even care, but none the less he had meant them. She was the fiery jewel that tamed the beast and soothed his soul. She was the kind curiousness that he could not manage and though she was still young he was certain she would become the same poised queen that Zjeena was for the Bay. "I made my choice." he breathes, his thick head draping over his spine now as he rested there, content in the closeness of her skin against his. He would not let her go. Never.