"I wonder what she tastes like... what she feels like?" Fenrir growls and snaps as saliva drips from his jowls. A shiver runs the length of Ivar's spine as he imagines taking her for his own, just to remind her that she does not make the rules in the Lagoon. He craves to feel her beneath him and to taste her on his lips. None of these things were in the name of love but pure lust and consuming hunger. A smirk traces his dark lips as she speaks, taunting and beckoning the wolf to feast on her flesh.

"If you want woman, I can just force you," he growls darkly as snakes his teeth across the sliver of space to place a hard nip on her exposed flesh. He craves to draw her blood and see it trickle down her flesh, staining her silvery coat red. A wicked sneer crawls across his lips. "I want to taste you on my lips," he growls menacingly.

He takes notice of her eyes wandering the length of his body, and takes this as an invitation to let Fenrir consume her flesh with his own eyes. The wolf growls and hungrily consumes her curves. Fenrir moans and protests against Ivar's control, he wants to feel her soft flesh, to hear her screams echo in the trees around them, and make her struggle. But her words draw him from his dark thoughts.

"I like it when you beg," he grunts, his words barely audible. "I don't need a pet name, I am Ivar úlfur kappi," he says as his dark eyes narrow on her. "And you are trinket... a plaything that I will do with as I wish," he craves for her to cower next to him. He craves to see the fear in her eyes and to hear her beg for her freedom.