She opened her mouth to respond to him, but his touch on her ear rendered her utterly, maddeningly speechless. A trembling exhale was all that escaped her lips, tinged with a soft moan. The shudder of excitement was so powerful that it nearly overwhelmed her, but with concentrated effort she managed to suppress it to only a sensual flicker of her eyes and an arching of her spine. Her stomach did not fare as well, and flipped around her abdomen wildly, outmatched in erratic behavior only by her heart. She was still as he touched her aside from the tensing of her muscles, pressing into his touch and begging for its continuation. She yielded as he moved, watching every inch of him as he moved across her with a single, hungry eye.
His hot breaths radiated across her skin from their epicenter, moving like lightning to burn her alive. Enough time outside his mouth finally allowed her the clarity of mind to utter a single word. “Art,” came her answer, surprising herself with both the name itself- one that had long been scrubbed from her consciousness, or so she thought- and the ease with which it left her tongue. Even more surprising, she marveled for a moment in the lack of emotion that the name brought with it. It simply vanished into the night, dissipating with the heat that brewed between their bodies.
“And what, my hunter, should I call you?” She moved slowly forward as she finished the question, relishing the way that the smooth curve of his beak felt as it slid across her slick fur. The unspoken ending lingered only in her mind, too brash for the sweet rabbit to speak as she submitted to her captor. She stopped when she stood with her hip near his svelte jaw, tilted ever so slightly in his direction. She reveled in the way that every fiber of her being responded to his command, as if his control extended beyond the capabilities of her own mind. A breeze wrapped eager fingers though her hair, pulling it from her skin, making her feel for the slightest moment laid bare before him. An offering for the god of the moment. It wasn’t far from the truth that she was a delicacy in his eyes, and the hunger in his voice made that only clearer. But never did she shy from the feeling- the mare was never one to dismiss attention in the first place, but this was so much more delicious. She basked in his attentions, threw herself at the altar just for a second glance. Yet he was so much more than that- he was far from the only one to feast tonight. His name was the last bullet in a loaded gun, and she was cocked and ready to scream it into the autumn evening.
kinda meh but I'm rolling with the puns yo @[Sid]