Jude’s eyes glitter as Ashhal spreads his wings, showing off just how big he can be. He moves with almost no effort, endlessly impressing and delighting his pink opponent. She glimmers and glows beneath his aggressive attention; her eyes pass over and over his form, imagining how she would strike his form if he would so let her.
Not once does Jude falter when the gray stallion draws ever closer.
She cannot say she predicted what Ashhal would do next, but she can say she was ready for it. When he launches toward - almost like a feline, oddly graceful for one so large - Jude steels herself against is might. Her ballerina frame is no match for his brutish strength, so she falls to shove and finds herself pinned to a tree. It is here that she realizes she has never met a match so equal: similar in deviance and defiance.
The rough bark of the tree scrapes unforgivingly against her side, breaking through her skin. The warmth of her blood causes her to gasp - she is trapped, out of control (how terrifying). Jude’s bones begin to ache beneath Ashhal’s weight - a feeling that is quickly masked by the teeth he digs into her delicate nape. At first she panics, shaking her head in an attempt to break her grip. His teeth only seem to drive deeper, though; it is that consuming pain that changes her panic to desirous determination.
Jude bucks, dragging her side against the bark in an attempt to break free. When she is still trapped, she whips her head around to bite his shoulder - this time she holds back nothing, clenching her jaw as if his skin were grass. The stuck mare leaves a trail of these bites, each harsher than the last.
When the tree leaves her skin raw, a feeling not entirely unwelcome, Jude hisses out, “I hope you can fuck me just as well.”
@[Ashhal]