If he is going to try to break her then he will need to try harder.
There is a raw violent beauty in the way he curves himself over her, that dark storm cloud moving over the brilliance of the sun. His teeth tear at her skin and she snarls in response, throwing her head back with wild abandon whenever he lingers too long. The pain mingles amongst the pleasure but there is a fire in her, something different than the rising heat between her loins. She knows what he is doing. The whispered remains of words she had said earlier. I don’t belong to you…
Would he like to be owned by her? Perhaps one day she would make him bow on bended knee to her, perhaps she would rest the long cloudy spiral across his shoulder as a Queen would her most trusted knight. But right now… Right now he is rumbling across her back and laying waste to the beauty of her pristine skin and as she snarls again she shifts into something else, no longer the coy beauty he had come to know. She is the creature whose spots highlight the curve of her neck, whose golden eye is something savage and fierce when it catches the thunder in his gaze.
She is not the sultry temptress. She is a tempest and the Amazonian in her detonates as her hooves slip across the smooth pebbles of the river and the current drags her down. Her knee scuffs against the edge of a sharp hidden rock and the water catches crimson as she grows still. And then explodes against him as she uses everything she has to push back against him, to find her footing and buck beneath him as she throws her head back viciously in every attempt to drive him to the place of pain and pleasure she had found.
There is a promise in the feral cry that escapes her. A promise of vicious brutality the moment he releases her. A promise of retribution that she will carve into him piece by piece until she is well and truly satisfied.
A promise that he would have to try harder, next time.
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