Foundation of an Army

Suddenly it seemed she would realise, become aware of the hormones that so begged him, fall informed of the desires that clawed so mercilessly behind his ruby gaze. She would shiver beneath him, crumble at his touch, and he would pull her scruff upwards, as if attempting to support her weight, kneading the loose skin between his incisors. She would respond, and hell, she would even plead, beg him of another chance to supply him with the babes he so desired. It would be all he needed, jaws releasing his grasp as he would rake his teeth down her spine, not aiming to hurt, but merely to satisfy the craving of her touch, her warmth. And he would rise, powerful upon his hind limbs as forelegs would reach over her shoulders, a salmon tongue tracing her lobes before again he would strive to clutch at her scruff. A brittle growl of power would rumble his throat, the desperation to succeed evident within his motions, encouraging her to give to him what he wanted, what he needed.