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He nipped her muzzle with his fangs in a silent scolding, but lost as he was in the pleasure of driving into her he misjudged, and scraped his sharp fangs down her snout, scouring marks that welled subtly. He licked clean the wound without stopping until he was shuddering and gasping, and arching into her. Spent, he collapsed on her small frame with a satisfied sigh. He paid no heed to the amount of muscle and weight he pushed down on top of her, nor if her muzzle was free to gasp in air.

He writhed inside of her another few moments, and then dragged himself free and rolled over. Freeing her. The pot was well hissing now as water hit the flames from the bubbling substance. “Deal with that, won't you.” He growled, though his growl had a little less bite to it. He was feeling rather good.


"Speech"