A savage bear skin wearing women walks in the snow without feeling the chill of the cold, her twin hand axes covered with dripping blood as she comes back from kill

The woman, Roskva stops at the sight before her, savage eyes locked with his own as she speaks, voice rough and uncultured. "So... you're finally fucking brave enough to come for me? Thought you were going to pussyfoot around..." She tilts her head, bares her teeth. "...but no matter."

She grunts as he finally goes through with it, balls-deep inside her ass, and smirks nastily at him. "Oooh, you like that, do ya?" she taunts, tensing her body against him to meet each thrust in turn before ramming back into him hard enough to rock his hips on the snowy ground beneath them both.

The warrior growls in pleasure and pain as she feels her insides clenching tight around his shaft. "You think you can beat me?! You pathetic excuse for a man!" she snarls, eyes narrowing with rage as adrenaline surges through her body like molten lava. Her ass tightens and loosens against his cock in rhythm with each pump of his hips, taunting him to go harder, faster...

Her eyes widen as she realizes she's close...too close! But it's too late to back down now. Roskva throws her head back in a savage snarl, pressing her body into his harder than ever before. Her grip on the frozen ground grows tighter as the heat of their coupling robs them both of feeling below the waist...and suddenly she's there: A scream erupts from deep within her chest as waves of pleasure/pain crash over her like a tidal wave, leaving her shuddering and spent against him.

After that climax so close and sudden like that, it takes her a moment to come back down. She's panting heavily through clenched teeth as he presses his lips against her cheek, nuzzling against her while she begins to relax against him. "Well... now what?" she asks gruffly, still not sure whether this means the fight is truly over or if there's some trickery afoot.

"Mmm..." She muses, slowly slipping out of his ass as he releases her waist, the wetness they've created on her thighs feeling cold in the winter air. "...I suppose I am." Her hand moves to rest on his hip, petting him gently. "But don't expect me to be some delicate flower all the time," she warns with a smirk.

She grins at him toothily, rolling her shoulders beneath the fur cloak. "Deal." With a last little pat on his hip, she turns and starts walking again through the snow, beckoning him to follow. "Come on," she says with an amused chuckle, "Let's get back before someone notices we're gone."

"Don't get any ideas," she warns him with a snort. "Just because I'm letting you follow me doesn't mean you can do whatever you want, understood?" Her gait remains purposeful as they continue to move through the snowy landscape.

But in the back of her mind, a small voice whispers: Perhaps he could be useful... and perhaps it wouldn't hurt to keep him close for now. Just until I decide what to do with him.

The bearskin-clad woman stops short and glares back at him over her shoulder. "Don't you dare," she snarls, the tip of her tongue flicking out to wet her lips as anger courses through her veins once more. Her grip tightens on the hilt of her axe, hidden beneath the thick fur of her cloak.

But then she hesitates. A small part of her mind wonders if maybe he's right...maybe this is a game they can play, where she lets him do whatever he wants when they're alone like this. The idea both excites and unnerves her in equal measure.

"Aw, come on..." She pouts, shaking her head playfully as he backs away from her. "Don't be like that...we could have fun together." Her eyes narrow, gaze calculating as she watches him move through the snow. The idea of dominating this man appeals to her in a way she can't quite understand yet, but it only stirs the savage within even more.

Roskva takes a step forward, letting her body slide sinuously beneath the fur cloak as she approaches him once again. "Just remember," she says softly enough that he might mistake it for a promise rather than a threat, "if you ever cross me...I won't go easy next time."

Her eyes narrow as she listens to him taunt her about losing the game and being a bad loser, but something about his words ignites a spark within her. "Oh, really?" she says sharply, stepping even closer now until they're almost nose-to-nose. "And do you think just because you won this little contest that I should let you have your way with me? Huh?" Her hand finds his chest, pressing down hard enough to make him gasp for breath beneath her touch.

Her voice drops low and menacing as she continues, "Let me tell you something: You're mine now. Mine to do whatever I want with." She takes a step back again, giving herself room to maneuver should he try anything stupid while still maintaining that predatory gaze fixed upon him. "So you better learn your place fast, boy..."

Her eyes go wide with surprise and pain as his fingers dig into her throat, choking her. For a moment, shock freezes her muscles as he continues to hold on tightly, cutting off her air supply. Her hands flutter uselessly at his wrists, trying desperately to pry them loose from around her neck.

But then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure is released. Roskva sucks in a ragged breath of snow-scented air and glares up at him from beneath her tangled hair. "You bastard..." she growls, though her voice comes out hoarse and strained from the chokehold. "What do you think you're doing?"

Rage fills her like hot coals spilling over, burning away the last shreds of sanity and reason. Her hands fly up to grasp his wrists, fingers digging in deep as she fights for breath and control. "You bastard!" she wheezes, struggling against him with every ounce of strength she can muster.

But despite her efforts, he's stronger than her. With each passing second, her air supply dwindles further until finally, mercifully, consciousness slips away and the world goes black around the edges. Her body feels numb and heavy as she fades into unconsciousness, his hands still clamped tightly around her throat...

Groggily, she opens her eyes to see the unfamiliar ceiling of a room above her. Her head feels heavy and achy as though it's filled with lead, and it takes her several moments to remember how she got here...and who put her here. The bastard.

Her eyes flutter closed briefly before opening once more, focusing on the hands now stroking her hair. "Fine," she mutters, feeling too exhausted to fight him anymore. "Just... don't do that again." Her voice is rough with sleep and pain as he continues massaging her scalp.

"I'll try not to," he murmurs reassuringly, and even though she knows he shouldn't be able to reach the words register with any part of her brain still functioning, it does. They make her shiver beneath his touch.