ooc:
She could not reach him. So close and yet his throat seemed so far. She needed to have it and claimed her dominance over him. Only then would this savagery be brought to a satisfying end and she could call the male defeated. Her mind registered only his fallen form rather than the wounds that caused it, and taking her advantage she encompassed his lower half between the crushing vice of her thighs, tightening her hold while pressing her weight into him.
Yet even as she sank harder onto him, literally forcing her whole down to reach him, the guard he had raised restraining her from his throat kept her just out of reach of her prize. And she could feel him moving beneath her, fighting against the inevitable with commendable defiance that in more than one instance nearly toppled her over. But she was resilient in her hold, and like a victorious beast baring down upon would-be prey, her wild eyes bore into the crazed blues beneath her, shrouding his snarling face in tresses of red with each futile bite she made for his neck. Encompassed by the private auburn veil, eyes interlocked with the reflection of the same degraded nature, a strange sense of calm gradually worked its way into her eyes. Badly, she wanted his submission, to be named victor of their bout and revel in that pride as a warrior should… yet a creeping thought had long since closed her frantically snapping maw though the snarl still lingered. If she could not take his throat, then she could at the very least state her rightful claim as it was too obvious in her eyes to ignore. With what sanity she could muster, she allowed a satisfied smirk to come to her lips, and ever so softly she uttered;
“I win.”