Barrow Fields Lord, show [m]e how to say no to this

His weight pressed against her back, and her breathing quickened before he even entered. His jaw clamped around her scruff in a familiar, slightly painful feeling, his two forelegs around her hips a gentle pressure, though the best feeling was yet to come. He thrusted, though it didn't hit home. She whined in disappointment, knowing that it was a common practice in males to assure themselves that they were in the right place. It was on his second that she began to melt, pressing back into his hips, moaning again.