Shadewood Just did a bad thing

His world tilted as she crawled after the man who had chosen to turn and keep himself from remaining atop her, a struggle of something so wretchedly carnal in him that his entire void-pasturized soul shook with enough force to stop his breathing. Even inhaling her was devastating to his psyche, and almost as any minion would, she tasted it, and grew addicted. A single slit of ice peered over his cape of midnight as he took her in, took her in this pathetic state, this whimpering slime of begging bitch...

His ruff lowered, mane softening to lay smooth over the Phantom while he turned to take her full under his atlantic scrutiny. Waves of baritones coldly crashed against to Warrioress, his prized and most valuable General. His Platinum. His, His, His. 

He had nothing left to say to her. Yet he had a legion of words to unfurl upon her. Cry wanted to kill her. Yet he wanted her to be so much closer to him than anything he could ever have imagined. He was attracted to her, her restless relent, her unending subjection to his law- something in him craved it- needed her to know that he expected that of her. It snatched him by his mind, and pulled his body to hers, circling the woman with almost voracious structure. A parasite that she sated with her whines, pleads, moans, and body. 

"Are you, truly?" Lies could undo her mercy, and they could leave her buried in this Keep rather than leading it. Deceit was his life, his father, his guide, his soul. And it played out the beat of his heart. He would know if she lied to him...
And thus would be her doom.

He grew closer to her, snout sliding against the air beside her with clean efficiency, clean and telling. The breath passing from his words, from his breathing, it intermingled with hers on a sail of silk with satin. 
Was she his? 

Was she?