Honeyed Pasture but i've never loved one before

She tried to withhold and yet she sighed. The wistful breath like smoke in the air as she studied him as intently as he her. His chuff was met with the idle flick of her tail—careful consideration before the woman traipsed forward at a leisurely pace, the gentle sway of her figure moving much like the silence of a cat on the prowl.

Whether it was an action meant to be intimidating or mysterious, it would have been a lie to say the dark pelt of the man and the icy stare he rest upon her didn’t stir a certain intrigue in her breast—a foolish heart indeed… and one that had simply become addicted to satiating the heartache of lost love through measles acts. “From here?” To the point—a purring voice, she canted her muzzle, waiting for his response.