Moonspear Down a route I think is heading south [M]

His weight he placed atop her, the sensation of his fangs in her pelt still lingering on her side. Suddenly, this felt so very wrong, but that was pushed aside with a tidal wave of desire, for this alpha who was paying attention to her, of all people. This alpha of which she was seeing a totally different side. And so she did nothing when he mounted but adjust her weight, and whine ever so softly as she felt both burning hot and ice cold at once. It was only instinct, only natural, for her to behave in this manner, especially with an alpha. 

She felt her scruff be gripped, his forelegs cradle hers. Instinctively, driven by a primeval urge, she arched her back against him, swinging her hips in the slightest and giving a little excited whine, her scent rich and enveloping.