"Your story?" Harry asked, his lips quirking as he took another drink. "Or are we talking about my very own fallen angel?"
John bared his teeth as he braced his hands on the sides of the coffin and met her hips each time with a hard thrust of his own. He knew he'd be the only one leaving with any bruises, but he still enjoyed the thrill of not having to be gentle or patient or loving. All he had to do was let himself enjoy her body, and he did that eagerly. He grabbed one of those hands and brought her nails up to the base of his neck at his collarbone, daring her to tear the skin there.