Adelice's eagerness for pain was almost amusing. She had no idea of the extremes of suffering he had inflicted during his millennia on the Earth, he thought. She was like all humans - blind and naive, having no inkling of the true darkness that walked the earth. He supposed that was why the gods had marked them as slaves. Their minds and hearts and bodies were fragile, like flowers; flowers whose petals yielded an intoxicating scent when they were crushed in a dominant hand.
The vampire's hand cupped the pale buttocks for a moment, delighting in the firmness and the smooth texture of the skin. His hand descended in a firm but measured slap directly on top of the first belt mark, pausing for a moment immediately afterwards to gauge her reaction, and then struck again in exactly the same place.