His head jerked to the side with the force of her blow, his hand loosening on her throat in actual surprise when her knee connected with his lower abdomen, only narrowly avoiding his junk in the process. He growled and turned his head back to face her with incremental slowness, fixing her with those demonic eyes as his lips twisted into a humorless, chill-inducing smirk. "Putting up a fight now? I wouldn't expect anything less. Trust me when I say it's only going to make things harder for you... but it will make things more fun for me."
He looked up into her face, contorted now into a look he was all to familiar with: fear. It pleased him immensely. "I've fucking dreamed of this moment for years," he told her, his tone strangely conversational even as a strange, growling undertone entered his voice. "The day you'd make a mistake and I'd get the chance to do to you what you did to me. To make you feel what you made me feel. Fear. Pain." A strange look crossed his face as he grappled with the recollection of the years of abuse she'd inflicted. "Humiliation..." That last word was a ragged whisper, and he slammed her head back against the wall again, his hand vice-like at her throat but no longer squeezing hard enough to obstruct her intake of air.
"You took things from me I didn't even know I had. The only things I had left. You're going to be begging to me to kill you when I'm done with you... let's start now."