[ If he had breath those words would come out breathless, but as it is he's lacking in the whole breath and sweat department that makes sex such sticky fun. There's still a labored quality to it, a heat where there should be none, feral growls deep in his throat at the way her nails rake through his flesh — always did have a thing for bloodshed, even if it never got all that messy.
Jaw set he pushes himself harder, picking up the pace even more and by now he's getting close, edging towards release with each well-placed thrust. Warm and wet and her muscles tight around him, it'll soon be too much but that point hasn't been hit just yet. ]