Agrat would have laughed if not for the pressure on her throat. She'd yet to meet anyone who made her feel like Jack did, not that anyone else needed to know that. "Is the begging what gets you off?" she forced out, drawing in another breath. "Or the actual killing?" It had to be one or the other, there was also some deeper reason why they killed. She knew that from experience. She also knew that if she somehow allowed someone else to kill her Jack probably wouldn't be happy.
Not that she truly cared if Jack was happy or not, but it seemed potentially ruinous to the game they'd taken such care to create. That wasn't going to stop her from enjoying herself now, with Andras. "Isn't... that.. always the way?" Her words were coming out closer to a wheeze now, but fear still hadn't set in. There was nothing about this man that threw off the same killing intent she'd come to find so comforting and familiar with Jack, and that was leading her to believe that she'd be walking out of here in one piece. Pity, that. The combination of the increased tightness from his grip and the seemingly random smelling of her hair coaxed another smirk to her lips. She always made sure she smelled of the subtle combination of sand, suntan lotion, and cocoa butter -- scents she enjoyed because they reminded her of being alive -- and nearly asked if he liked that mixture as well. Then he let her go, and the disappointment that flowed through her was practically palpable. "You're right, I probably would." she tossed off with an elegant one-shouldered shrug. "Besides, it's not your place to kill me, only his."