Ares truly was a specimen - the punishing way he was treating her could only be improved, she thought, if he was covered in blood. Dark and hot, it could slip over the hard muscles in his chest, smearing messily against her skin.
But hey, she'd wear her bruises as happily as she'd wear blood - and as he pushed his fingers between her legs she bit down hard on his neck, channeling the pain and the pleasure of it back into him. She got off on the strength of him, the unrelenting strength of him, and the knowledge that he wouldn't release her till he was completely satisfied.