There was a moment that he grit his teeth to bear back another sound, letting out something more akin to an animal than anything, his eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as he felt the knife puncture something within him. He wasn't sure he even had a lung to puncture. His lips pressed against hers roughly, tasting his blood on them, and he made another, lower, dual toned sound, fisting his hand in her hair as he bucked his hips faster.
Rip me open. Even his thoughts were sharp and cold, demanding and unaffiliated with emotion. He moved against her with no intention of stopping, the hand that wasn't tangled in her hair was tight against her hip, nails digging deep into her flesh.