Rorschach's movements were smooth, confident, and he seemed far more expereienced than he actually was. He was a very powerful man despite his height, and he could best larger men in contests of physical strength. His bare knees against the ground, absorbing the shock as he thrusted tirelessly into Merope's body, his rock-hard abs not cramping in the slightest as he moved, he was glad for the fact that he stayed in excellent shape. It meant that he was able to take the role of an active, aggressive lover.
He found a rhythm that satisfied him, varying his tempo only enough to keep them both intrigued. He grasped Merope's shoulders and kissed her, putting his tongue between her teeth to mimic his deeper thrusts. He liked it best when his entire length was sheathed, when he could feel the tight pressure squeezing him from all sides. Though he was unconsciously absorbed in his own pleasure, he tried very hard not to forget Merope's, caressing her breasts with his shorter, quicker thrusts.