He saw what he was doing to her. This new Iris was always unraveling for him. This cacophony of sounds, some from her lips and others from her body and wounds, were a study in the human composition. It would seem rare that only angels could provide this kind of unfettered overlook. It was of course not just out of curiosity, as he was relentlessly looking for impulses to satisfy on his new flesh doll, that also had his adoration.<br/><br/>More glorious pleas to keep the blood fresh inside his hard flesh. It was grateful for the calls, but didn't listen at all to their sentiment. It was painful for him too, but he was counting the discomfort as part of deflowering her again. Roan breathed deeply as he made love to her in a manner other partners could never stand. He told the ceiling with the sounds in his throat that he loved this creature, that had spilled it secrets just as it was spilling itself on the table.<br/><br/>He could read the flight in her eyes, an escape like any human, without wings. Poor mind, overwhelmed by the kind of intimacy he'd chosen for them. He stroked her neck and down her body, over her breasts, admiring the path of his hand. A divine toy, come to him long ago, and now he needed to play with her to make up for having been blind to her uses for so long. She seemed to like the petting more, so he could give her some of that too.<br/><br/>At the deepest of her hiding, he looked down at her again, and his eyes were wide with the fuel in his blood that come with fucking, when she added to it all with her obedient hands. They pushed up, martyr Iris, and managed to undo the bond between the wood and the cutting metal. He laughed in surprise, guttural, and then swallowed with all manner of affection for her as her hands fell back to the table. He nodded at the free, torn limbs.<br/><br/>It was a simple matter to sit her up slightly. It changed the set of his cock inside her without going out. He held her hips tightly, thumbs in the folds between her hips and thighs, so he could kiss her, now that she was free from the stakes he'd put in. His body rolled to continue friction in her ass, while his tongue softly petitioned for hers. Her arms would hang if she didn't put strength into them, and with the new elevation and motion, the knives might slip out, leaving her with nothing in the wounds he'd made.<br/><br/>"Hold me, then, Iris." he said into her mouth as his body continued to surge into hers. If it wasn't for the blood, and the large limb in the small crevice, their position was almost amicable, passionate. "Didn't you want to love me?"