Aryel was more resilient than one might have expected from a woman of her stature, due to both her parentage and simple lucky genetics. She had demonstrated that tenacity several times over, refusing to succumb entirely no matter how much punishment he heaped upon her, but even she had her limits. Her body was trembling with exhaustion under him, her blood roaring in her ears. Every twitch of a muscle hurt, and though adrenaline demanded she fight on, she was gradually losing the ability to comply.<br/><br/>Even then, she would not beg for reprieve. This was no longer about winning the fight, it was about proving that she could not be broken--for whatever that was worth now. He could overpower her, but it would be a cold day in Hell before she would cry for mercy from the likes of him.<br/><br/>The battle of wills itself seemed to have an allure to him as well. He was drinking in her fear and rage like a man dying of thirst. She could feel the swollen head of his cock begin to push inwards, driving out a sharp gasp from her. Her hands had gone up to try and dig nails into his shoulders, but their positioning meant that she was forced to reach around her own legs to grab at him, making it difficult to maintain any sort of grip.<br/><br/>She tried to shift tactics again and instead reach up to dig her thumbs into his eyes in the hopes of gouging them out, but before she could do so, he slammed home without mercy.<i>That</i>was enough to make her scream, and scream she did. Blows to the stomach were one thing, but this was pain of an entirely different sort, delivered to a much more intimate, sensitive part of her body. The force of his initial thrust was enough to break her grip, throwing her arms down against the floor beside her head as he rutted cruelly on top of her. Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes as she squeezed them shut, gritting her teeth with such force that it seemed they would shatter. It<i>hurt</i>, deeply and severely, in a way she had never hurt before. She forced herself to breathe, deep, shuddering inhales and exhales that made her struggles to endure plain for him to see, as if she thought she could<i>acclimate</i>herself to his punishment, take it without letting him enjoy the results of his cruelty. And yet that wasn't even the worst he could do. On his deepest thrust, she felt his sack slap against her taint, a sharp agony blossoming within her core as his head pushed against her cervix. Aryel shrieked again, her eyes flying open as she convulsed, trying desperately to buck him off.<br/><br/>He was well-endowed, and she was tensed and terrified. Between those two factors, every inch felt like it was going to split her apart. Tears streamed from her eyes as he continued, staining the already-dark hair lying in waves under her head and shoulders. A new, sharper edge to the pain within her, as well as the sudden presence of crimson on his cock whenever he pulled out, let them both know that the unrelenting friction on her inner walls was beginning to take its toll.<br/><br/>Under the pain, however, her body was responding in betrayal of her mind. Between the adrenaline, the position, and the way his cock filled her to entirety with each stroke, it was growing even more difficult to string a thought together. Each thrust inwards briefly raked his tip against the sensitive cluster of nerves located within her walls, and though the lack of moisture meant that it was still far more painful than pleasurable, the sensation it sent coursing through her still managed to knock her breath out each time. She silently begged for the torture to end soon, wishing she could break free of her own mind and escape into peaceful oblivion before he finally broke her resolve, but that mercy was out of her reach.