Her inner was in an uproar around his flesh. And still, even as she was being taken against her will, deflowered like a plucked concrete-born dandelion between the wall and the street, she was being so sweet. He'd not had this kind of delicious fare before, with a Scythe so smitten by him she couldn't even perceive that this was his doing. Her cunt wept the truth onto the weapon that impaled it, but she didn't see it. It won't fit. But it did, and what she said was only another compliment that the male ego craved.<br/><br/>He knew how to last, but all her loveliness took its toll on his endurance. Her slick blood and its help with her clamping friction, the massaging, defensive muscles - how could anyone hope to go for long? And then, when the magic steel pressed on her breasts's buds and she stilled like an obedient maiden for her master, he couldn't stand it. He groaned and stabbed her deeper, into her recently untouched depths. He delivered his lust into her, and filled her up. An unholy amount that she could attribute to the monster's influence, if she wanted.<br/><br/>He pulled the sword back, not cutting, but still distressing the peaks of her tits with the speed at which he drew the blade away. Demonically cleaver, he put his face to hers, and then jerked his hips back to vacate her swiftly. The sudden hollow and the pain of the retreat would leave her gasping or screaming, surely, and that's when he'd kiss her opened mouth, while her lower, opened lips would leak that tell-tale pink concoction, that was both his seed and her life, making a puddle beneath her.<br/><br/>After some afterglow tonguing, he'd pretend to wake up, eyes wide and beaded with tears as he shook his head, wearing confusion. He'd quickly turn to fury, as men are prone to do, and stab his retrieved sword forward, as though aiming at her. But he didn't blame her for this of course, and while the blade almost touched her side, it was meant for the creature behind her, that had been instrumental in this performance. It wailed and lost its own consistency.<br/><br/>It melted, and let go of her hands and legs, falling over her as it lost more of its integrity. In the end she'd be on the ground, where the puddle of cum and blood was. Kuram had to take care not to be aroused again when she was splattered in the dark liquid, dripping in the beasts remains, her body newly sampled and her distress at its highest. He kneeled, that meat spear close to her, when he tried to hold her. "Juniper!" he breathed. "It wasn't me." he said, desperately. "You mustn't think..." his arms shook around her, if she'd let them be there. "I am so sorry. Ah, I don't know what to do. I failed you..."<br/><br/>He had seen enough anguish to give it back in performance, when in reality he was a very happy villain, having had her in such a perfect way, while now petitioning for more of her comforts.