He was encouraged when his push had been able to part her. The sight of her panties were like a shock to his own crotch, and it animated it. Even when she told him she was hurting, it felt like it was to entice. Everything she did had an edge. Everything pleased and everything hurt. It was like living in denial, close to release. He thought through his fever fog that it would all be better tonight. He'd have her, and he'd teacher her through the act that he wasn't the good person she thought she housed. There was more to him than some artful clairvoyance into a world that didn't exist.<br/><br/>His hands became eager, as some things at the beginning of containment, and wouldn't listen to her soothing ones. Her resistance fueled something fanged inside, and it wanted at her. There wasn't much in Roan to oppose, since he was not some water-combed weakling to begin. When she tried to look into him, she'd see the struggling brilliant parts drown in something deeply colored. For a moment he was blind to her question. If there was divinity in her, he felt drawn to it for evil reasons.<br/><br/>He was somewhat halted by the rise of new animalistic strands when she moved. He followed, shallow air in his throat, and fell to his shoulder along with her when she tried to wrestle for her freedom. A flash of anger from the jolt of the floor. He rolled to lay on top of her. "You're not going to sleep." he said, and it was almost a hiss. He crushed his lips to hers again, and it pushed her scent into his head. He grinded the back of her skull into the floor as his hips pressed down on hers, as though trying to break her bones.<br/><br/>"I'm not some prince, Iris." a lonely pearl of spittle fell heedlessly from his mouth onto her chin. Roan shook his head and it let loose a disarray of hair from the sloppy knot. His sclera were the only sources of light in his face, like half obstructed moons trying to light a dead night. He held her wrists to the floor. He didn't know he was subduing an angel with his human lust. Better that, because that would have been more enticing. Who doesn't want to violated the pure? Face to her neck, he took more of that bewildering, stupefying scent. He harked out his next breath and rested his forehead under her jaw without letting her go. Why was he so afflicted by her?<br/><br/>"Say it." he said into her ear. It was both the wail of a dying good man and the birth of a beast. "Just say you're afraid of me, or that you'd rather I take what I want. Just admit that I'm not some pure little boy. And maybe you like that." he demanded through teeth. "Save us from your naivety." he urged, hand somehow finding her throat.