His movements were soft, slow, gentle, and yet coupled with the pain in her foot it was nearly as much a torture as it had been before, though he'd coerced this fallacy of willingness from her. The little elf shook her head against his repeated pronouncement of her as a pet, crystalline tears ekeing from the corner of her wide eyes as his gentle thrusts jostled her, and his fingertips toyed with the sensitive protrusions of her body, tugging forth responses that she was loathe to give voice to.