Erythnul's laugh echoed yet again across the inside of her head. He loved her honesty; that purest expression of pain, neither falsified nor suppressed, forced from the deepest part of her being. The part of her that was an animal. The part of her that his kind craved to expose. Love, in fact, was not strong enough a word; he<em>relished</em>it, as one would a fine delicacy.<br/><br/>Still refusing her any time to adjust her body, he ripped his length most of the way out and then slammed it back in, impaling her again, and then again, and then again as he chose his rhythm, holding her tightly and pulling her into each of his thrusts, his balls slapping against her rump over and over.