Atnorsa's head was forced to remain canted, her pale gaze slanting up over her shoulder at the man helping himself to the tight heat of her virginity, and she let him hold her that way. When he bent down, her mouth even opened - echoing the soft, welcoming parting of a willing lover's lips, except such a lover would likely not have the unnerving gap where foreteeth should be, nor the stain of blood on her skin and on her breath.<br/><br/>"The way of nature..." she breathed at him, her words echoing what Anastasius had whispered to her captive sister across the room. "...to plant seed in moist and fertile grrrooouunnnd..." The last word was elongated into a groan, though it jolted with each hard thrust into her, her body shifting so that her arm trapped beneath her could set fingertips more firmly against the sweet pearl in her abused folds, every movement sending her fingertips skittering across it, and adding a jolt of pleasure to the thick, full pressure of the man working inside her.