He didn't scream when she cut him and bit him simultaneously. Not exactly. It was more a choked, strangled cry of both pleasure and pain, and he tensed again, his body protesting this treatment, even though he definitely wanted her to continue. He wasn't sure how much more abuse his body could take without a proper rest to recover a bit, but he didn't want her to stop. Trembling, he sank back against the wall, his good hand balled into a fist so tight his nails dug into his palm, his breathing heavy, rapid, and ragged again.

"Don't stop," he whispered, his voice low and rough, as though she hadn't assured him just moments before that she wasn't stopping. He could take it. He'd been through worse. "Don't. Stop."