He arched into her touch, pressing those delicious cuts and bruises against her, and she shivered against him, because there was so much pain on his face and there was blood everywhere and she had one of the most powerful men on the ship reduced to near incoherency. He pulled her closer with his good arm, and then leaned to whisper in to her ear. Hurt me. The words sent a barely repressed shudder running through her. "I will," she purred, dragging her nails down his good arm right on top of one of the cuts. She wanted to keep hurting him, but since she couldn't kill him she needed another method of releasing the building tension and pleasure inside her. One knife rose to drag along the back of his shoulder, and it was really a shame that she couldn't reach much of his back. She drew the flat of the other blade down his torso, not enough to cut but knowing it would hurt as it jarred against the other wounds. She briefly diverted the knife to slip under her skirt, carefully cutting off her own panties. Sex felt almost incidental to the pain, but she needed the stimulation. She'd already cut off his pants, so it was easy to push herself up on her knees and sink down slowly on to him, biting down hard on his neck and pressing both knives into him as she did so.