He let go of her uniform to brace himself against the floor as he lay back, the movement jarring the multitude of cuts that decorated his body now. Another whimper, as Uhura twisted the knife in his shoulder, and then he was flat on his back, and she returned to using the other two knives on him. He was trembling still, every muscle tense, but he tried to match her rhythm, rocking his hips in time with hers. This was probably a bad idea, considering the amount of blood he'd lost already, but he wasn't really in any state of mind to care. Either way, when all was said and done, he'd need a few days to recover, at least. But none of that was important right now.