He hurts. I can feel it in my thoughts, pain and joy all knotted up together. I don't understand why, so I just show him how happy I am, to help him.

"I need. Hurt me."

It hurts me when he starts to push in, my breath huffing out.

"Yes," I say, "oh, yes," and I claw at his back, but that's not enough. I dig my heel into his back and pull myself up so I can bite at him, teeth digging in. My teeth aren't sharp like his, but I'm strong, it seems, and before long there's blood in my mouth. It tastes of salt and iron, but beyond that - oh, you taste of stars and my prick throbs.