The words only drive him on more hungrily. Fuck, how he's missed her. Missed this. Her neck and shoulders will be a patchwork of purple tomorrow. He can't do that with any whore. He can't lose himself and find himself in the same moment like he does when he's inside her.

Sweeney's pace builds, the roughness in the act something he's always happy to give her. He wants to fill her and devour her and just have her.