He squeezed harder, trying to inspire a cry for help. He wanted her to beg him to stop, but her fierce eyes burned defiantly, smugly glinting with her sick satisfaction. Her expression refused to falter, even as her nails dug into his arm. She wasn't pushing him away, if anything she was pulling his tightening grip closer to her, beckoning him to finish the job.
As the tiniest bit of air managed to find it's way inside her lungs, a smirk stretched across her trembling lips, forming the words "Do it.." He growled lowly, his hatred for this woman guided to his fingers, continuing to cut off her air-supply.
He ground his teeth, how dare she tell him what to do? How dare she not plead for his mercy like the cowardly swine she was? He released her, taking a moment of pleasure from her panicked gasps for air.
She clutched her neck, feeling the imprinted form of his leather glove deeply trenched in her skin. Her smirk returned, high in the corner of her mouth. She averted her glare only once to cough, returning it that instant, her arrogance infuriated him.
He drew his hand back, expecting her, wanting her to flinch. She never so much as turned her head. He struck her hard, putting all his force into getting rid of that sly grin.
Her arms provided a brace as she fell against the wall. She pushed back the loose hair that clung to her aching cheek. Her spectacles had flown off her nose, chipped from their hard landing on the floor.
She ran her tongue along the inside, tasting the bruised flesh that had tore along the edge of her teeth. She patted her cheek, smiling lovingly up at him.
"You kept an open palm," Her voice, shaking and broken. "You really do care about me."
He struck her again, gripping her by the deep red collar to hold her in place. He wanted to watch her face contort under the agony, repeatedly beating her until at last she finally winced.
He tilted her now swelling chin up to meet his eyes, that anger-inspiring glint still shone within her own. He leaned his face forward, his brow deeply furrowed from his fury.
His eyes traveled to her hands, her fingers scratching away at the wall, as if she could dig herself out. So she was indeed afraid of him. Good.
His rage flowed into his own sense of satisfaction. He'd have much rather seen it on her face, but he was wearing her down. He had plenty of time left to break her slowly, completely.
"I told you Howl, if you are that anxious to die you need only ask. So," His face inched closer to hers, her smirk fading into a scowl the closer he got. "Say 'please'."
She balled up her fists, forcing herself to smile again under her reddened cheeks. She refused to give in. She would make him wish he'd killed her from the very beginning; of his own doing, not by her request.
She shook her head, letting it rest on the wall. He struck her again, much harder than she thought possible for him. She coughed once more, tasting the raw iron flavor that began to dribble down her chin. He again pulled her face toward his to examine her expression. Her smirk was still there, if not more prominent than ever.
He gripped the back of her neck, sharply pulling on the tangled strands of hair that limply kept her bun in place. Her breath hitched in her throat, her brow beginning to twitch. Still her eyes burned that fiery defiance. He yanked hard, pulling her up-kept hair out of place, causing it to fall into her eyes. He grinned as if he'd found a way he could win this battle. Another sharp pull and her chin tilted upward. He forced his mouth onto hers finding excitement growing within him tasting the hint of blood.
Her fist pounded on the wall, her knees trying to rise up to force him away. He slammed his steel-toed boot on her foot, crushing it under his weight.
Despite her determination, a hushed cry slithered out into his throat. He held her writhing hands against the wall to keep her as still as possible, and trying with all her might to fight him off, it wasn't proving an easy thing to do.
He liked she was struggling. Even if her words and expressions did not beg him to stop, her actions certainly did. And for now, that would suffice.
She would attempt to bite his tongue as it toyed with her own, but he knew very well this trick and retracted it at the slightest hint of her closing jaw. He would reward the pounding on his chest and kicks to his shin with a tug on her hair or a hard twist of his boot on her foot.
All at once she let her self fall limp. Her attempts to resist him halted in one brief moment. He paused, pulling away to check if she was still alive; he hadn't really given her the chance to breathe.
She glared at him, her teeth bared. Her hair ascended away from her face with every harsh exhale she expelled through her flared nostrils. His menacing, gap-toothed grin stretched wide across his face. He allowed her to have a moment to catch her breath before leaning back in.
She didn't let him replace his mouth, instead she wrapped her arm over his shoulder, pulling him toward her. He hesitated, a bit bewildered. This did not stop her, she clutched his lips with her own, this time digging her tongue into him.
It wasn't out of passion she did this, it was out of sheer hatred, and he sensed this. If he thought he could break her this way, he thought very wrong.
He pulled on her hair, taking her mouth off his. He struck her again and to his annoyance she only laughed in response. Laughed at him.
"Harder." she commanded, using her free hand to tug on the one gripping his fistful of hair.
He obliged her request with his gloved hand. Still she continued to laugh, her voice catching deep in her throat.
His hand found it's place on her throat again. His grip wasn't tight enough to cause strain on her breathing, instead he pushed against her to attempt to keep her still.
He dove into her open mouth, expecting this cycle to start again. Instead, he found her tongue not only willingly complying but fighting it's way to dominance.
She had stopped struggling, something that reignited his rage. He had expected her to be kicking away frantically, not deliberately accepting his advances.
"Filthy animal," he spat, panting in between breaths. He stomped on her foot to save him the trouble of hearing her reply. She let out another cry that trailed off into quieted, shaky laughter. "Won't you howl for me?" He twisted his boot onto her now bleeding toes. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain silent.
He tightened his grip on her neck and threw her down onto the floor. He stomped his foot into her stomach and grinned widely as she wretched under his force. He turned her over, her arms firmly clasped around her searing middle.
"Look at me!" He kicked her again. "Look at me you worthless maggot!"
She let her cheek lie on the cool cement, the only relief she could find. She coughed heavily, blood spattering out in short sprays. He knelt down, taking her by the collar. He gently wiped her chin using her loosened tie. She swallowed hard, trying to stifle the rising bile in her stomach.
His hand traveled to the zip of her slacks. She instinctively thrashed to the side, but his strength was greater than hers. He climbed over her, driving his knees into her thighs, holding her clenched fists above her head.
She couldn't force down the tiny whimper that ached it's way out. He pressed his knees in deeper, leaning himself forward to temp out another delicious protest.
He gripped her hands with one sharp grasp, using his now free hand to continue tearing down her zip.
"You...could have just...asked nicely." her voice had become raspy, clotted by the blood welling in her mouth. The small metal bit of her zip had broken off in his haste to be rid of it.
"Even then... I still would have said... No."
He momentarily ceased his attempts to pull her slacks down to reward her impertinence with another hard slap against face. As he furiously tore at them he felt her pelvis rise, lifting the knee he used to hold her down.
"Here... Let me help you." She managed to croak out before forcing out another throated-chuckle. The sound of tearing cloth was his reply.
He positioned himself carefully, making sure to have a firm hold of her arms. Even if she was only lying there, letting him continue, so long as that defiant spark existed in her eyes he would persist.
Her slacks were no longer an issue for him. With his free hand he pulled her legs down, one tug at a time to evenly meet his hips. As he redid himself he felt the dull force of her attempt to wrap her weakened legs around him.
Now it was his turn to laugh. Though it only added fuel to his loathing for her, he was glad he wouldn't have to hold that part of her still. His fingers glided smoothly along the purple streaks forming on her neck. He gently placed each finger over a mark, rhythmically tapping them before grasping firmly on her throat.
He could feel her struggled breaths pleading to be released with each thrust. He kept his eyes locked to hers, waiting for that damned spark to fade. He raised an amused brow, feeling herself suddenly become trembling and tensed around him. In that instant her fiery eyes had become heavy with defeat; the spark faded and her struggle to breathe halted.
He erupted into a barrage of maniacal laughter, squeezing her windpipe with all his strength as he let himself finish.
It was over now. He rose up, brushing himself off. He smiled triumphantly at her lifeless body, sprawled out on the floor like a damp rag. He left her lie there. A mess for someone else to clean up.