The words that make it out are disjointed, barely making any kind of sense since she can't really think, her body on fire with his lovemaking, tears threatening as her body is overwhelmed. Fractured images of all the ways he's made her his cut through her, being left bruised and sometimes even bleeding as he marks her, giving her reminders of his complete ownership as Lucifer claimed her, after, when she learned to please him with her mouth, or with both of them. Always the tone is needing more, needing sex, needing that edge of violence, needing.

Claudia trembles with the need to come, and he is the only thing holding her in place, her head starting to drop towards the table until the movement of her breasts against the table, even through the bra she still wears has her screaming his name.