It doesn't register, what he's doing to himself. The sounds drowned out by her own screams and the pounding of the blood in her ears. She's too fucked up, too fucked out to notice anything but her own pleasure. It's too big. Too overwhelming and it's sucking her under, just like she wanted. Just like she needs.

She thinks she might be crying but she doesn't care. They aren't tears of pain or fear or even sadness, really. It's just an overflow of emotion. The drink, the drugs, the desperate need to drown out the loss that's so big, so terrifying she can't even look at it. Not yet. And the more pleasure John gives her, the more he takes, the easier it is for her to keep looking away.

"Don't stop, please don't," she begs as she feels herself nearing that edge again. It's not a shock this time, it's a slow build. So intense it's almost painful and she wants that pain. Chases it. Muscles tensed and breath coming in short gasps. "Like that, like that, like that..."