Zero may try to close her legs, but basic leverage isn't her friend. Ramona hums, high and off-tune, as she pushes her thighs apart, her fingernails biting quite deliberately, quite hard, into pale skin. (So many little marks she's leaving. How good it is, to leave a mark.)

She is silent -- her eyes fixed on Zero's face, drinking in every bit of violation and fury, savouring it -- as she brings a hand between Zero's legs, carelessly fondling her. Her thumb rubbing roughly over her clit, her fingers pushing her labia apart carelessly, forcing their way inside of her.

How about this? the fire in her eyes says. You already hate me, how much more will you hate me now?