As if the nails in his sides did anything but make him shudder beneath Connor's touch. They were no punishment, especially when no amount of pressure could cause any kind of pain. His priorities existed where pleasure was greatest, and so far it seemed as if this roundabout game drew out the exact response V had hoped for. He knew, too, that Connor was struggling himself to keep from finishing too early.

When Connor's nails dragged to V's back he was met with an arch of pleasure. V gave a low moan as he was spread apart by Connor, his hips shifting slightly as if to better present himself for display despite Connor repeatedly driving himself into V. He was a fucking mess, really, and he was having a really fucking hard time focusing on Connor's words.

This one wasn't so intentional, wasn't meant to be in any defiance, but between Connor's pace and force and how he was handling V he managed to lose his ability to speak as he concentrated on holding himself together. As much as he wanted to let himself tip over the edge and finish, he knew it would be so much better if he held out for it and let it build up. So for better or worse Connor received no answer to his question yet, outside of the moans and groans that V made.