"Ah, so it was love," he said softly, sounding almost touched. His hips drew back slightly, letting the head of his cock slip down between her cheeks, nuzzling past the wrinkled grommet of her ass to the dewy petals of her half-aroused sex. "This isn't," he hissed, and slid his hips forward at what was to him a fast but smooth entry. Then again, with his reflexes, he could see a hummingbird's wings beat. To her, it must have felt like an abrupt and painful ramming, driving straight into her body, his passage only barely eased by the arousal he'd stimulated against her will.
He buried himself inside her, driving in to the root, pushing against the back wall of her channel, her cervix, just to get himself fully wrapped in her body. Slaves were good for blood, but this also was a primary use; you didn't have to care how a slave felt when you were getting your pleasures. That, in fact, was one of the joys, knowing when you were getting enjoyment they could not share.
So he sank into her, until his testicles swung into contact with her, bumping gently against her clitoris (he'd owned some slaves with that troublesome nubbin removed, but this one still had hers, at least for now), and once he was fully inside, he sighed in satisfaction. He ground against her, his hips mashing into her lovely ass, swirling his thick shaft inside her tight channel.