Eliot's brows creased when Sam refused, for his sake, he knew, which left the other man's hands bent awkwardly under him with barely any real grip. Sam's blunt nails found purchase on Eliot's chest and scratched into the skin, but it wasn't a strong clutch and didn't allow him to transfer any of the motion away from himself. Each thrust would be absorbed by his body, made even harder on him for his attempts to hold still and hurt Eliot less.

Damn stubborn man, it made Eliot respect him and want to help him more. Because Sam wasn't as broken as he first implied and there may still be something salvageable within him.

"It's alright," he murmured for Sam's ears only. He kept his tone low and voice soft, like he would be speaking to an injured horse. But if Sam looked up he would see that Eliot knew he was strong, that he wasn't in anyway thinking Sam couldn't take this on himself. It was Eliot who wanted to help and was determine to however he could. "Y'can hold on... Just for a bit."

Eliot meant more than just this time though, maybe Sam will suffer like this for the last time. He said before that if Eliot surrendered, he will be freed from the Devil's play things, and he needed to before he broke completely. Eliot could see clearly what he meant by that now, and the hitter intended to stop it at whatever the cost.