Astaroth
// i ride the edge, my speed goes in the red //
It’s enough to drive him wild momentarily, even despite the fact that he harbors the control in the situation. He’s the one that sets the pace. And perhaps that’s reason enough that he does it to himself — prolonging and taunting and playful, only so he doesn’t end up losing all sense. Once again, it’s one of those times where Danta’s neck is nowhere near him (thankfully), and it leaves him more calculating and to his own devices, drawing pleasure both for the Maverick and for himself.
A win-win.
Danta’s moans are like music to his ears, however, and only when it’s broken up with the admission that he could listen to that all day does Asta commit it to memory. It also helps with how Danta grinds his hips back against the butcher’s cock, a shiver rolling down his spine in delight as his pace stumbles for a moment before he regains each thrust. More is a command that he can happily give, though, increasing the snap of his hips to draw more stars across Danta’s vision, fist holding onto a handful of blonde and twisting slightly to keep him in place so that the butcher might do exactly what Danta had asked earlier — to use him. “Fuck—”
It takes a substantial amount of mental effort for Asta to growl out his moaned addition, though, despite the sounds already leaving him, ensuring that Danta’s name spills from them time and time again.
A win-win.
Danta’s moans are like music to his ears, however, and only when it’s broken up with the admission that he could listen to that all day does Asta commit it to memory. It also helps with how Danta grinds his hips back against the butcher’s cock, a shiver rolling down his spine in delight as his pace stumbles for a moment before he regains each thrust. More is a command that he can happily give, though, increasing the snap of his hips to draw more stars across Danta’s vision, fist holding onto a handful of blonde and twisting slightly to keep him in place so that the butcher might do exactly what Danta had asked earlier — to use him. “Fuck—”
It takes a substantial amount of mental effort for Asta to growl out his moaned addition, though, despite the sounds already leaving him, ensuring that Danta’s name spills from them time and time again.
// hot blood, these veins, my pleasure is their pain //
