reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
He can nearly feel the heat radiating from Danta’s cheeks as he surges in for another kiss, a growl poured into it as the reward is swift with the movement of his hand. And gods, what a kind of delirium Danta sparks, that ego of his rising with the plea as they part so that he might catch his breath, indulging in the Maverick’s writhing body and bound hands.
Ah, but then as he dives in for another kiss, one intending to be a hint softer as a reward, it all goes out the window with the fresh flood of blood again. The second their lips meet, Astaroth’s pressing in again, his body pressed in hard enough to give Danta something to grind against in lieu of his hand as he runs his hands up the blonde’s sides to his hands, loosening the belt to slip his wrists out, draping them momentarily along his shoulders as he undoes the belt from the bedpost.
The butcher’s panting a curse when he withdraws, hands immediately finding Danta’s hips to slide him over to the open bed, pushing him down and back as he starts to unbutton his own pants, a tinge of scarlet left on his lips and cheek.
Ah, but then as he dives in for another kiss, one intending to be a hint softer as a reward, it all goes out the window with the fresh flood of blood again. The second their lips meet, Astaroth’s pressing in again, his body pressed in hard enough to give Danta something to grind against in lieu of his hand as he runs his hands up the blonde’s sides to his hands, loosening the belt to slip his wrists out, draping them momentarily along his shoulders as he undoes the belt from the bedpost.
The butcher’s panting a curse when he withdraws, hands immediately finding Danta’s hips to slide him over to the open bed, pushing him down and back as he starts to unbutton his own pants, a tinge of scarlet left on his lips and cheek.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
