// smile like you mean it //
“I cannot.” He confidently drawls, smirking up at her from where he’s very contently settled beneath her, hips rising to taunt and toy with her equally as much even if he has conceded to handing her the reins. This is certainly a moment of passion and heated emotion, his bloodlust sparked to life in a primal instinct. There’s no I love you’s, a phrase Astaroth is confident he’s never said in the entirety of his life.
Letting her take his hand and cut his thumb, his hips tremble and his cock twitches as the warm blood drips into his mouth, paired with the sensation of her sinking down onto him. He groans, not even worried about muffling his moan, lips painted red with his own blood as he lets her get used to him, that red haze blooming again as tension and arousal shocks through him in a lightning strike. “Gods Flora,” any darlings or my dears are now gone in the face of the deeper accent that leaves him, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as she marks herself with his blood, how his hips rock into her just enough to drive himself deeper with each expert rise and fall of her hips.
Once she’s released his hand and made her demand, he does, with a renewed vigor that he hadn’t seemed to have before. Curling up over her thigh and around to her hips and ass, he leaves possessive marks wherever he can with his fingertips, squeezing and dragging blunt nails up her back to her sides, dragging his thumb across her bouncing breasts, leaving the trail of blood along the dark blooming bruise that will form from his earlier mark. His other hand remains at her breast, toying and tugging at her nipple, which the bloodied hand continues to rise, dragging that bloodied trail up along the hollow of her throat. “Look at you.” He purrs appreciatively, shivering in delight.
Not squeezing her throat, he simply holds her and helps her rise and fall against him, moaning out encouraging sounds and compliments, broken up by how he pants to catch his breath and tries to keep his teeth to himself, driven further by seeing the blood coating her yet trying to stay restrained all the same.
Letting her take his hand and cut his thumb, his hips tremble and his cock twitches as the warm blood drips into his mouth, paired with the sensation of her sinking down onto him. He groans, not even worried about muffling his moan, lips painted red with his own blood as he lets her get used to him, that red haze blooming again as tension and arousal shocks through him in a lightning strike. “Gods Flora,” any darlings or my dears are now gone in the face of the deeper accent that leaves him, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as she marks herself with his blood, how his hips rock into her just enough to drive himself deeper with each expert rise and fall of her hips.
Once she’s released his hand and made her demand, he does, with a renewed vigor that he hadn’t seemed to have before. Curling up over her thigh and around to her hips and ass, he leaves possessive marks wherever he can with his fingertips, squeezing and dragging blunt nails up her back to her sides, dragging his thumb across her bouncing breasts, leaving the trail of blood along the dark blooming bruise that will form from his earlier mark. His other hand remains at her breast, toying and tugging at her nipple, which the bloodied hand continues to rise, dragging that bloodied trail up along the hollow of her throat. “Look at you.” He purrs appreciatively, shivering in delight.
Not squeezing her throat, he simply holds her and helps her rise and fall against him, moaning out encouraging sounds and compliments, broken up by how he pants to catch his breath and tries to keep his teeth to himself, driven further by seeing the blood coating her yet trying to stay restrained all the same.
Astaroth
// take a chance and you could seize it //
