it stings sometimes

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

It's everything that Danta has been craving, from the possessive hands that grip and manoeuvre him to the groan that vibrates against his lips, his wicked fingers stroking against the butcher's cock even as he's shoved back against the bed. Gasping into the open air to feel lips and teeth tease once more at the bite on his neck, Danta can already see the rainbow of bruises that will follow in the wake of tonight; against his throat, his shoulders, his ribs, his thighs. Now more than ever, not only will the Maverick wear those marks proudly (something he has always done, granted); he looks forward to each and every one.

Hitching in a breath to feel Asta's presence vanish from over him, as it happens there's no need for him to worry, because in the next moment he's being drawn towards the edge of the bed. Dark anticipation alights in his eyes, Danta gazing up expectantly at the other man, lips painted red and body coated in ash, only for the expression to break into something overwhelmed and needy as a skilled hand grasps at his cock.

"Fuck, Asta..." Hissing out the breath that has been caught in his chest, he hooks his legs about the butcher's hips enough to tug him playfully closer. With hands balling against the ruined sheets and his cock throbbing hard in Asta's grip, he has no intention of leaving the other man without a show worth watching.

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //