[SE] sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth

babylon lovers hanging lifetimes on a vine

What's meant to be a laugh—oh they'll hear it alright—instead sounds like a strangled sob as a whip crack snaps down Remi's spine, tensing every muscle in his legs and lower abdomen as he feels his orgasm balloon inside of him. There's a moment of tension where it feels as though the pleasure is too great, that his mind and body are too small to contain the euphoric sensations roaring through his veins, and that it'll destroy him if he can't find a way of getting out ahead of it. It has his eyes all but rolling back into his head as his claws sink deep enough into their mattress before straining against the bed frame itself as his soul threatens to flee his body entirely in a last act of desperation.

No doubt Remi will have as much apologizing to do later as Ronin given the way his hips buck up with the force of his orgasm, the bastion being a good deal more rough this time than he had the day in Frey's Breath the pair had first experimented with this sort of thing. Perhaps he'll even have to apologize for the sounds he makes—though Ronin hadn't said anything about Torchline being able to understand him—because the sounds roar from the Bastion's lips are feral at best and monstrous at worse. The last shred of rationality under his employ is used to retract the claws of the hand in Ronin's hair so as not to accidentally scalp his husband before the world dissolves into the most vibrant spray of wild blue and gold.

For what feels like a lifetime Remi is adrift. He doesn't bother to try and catch his breath, doesn't bother to try and situate his mind and body in the slow spinning eternity that has settled over his body, doesn't bother to be anything other than wildly satisfied and properly fucked.

it felt like somethin' holy, like souls bleeding