we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
The fingers that drift in his raven dark hair always soothe a bone deep itch, and if it weren’t for the comfortable press of Danta against him and their deepening kiss, the butcher might have leaned so far into the hands that comb through his hair as a complete and utter distraction of everything else. But he doesn’t, instead allowing the goosebumps to ghost along his neck and the brief bit of his shoulder that can be visible with the shift and press of their clothes as he lays back against the bed.
Heat erupts in the room, sweltering and perfect to the point that Astaroth’s tail curves up and winds around Danta’s leg, keeping him close even as he parts the kiss and peppers them against his bearded jaw. Huffing a soft laugh, the butcher exhales an entirely too dramatic sigh. “Absolutely not.” The butcher responds, almost offended, but the smile on his face gives him away. “I didn’t want to be devoured.” His tone returns to that mixture of Astaroth and Ferox, more relaxed than he typically kept it.
His hands smooth down Danta’s back again, before stilling at the top of the leather pants, fingertips toying with the waistband. “And given that I wasn’t Ancient when I lived here, I may have gotten heatstroke with the heat.” The laugh bubbles out of his chest, vibrating through him and Danta in turn with how they’re pressed together. “It’s perfect, though.”
Heat erupts in the room, sweltering and perfect to the point that Astaroth’s tail curves up and winds around Danta’s leg, keeping him close even as he parts the kiss and peppers them against his bearded jaw. Huffing a soft laugh, the butcher exhales an entirely too dramatic sigh. “Absolutely not.” The butcher responds, almost offended, but the smile on his face gives him away. “I didn’t want to be devoured.” His tone returns to that mixture of Astaroth and Ferox, more relaxed than he typically kept it.
His hands smooth down Danta’s back again, before stilling at the top of the leather pants, fingertips toying with the waistband. “And given that I wasn’t Ancient when I lived here, I may have gotten heatstroke with the heat.” The laugh bubbles out of his chest, vibrating through him and Danta in turn with how they’re pressed together. “It’s perfect, though.”
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
