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
Everywhere else, he was certainly the black widow type. Here, though? It was far more likely growing up that he would be devoured rather than reaching the point where he could return the favor. As for it being lucky that he’s only a visitor to this place, Astaroth snorts into the press of Danta against his neck, the low laugh breaking from his chest, head tilting automatically to give him all the room he required if he wanted to spend more time against his revealed skin.
His fingers continue to toy with the waistband, dragging along the soft and warm pale skin beneath it in slow arcs, ones that pause when Danta grinds his hips down and Asta shivers with a small sound of encouragement. “The perfect cross.” The butcher hums, something poetic popping into his mind of ice and fire, but it doesn’t last as he’s silenced from saying anything more with Danta’s kiss, the muffled admission that pours into his mouth.
It’s like the sweetest wine, and the butcher presses up against him to delve into the press of his kiss. Parting only briefly as his hands move again to only make those leather pants tighter as he dips his hands in beneath them, cupping his lover’s ass. “You feel good.” He counters, lips quirking briefly into the smirk that blooms before he’s arching back up against the Maverick, claiming another chaste kiss before he’s drawing back down against the furs and soft mattress and pulling Danta further down with him, rocking his hips up against him in turn with his own blossoming arousal. Between the heat and the comfort already sparked, the ghost of iron on his tongue, he’s already flushing with heat against his cheeks.
His fingers continue to toy with the waistband, dragging along the soft and warm pale skin beneath it in slow arcs, ones that pause when Danta grinds his hips down and Asta shivers with a small sound of encouragement. “The perfect cross.” The butcher hums, something poetic popping into his mind of ice and fire, but it doesn’t last as he’s silenced from saying anything more with Danta’s kiss, the muffled admission that pours into his mouth.
It’s like the sweetest wine, and the butcher presses up against him to delve into the press of his kiss. Parting only briefly as his hands move again to only make those leather pants tighter as he dips his hands in beneath them, cupping his lover’s ass. “You feel good.” He counters, lips quirking briefly into the smirk that blooms before he’s arching back up against the Maverick, claiming another chaste kiss before he’s drawing back down against the furs and soft mattress and pulling Danta further down with him, rocking his hips up against him in turn with his own blossoming arousal. Between the heat and the comfort already sparked, the ghost of iron on his tongue, he’s already flushing with heat against his cheeks.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
