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
He is perfect. For every single thing the butcher has ever laid his eyes on or come in contact with, the Maverick was perfect in each and every way. Even back then in the darkest dredges of their combined history, when they were at ends with one another — Danta was his perfect opponent. The perfect match. Never in a million years would he have believed he’d be here now, but gods if Danta isn’t bleached into the black pit of his heart, impossible to rid himself of even if he wanted to.
And he really, really doesn’t want to. He’s happy to live and breathe him, to be his and claim him as his own. A perfect myriad of obsession and chaotic desire. And with each and every second they spend together, he’s reminded again and again of just how much he wants to drown in Danta’s silver tongue and diamond horns.
Danta, as expected, sinks back against him and he’s helpless to ignore making him do all of the work. So as his lover’s silent request is made, the butcher gives in, his hips rocking into him with a low growl of a moan of his own. The flame collar burns brighter around his throat as Asta’s hands find purchase against his lover’s hips, fingertips digging in enough to bruise. And with the quick and needy pace they’d started at, the butcher finds himself slowing a touch if only to readjust them again.
Essentially manhandling him, the butcher’s hand flattens against Danta’s chest, drawing him up and back against him as he sinks back onto his heels, burying his face into his neck as the collar of flames part to offer a muffled “How are you enjoying your view?” He asks, breathy and muffled against his lover’s skin, peering at him from the reflection as his free hand drags across his lover’s lower stomach, toward his nearly forgotten cock.
And he really, really doesn’t want to. He’s happy to live and breathe him, to be his and claim him as his own. A perfect myriad of obsession and chaotic desire. And with each and every second they spend together, he’s reminded again and again of just how much he wants to drown in Danta’s silver tongue and diamond horns.
Danta, as expected, sinks back against him and he’s helpless to ignore making him do all of the work. So as his lover’s silent request is made, the butcher gives in, his hips rocking into him with a low growl of a moan of his own. The flame collar burns brighter around his throat as Asta’s hands find purchase against his lover’s hips, fingertips digging in enough to bruise. And with the quick and needy pace they’d started at, the butcher finds himself slowing a touch if only to readjust them again.
Essentially manhandling him, the butcher’s hand flattens against Danta’s chest, drawing him up and back against him as he sinks back onto his heels, burying his face into his neck as the collar of flames part to offer a muffled “How are you enjoying your view?” He asks, breathy and muffled against his lover’s skin, peering at him from the reflection as his free hand drags across his lover’s lower stomach, toward his nearly forgotten cock.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
