// up above so, up above so quiet //
He hears the skip of his breath, the way the moment feels both quick and slow, the swollen moment of indulgence with the pressure of his lovers hand against his chest while the other works diligently to help get rid of the fabric that’s kept him uncomfortably trapped.
Danta will be able to feel the way the smirk blooms on his face in between the press of his lips, the way he takes the slow inhale to respond, only to have it snuffed out of him a mere moment later once he feels the warm long fingers of the Maverick as they finally find his cock. His breath hitches, and rather than seeing the reaction, Danta would feel the way he seems to let it wash over his face, burying it into the crook of his neck.
“I am sure your imagination will do perfectly.” He responds a touch hoarsely, fingers sweeping back to squeeze his ass while the other mirrors the motion Danta’s done, but around the smooth base of his tail. His cock throbs in his lover’s grip, and Asta readjusts his head to press the kiss back against a jeweled ear. “Is there one you are particularly fond of right now? Or are you at my mercy?” Nipping lightly at his lobe in a way that won’t scratch or draw blood, the butcher lets his question hang in the air.
Danta will be able to feel the way the smirk blooms on his face in between the press of his lips, the way he takes the slow inhale to respond, only to have it snuffed out of him a mere moment later once he feels the warm long fingers of the Maverick as they finally find his cock. His breath hitches, and rather than seeing the reaction, Danta would feel the way he seems to let it wash over his face, burying it into the crook of his neck.
“I am sure your imagination will do perfectly.” He responds a touch hoarsely, fingers sweeping back to squeeze his ass while the other mirrors the motion Danta’s done, but around the smooth base of his tail. His cock throbs in his lover’s grip, and Asta readjusts his head to press the kiss back against a jeweled ear. “Is there one you are particularly fond of right now? Or are you at my mercy?” Nipping lightly at his lobe in a way that won’t scratch or draw blood, the butcher lets his question hang in the air.
Astaroth
// down below so, down below so violent //
