sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth

in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue

The fire crackles a line of heat and need right up the length of Danta's spine and down to the base of his tail, the feeling alone enough to have him gasping for breath between each brutal snap of Asta's hips. Biting at his lower lip enough for a fang to nick the soft flesh, it's with the faintest curl of iron in the air that he moans out the butcher's name, utterly undone already even without the rising pleasure deep at his core that heralds the inevitable.

"Fuck, yes--" he bites out, relishing every possessive touch, every rough groan he can drag from Asta's throat, the pressure of his tail matching every hard thrust against him. "Like that, don't stop." He hardly need to say it, his head hanging lower and his eyes pressing shut even behind the silk of the blindfold. "Gods, I'm gonna cum--"

Dantalion