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You shudder as Sylus drags his tongue along your dripping cunt. You try to squirm away but his face is lodged snugly between your shaky thighs.
You huff, tired and amused, and run a hand through his silver hair.
“It’s getting late,” you say, to which he lets out a disapproving moan, the vibrations of it against your sensitive clit sending sparks through you.
You’ve already cum several times tonight. When he pushed you against the wall and fell to his knees the moment you walked through the door after a long trip from Linkon City. When he pulled aside your underwear to snake his fingers into your aching heat. When he’d replaced those talented fingers with his tongue and had you screaming his name when you spilled into his waiting mouth. You’d divested Sylus and yourself of the rest of your clothes and promptly fell into bed for a few more rounds.
There’s a wet sound as his mouth unlatches from you and he says, “Just one more, sweetie. Please.” His eyes are glazed over, drunk on the taste of you. His lips are swollen and glistening with your spend and you feel yourself clench at the sight of him, begging to eat you out again. “I’ll make it worth your while.” His voice is a luscious, airy rasp, his breath hot against your cunt.
You can’t help but chuckle and reach down to run your hand along his flushed cheek. “Needy little crow.” Your thumb swipes across his wet lips as Sylus lets out a whorish moan, his eyelids fluttering.
Gently, you guide his head down between your legs and let him suck on your clit once again.
Sylus takes to it like a calf to a teat. He eats you out like he was made for it. A slut to your every pleasure.
His tongue laps at your entrance, teasing and testing the give of your sensitive flesh. He moans against you, shuddering every time you dig your nails into his scalp. But his pace never wavers. One hand presses down on your lower abdomen, preventing you from bucking up, while his other hand wraps around the hinge of your leg and keeps you spread for him.
You grind against his face, chasing the shockwaves of pleasure, your steel grip on his hair keeping Sylus exactly where you want him—where you need him.
You gasp when his tongue pierces you, deep and hot and so so wet. The lewd squelching sounds of his tongue-fucking combined with Sylus’ desperate moans has you approaching the edge all too quickly.
“Fuck—Sylus!—“ You roll your hips, swallowing more of his tongue deeper into your pussy, forcing him to fuck you deeper. You want him between your legs until he’s gasping for it, torn between begging for air or for more of your intoxicating cunt.
Your restlessness encourages him to slip two fingers inside you, pumping deep and fast in time with his tongue. The stretch and sudden feeling of fullness has you crying out, releasing shaky sighs and wanton moans.
Sylus removes his tongue in favor of filling you up with four of his fingers. “Fuck. You know I'd do anything for you.” His free hand reaches up to knead your tits, pressing the blunt nail of his thumb down on your hard pert nipple, eliciting a keening whine from you. “Just ask me—”
His words die out as you shove his head back down to your heat, rolling your hips against his face. You climax the moment his mouth locks around your clit, his fingers curling inside you at the same time.
His name slips past your lips as you quake through your orgasm, spasms of pleasure racketing your body, making you clamp down hard on his fingers as they continue to thrust in and out of you.
You melt into the sheets after the last wave of pleasure fizzles out. Sylus drops soft, lazy kisses against your clit, mouthing gently at the seam of your entrance. He withdraws his hand, lifts his face from between your legs to meet your gaze, then sucks on his drenched fingers.
Tantalized, you dig your heels into Sylus’ lower back to coax him up your body. When he rises, you see his heavy cock pressed against his lower stomach. It’s swollen red, waiting to be used by you all night, but you haven’t let him cum once.
“Come here." You guide his head into the crook of your neck. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock and smile when he gives a full body shudder, gasping into your shoulder. His arms bracket you, shaking as he tries to keep his weight off you.
You give long, firm strokes to his shaft, rewarding every stuttering whine he makes with a squeeze of his cockhead. You know it drives him crazy, how you play with his most sensitive parts as if he were a new shiny toy. He thrusts into your hand greedily, and you can tell he’s so close. One word from you would unravel him.
But not yet. You want to string him out just a little longer, just enough to push him beyond desperation and into total submission.
“Poor little crow,” you murmur, “Is my hand not enough?” You’re playing with him, you know he’d cum right then and there, but you want to see the panic that shoots through his eyes.
“Nnng,” he chokes out before he doubles over when you give a forceful tug on his length.
“Do you want more?” You bite his ear. “Greedy thing.” In one swift motion, you push him onto his back and climb on top of him, trapping his pulsing dick against your damp folds. Your mouth opens in awe as you admire Sylus’ absolutely wrecked expression. Flush cheeks, mouth and chin stained with your essence, vermillion eyes burning with need as they gaze up at you. Your hands run up the hard plains of his stomach, along his heaving chest, and tease his hard nipples. He catches your hand and brings it to his mouth, suckling on the tender skin of your wrist.
God, you love him like this. You could cum again just from watching his tongue lap at your skin. Instead, you lean forward until your face is inches from his and you say to him, “You don’t cum until I say so, do you understand?”
His cock twitches beneath you. He nods his head, but you click your tongue in disapproval. You clamp your hand around his throat and give one firm squeeze. “I need your words, Sylus.”
“Yes, I understand.” He holds your stare, and although his eyes are hazy with desire, there’s a sharpness there—a look that undeniably belongs to your Sylus. And you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the trust in his gaze, the unquestioning devotion as he reassuringly strokes the hand around his throat.
You’re the only one who could possibly do anything to me, he’d said to you once.
And here he is, below you, asking for something only you could give him.
You reward him with a kiss and the surety of your body as you seat yourself fully on his cock. You swallow his gasp of surprise, relishing in his struggle to restrain himself from pounding into you.
You release him from your kiss. “Fuck me.”
His hips snap against you and there’s nothing you can do except brace yourself against his chest as he sets a fierce, desperate pace, chasing his own pleasure now.
Sparks fly behind your vision. You savor the fullness of him, the hot friction of your bodies, and the insatiable glide of his cock inside you. You still have a hand around his neck, nearly pressing all your upper weight down on his slender throat.
He fucks you through another orgasm. He keens when you clench around him and you’re sure he’s going to cum and break your order.
Sylus pulls out of you instead, and pride blooms in your chest. You give him a moment to catch his breath before sliding back on his cock, ignoring his groans of protest as you do. You set the pace this time, not minding the bruising grip he keeps on your hips.
He’s struggling a lot now. You watch the panic flicker across his face whenever he thinks he’s close. There’s something so . . . precious about the look of despair on his face when you pull off of him and roughly grip the base of his cock. His face twisted, staving off his orgasm with everything he has. To please you. You adore the choked, relieved sounds he makes when you gradually slot him back inside and resume your torturous rhythm. Tears start to pool at the corners of his eyes by the time you decide to be merciful.
“Only I get to see you like this,” you whisper, “Say it.”
Sylus mewls. “O-only you—oh fuck.” He hisses when you grind down hard. “Only you get to s-see me . . . like this.” His eyes are suddenly very wide, mouth open in a soundless scream. “‘M close—please! . . . ”
Oh Sylus.
You bend down to kiss him one last time before you say, “Cum for me.”
With a final jerk of his hips, he spills deep into you. He breaks away from the kiss and releases a desperate cry. He keeps fucking you through his own climax, pumping the cum that’s dripping down his cock back into you. His arms are steel bars around your waist but you don’t mind. You press open-mouthed kisses down his neck, his chest. You whisper praises into his ear and brush his damp hair away from his exhausted face.
His softened cock eventually slips out of you. You lay your head against his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. One more sound that you can’t live without.
You lay there until you begin to shiver from the cold and the sticky sensation of your bodies becomes less tolerable. You peer down at your partner.
“Sylus, my love?”
He doesn’t respond, but you expected this. He’s slipped somewhere else, judging from his serene, worryless expression. But when you shift off of him, his hand tightens around your hip. You meet his half-lidded eyes and mumble soft reassurances to him.
You leave to prepare the bath. You return for Sylus when it’s ready and gently lead him to the hot water.
You exchange no words. Sylus dutifully cleans the sweat and other fluids from your body while you lather and rinse his skin. You check his throat for injuries, but whatever bruises may have formed have already healed. You chuckle when he plants kisses on the back of your neck. You’ll never get tired of his affection, of the ways he’s opened himself up to you. You’d ruin any person who would threaten the love the two of you share.
You dry off and slip fresh clothes on. You swap out the bedsheets with clean ones before guiding Sylus back to bed.
Some time passes before Sylus’ voice breaks the unhurried silence.
“Are you going back to Linkon tomorrow?”
You close the book you were reading to turn toward him. He’s laying on his side, staring up at you with those clear, sharp eyes of his. You smile and shake your head. “I’ve got some time off.” You run the back of your hand along his cheek, heart squeezing when his eyes close briefly.
“I was hoping to stay with you . . . if that’s agreeable.”
Sylus wraps his arms around you and pulls you down against his chest, burying his nose in your hair. “That is more than agreeable,” he murmurs.
You cling to him. “Was I too rough?” you ask after a moment.
Sylus pulls away from you just enough so he can cup your face. “You,” he says, “were perfect.”
A beat passes before you notice the slow formation of a smirk across his wondrous lips. “Although, for next time, use a little more force when you choke me out. I’m not made out of glass, sweetie.”
You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, my love.”