L¤GAN ☆ REB

"You're such a fucking cunt," you huffed out, face hot and breath strained.

"Well, I'd say I am fuckin' cunt," Lucas drawled with a smirk, shoving his hips upward to get deeper inside, and to jostle you into movement again. Despite his rickety appearance, his muscles were strong, enhanced by the Mold and a feral desire to ruin all he came into contact with.

"You aren't fucking shit, asshole." The little jerk of Lucas's hips had you in motion again, burning thighs bringing you back up, then falling down once more. His grayed flesh smacked against yours, your thighs much softer and more substantial in comparison to his stick-thin legs. Soft skin and fat jolted from hitting hard, inhuman muscle stretched thin under even thinner epithelium. "Closer to me fuckin' you, backwards prick."

While Lucas could have been insulted by the comment, he let it slide off him like water from a duck's back- or, rather, like blood from a Molded done tearing through an unsuspecting victim. He grinned and gripped your hips, digging those strong, long fingers into thicker, warmer skin to reach the unyielding bone of your pelvis beneath.

"You jus' mad 'cause you know you wuv me, your dear ol' Lucas!" He grinned to show off uneven teeth, eyes scrunching from the sheer force of the smile, zygomaticus muscles pulling up and back to spread his dry lips like an innocent smirk, ruined by the saliva dripping thickly around those yellowed incisors.

"You're- ugh- damn lucky I love your moldy ass." You rolled your eyes and tossed your head back when your hair got in your sweaty face, sticking as if you'd been doused in sweet honey. Though from how Lucas glanced you over, bright blue eyes enthralled and searching over every little part of your body for evidence of his claim, your ruination.

"Jus' wait 'til Evie gets your tight little ass," he giggled out, biting his thicker bottom lip as the upper, thinner one stretched across his teeth like it was shrink-wrapped. "Gon' be just as fucked up as the rest a us, like me!" He hooted a cackle and from where your hands rested on his sunken stomach you could feel superhumanly strengthened musculature bounce with his glee; it made you wonder why he even had you in this position, riding him like the proper partner you were.

You replied in turn by picking yourself up on burning thigh muscles, bringing yourself down again hard. He broke off from his jubilation with an equally gleeful moan, eyes pinching shut at the feeling.

"Goddamn, you're fuckin' good at this," Lucas hissed out, wrinkled brow creasing, shining with sweat.

"Yeah, good at it 'cause you never fuck me yourself," you grouched, panting as you picked up the pace again. He groaned and his eyes rolled back. You were reminded of your first time with Lucas, when he burst within you the second you seated yourself entirely on his length. Oh, you remembered the sheen of tears that graced his hazy eyes, how he pushed at you to get you away and hide his embarrassment.

"Scared you'll still be a quick shot?" you reminded him of the premature ends to your first few times together, and that had his eyes snapping open. Yes, he could take your usual teasing, but this was about his masculinity!

"I ain't no quick shot," he rumbled back, brows furrowed so steeply that a few wrinkles disappeared, only for double to knit themselves between his thin eyebrows.

"Really now?" You gasped for air at the physical exertion and the pleasure, but it did nothing to extinguish the bratty flame of satisfaction welling in your chest. "Because I remember- ngh, fuck that's good- you came so quick I had to ride your stupid face after to even get off. That why you make me fuck you like this, Leww-cas?"

There: the widening of his eyes; the sneer at his lip; and the way his pupils bloomed and constricted in turn like an addict's, uneven, soaked with the volatility of a Southern man insinuated to be effete. It all just filled you with a mischievous satisfaction that you hoped would be fucked out of you.

Lucas gritted his teeth and his eyes blazed with hate. That was what signaled his rising irritation, what gave away the evidence of your prodding.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, and it almost felt like his phalanges scraped the wings of your pelvis, shoving you down until his tip drove against a patch of nerves in the anterior wall of your hole.

"You're one fucking-" he grunted and rose upward, his jaw dropping. His cock twitched hard in the sheath of your cunt, abundantly evident that even then he barely held off from filling you before you got your own climax. "-sadistic little bitch!"