1. Sylus fucking lives to tease you.
• He’ll drag it out forever, just to watch you fall apart: slow as hell kisses, the barest touches, low, dirty whispers that leave your skin burning.
• His favorite thing is seeing you needy, whimpering, desperate for it — and he’ll smirk right in your face like the bastard he is:
“What’s wrong, baby? You want my cock that bad already? Fuck, that’s cute.”
• He’ll edge you mercilessly — pulling back every time you’re close — until you’re practically crying for it, all while he just laughs under his breath, amused at how badly you want him.
2. He’s a handsy little shit — especially when he shouldn’t be.
• Sylus has no concept of keeping his hands to himself.
• At dinner? His fingers are sliding under your dress. In public? He’s palming your ass with a cocky little smirk.
• He loves making you squirm, biting your lip to stay quiet while he teases you ruthlessly.
• Sometimes he’ll lean in real close, voice low and dirty, and whisper:
“The second we’re alone, I’m gonna bend you over and fuck you so good you’ll forget your own goddamn name.”
• And when the door finally closes? He makes good on every filthy promise.
3. Sylus is a fucking god at oral — and he fucking knows it.
• When he’s between your thighs, he’s relentless: slow, deep, messy — like he needs to taste you until you’re shaking.
• He loves the way you whimper and beg, the way you fist his hair and moan his name like a prayer.
• He doesn’t stop until you’re a wreck, overstimulated and sobbing, and even then he’ll drag it out just to hear you fucking scream for him.
• When you’re on your knees for him? He’s vocal as hell:
“Fuck, just like that, kitten. That’s it. Goddamn, you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat.”
• He’ll grip your hair tight, groaning low and filthy, losing that perfect control he usually likes to flex.
4. He’s a dom — but he fucking loves when you fight him a little.
• Sylus loves pinning you down, forcing you to take it just how he wants — but if you get a little bratty, if you push him, he gets off on it.
• If you ride him, grinding down until he’s cursing and gripping your hips hard enough to bruise? You’ll see that cocky composure shatter fast.
• He’ll pant against your throat, voice rough and desperate:
“Fuck, baby, you wanna be in charge? Fine. Fuck yourself on my cock. Show me how bad you fucking want it.”
• He’ll still flip you over eventually — Sylus can’t resist claiming you when you’re all flushed and trembling.
5. Dirty talk is just second nature to him.
• Every filthy thought that crosses Sylus’s mind? He says it — right in your ear while he’s pounding into you so hard the bed shakes.
• He’s fucking relentless with the filth that falls from his mouth:
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight. You feel that? That’s me, baby. Gonna fill you up until you can’t even fucking think.”
• He won’t shut up — praising you, degrading you, whispering about how good you feel, how fucking wrecked you look under him.
• Aftercare? He’s softer — but still dirty, murmuring:
“You took it so fucking good, sweet thing. Shit, look at you… fuckin’ perfect.”
6. He’s obsessed with marking you up.
• Hickeys all over your thighs. Bite marks on your tits. Scratches down your back.
• He needs to see his claim on you — and he gets fucking feral if someone else even looks at you afterward.
• He’ll mutter shit like:
“No hiding ‘em, kitten. Everyone’s gonna see who you fucking belong to.”
• If you leave scratches on him? It drives him fucking wild — like you’re staking a claim right back.
7. Despite all the cocky filth, he’s sensual as fuck when it counts.
• When Sylus really fucks you — it’s not just rough and dirty (though it is that too) — it’s slow, deep, overwhelming.
• He kisses you like he’s starving, touches you like you’re something precious, moves inside you like he’s trying to memorize every fucking second.
• He grits out your name against your skin, voice wrecked with feeling he won’t admit:
“Mine. You fucking hear me, baby? You’re mine.”
• And when he finally comes? It’s with a deep groan against your neck, his hands clutching you like he’ll never let go.
