#sylus

you don’t even know why you say it. you’re not the praising type. not really. you tease. you moan. you beg sometimes when he makes you—when he’s in one of those moods, all pushy and mean, telling you to use your manners, sweetheart, like he isn’t already two fingers deep and spreading you open slow just to watch your eyes roll.

and sylus isn’t the kind of guy who needs it either. he’s cold. not just at work. always. cold voice, cold hands, cold look over his shoulder like he’s already ten steps past you in his head. nobody phases him. nobody cracks him. nobody gets to touch him and see him at the same time.

but you do.

and he lets you.

and right now—he’s letting you fuck him soft and slow, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, your hips rolling lazy on top of his while his hand’s curled low around your ass, guiding you, controlling you even when you’re the one on top. that’s how he likes it. how he needs it.

so maybe it’s that. maybe it’s the look on his face. maybe it’s the way his brows are twitching together, like he’s fighting something off—like if he lets you go even a little harder he’s gonna say something stupid, something real.

you’re already gone. you feel too good. you’re too wet. you’re not thinking. so you say it. “you feel so good, sylus.” just like that. soft. breathy. like you mean it. and the second you do—he freezes.

not all the way, not like he’s pulling back. more like he’s startled. like you hit something he didn’t know was there.

“…what?”

you blink down at him, rocking slow. “i said you feel good—”

“don’t.” his voice is raw. strained. quiet like it’s been scraped thin.

you laugh a little, teasing. “what, i’m not allowed to praise you now?”

“no,” he mutters. “you’re not.”

but he’s gripping you harder. his thighs are trembling. he’s looking at you like he’s pissed, but underneath it—underneath that perfect, surgical composure—he’s wrecked.

and you know why. you know him. you know this man who never needs anything, who never lets anyone in, who fucks you like he’s punishing himself for liking it—and now you know what breaks him.

“baby,” you whisper, soft as sin. “you’re so deep. you’re so good to me—so fucking good—”

his breath hitches. he shudders. his grip goes punishing and he grits through his teeth, “shut up,” but it’s not mean. it’s not real. it’s desperate.

so of course you don’t. of course you ride him slow and stroke his face and kiss his jaw and say, “you make me feel so good. you’re perfect. you always take care of me. nobody fucks me like you do—”

and that’s what does it. that. right there. because suddenly he’s groaning into your mouth like he’s never cum before in his life, like you’re fucking wringing the soul out of him with every word, every grind, every good boy whispered between your kisses.

he bucks once. spills deep. and he goes completely still underneath you, eyes wide, lips parted, chest heaving while he shoots every last drop into you without warning, without even knowing it’s happening until it’s too late, until you’re clenching around him and stroking his hair and smiling down like you knew this would happen all along.

you kiss his cheek. he doesn’t move.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you—fuck. don’t ever say that again.”

you laugh. and kiss him harder.

Damn 😩.... dragon kiss

~ I feel like I be saying the same things in different fonts but this has been lingering in my head for at least a month now so why not.

Sylus cannot stop spitting on your pussy during sex. You could be sopping wet, a mix of his cum and yours literally everywhere. All over your cunt, your thighs, dripping down your ass. It's still not wet enough, every so often he just spits down on where his cock disappears inside of you to make it even wetter.

Xavier eats you front to back, you don't think there is a time where he's gone down on you and not licked your ass too. You're mortified about it, make a point to really deep clean yourself up prior to seeing him. He's eating you to the bone, licking and sucking and biting every inch of you from the top of your thighs all the way down and around to the small of your back.

Caleb loves the smell of your pussy, an obsession that goes far beyond stealing your panties for personal use. He'll purposely eat you out with the blankets over his head to be enveloped by the heady scent that is you and your arousal. You swear you feel his nose burying between your slick folds more than his tongue.

Rafayel is into snowballing after he cums in your mouth. Don't swallow, don't spill either. He's tugging you up to his level and crashing his lips against yours, a sloppy mix of tongue and teeth as you pass whatever of his cum remains in your mouth over to his before he's pushing it back into your own again.