seiryu hinoarashi

b — body part

Your neck and shoulders.

It's a dragon instinct: to mark, to feel the pulse beneath his lips, to breathe in your scent. Sylus loves it when you tilt your head back, offering the line of your throat to your beloved, and he can drag his teeth along it, knowing you trust him. Afterwards, he takes pleasure in studying his own marks on your skin and rubbing his cheek against them, trying in doing so to take all the pain—even the slightest—upon himself.

c — cum

Where does he like to finish? Wherever he wants.

In truth, it depends on his mood, but more often than not, he prefers to finish deep inside you, whispering into your hair: "You have no idea, kitten, how much I missed this feeling."

Sylus's volume of semen is quite plentiful, and the moment he withdraws, the thick white trickle running down your thighs instantly hypnotises him. Your man watches without averting his gaze as his seed glistens on your swollen folds, seeps down your perineum onto the sheet, forming a small pool.

He gathers the escaping droplets with his still-aroused tip and smears them from your clit down to your entrance, using slow circular motions, then carefully slides his cock back inside before pulling out again, stretching the translucent-white strands.

d — dirty talk

Sylus, to be honest, isn't a fan of that sort of thing. He might chat with you during the act, but it's unlikely to be commentary about how tight your pussy is or how well you're taking him.

Your man considers it absolute sacrilege and disrespect to address his partner using degrading clichés like "slut" or "little bitch." Yes, he's a criminal overlord, and everyone fears him, but Sylus is always gentle and respectful towards you, so his dirty talk is more a mixture of compliments and possessively charged remarks that spill from his lips unconsciously, yet always at the right moment. Even your name, uttered reverently on an exhale, can sound more indecent than any curse word.

e — experience

Behind his broad shoulders lies a long life across past incarnations, and his experience isn't defined by the number of partners — in each of those lives, he loved only you. Sylus remembers what you liked centuries ago, and thanks to that memory, he knows exactly where to brush his lips to make you arch and where to linger to make you forget your own name. Your man is a generous and patient lover, ready to encourage and explore all the facets of pleasure only with you.

f — favourite position

Cowgirl.

Sylus adores it when you sit on top and move on your own. He may lie there with his hands tucked behind his head, following with half-lidded eyes the bounce of your breasts and the way your mouth falls open on a particularly deep thrust. He deliberately holds his hands back so as not to interfere with the pace you've chosen.

His favourite part is the moment when you grow tired or start to lose the rhythm: that's when he takes over, flipping you onto your back, stroking your trembling thighs and calves with warm palms, and changing the angle of penetration.

g — goofy

In bed, he rarely laughs, but if you say something dirty or get too openly flustered, a smirk flickers across his face. Sylus doesn't turn intimacy into a comedy, but he might allow himself a little light teasing. He only becomes completely serious in moments when he senses you're trying to hide your genuine reaction — his voice grows softer, and his touches gentler, until he figures out what's going on.

h — hair

He supports smoothness for his own comfort.

He's absolutely neutral about the hair on your body: for Sylus, naturalness is part of the attraction. If you worry about it, he might dryly remark: "You think something like that has ever stopped me?" — and will prove it through action.

i — intimacy

Sylus knows how and loves to court you beautifully. He considers your heel as his own crown, and you — his queen. And like any self-respecting sovereign, he prefers to lavish his precious one with luxury and love.

Sylus's love is contained in heavy velvet, in the gleam of jewellery, and in the absolute power he lays at your feet. Your dragon bestows gifts and proves things through actions, rather than scattering promises left and right.

Instead of grand declarations, he will adjust the slipped strap of your dress, hold the door with his palm so you don't bump your shoulder on the frame, and pour wine into your glass first without even asking. Sylus believes that romance is when you never have to ask for the little things. He notices on his own whether you're cold or tired and makes sure you feel good.

j — jerk off

He engages in self-pleasure infrequently; he prefers to wait to be with you. Thoughts of you nearby always arouse the man more strongly than the prerogative of his own hand.

During times apart, you love surprising Sylus with your photographs or with a call before sleep, during which you talk in a seductively insinuating way about how much you've missed him. Your man is obviously not made of iron, so after a couple of minutes of this exchange, you hear how heavily and unevenly he breathes into the receiver, begging you to keep talking to him.

k — kink

Bondage is a classic. He likes seeing how much you trust him, enough to let him restrict your freedom. However, Sylus also loves it when you do the same to him, watching how bashfully yet resolutely you tighten a knot around his wrists.

Beyond restraint, what can drive him to ecstasy is the way you dig your nails into his back, tracing red lines along the tensed muscles around his shoulder blades. The scratches stay with him deliberately for a long time, because Sylus can't bring himself to heal and thereby erase the marks.

l — location

Sylus values unhurriedness. He likes to stretch the pleasure out for hours, to study each of your reactions, to change rhythm and return to a kiss that was interrupted a minute ago. That's why his enormous bed in the mansion remains the main place on his list of favourite surfaces for making love. There's enough space there for any position, and the black silk sheets cool your heated skin just enough to shake off the heat and start all over again.

In bed, Sylus feels master of both the situation and time. No one will enter without knocking or interrupt mid-sentence. He can allow himself to linger with his lips on your collarbone, to freeze for a moment, contemplating you with reverence, and then to pull you close again.

m — motivation

The sight of you holding his pistol can flip Sylus into "take you here and now" mode in a second.

The man also noticeably hardens when you don't avert your gaze, when you argue with him and show your character. Naturally, Sylus would never deliberately provoke you emotionally just to stroke his own ego and feed off your negativity. He's simply accepted as a given that he can sometimes irritate you.

n — no

He'll never hurt you if you haven't asked for it and the boundaries haven't been discussed. He won't allow himself to humiliate you or make you feel used; he abhors coercion — it's important to him that your "yes" is given freely. For Sylus, sex is always a dialogue in which he is sincerely engaged.

o — oral

He prefers giving rather than receiving. For the man, there is no more pleasant activity than being between your legs, feeling how you tremble on his tongue, how your thighs clasp his head, how your fingers clench his hair and pull him closer. If it were up to him, he would spend hours merely caressing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

On his side — he loves it when you take him into your mouth on your own, showing the initiative to give him pleasure, especially if you're looking up from below; he lazily places a palm on the back of your head, playing with your strands and gently guiding you.

p — pace

Sylus is a master of drawing out and delivering pleasure: he may start by moving inside you teasingly slowly, and then abruptly switch to a hard rhythm that makes things go dark before both of your eyes. The pace is always dictated by his mood, but most often he alternates these phases, pushing you to the peak and then receding, until you start clawing at his back.

q — quickie

After successful auctions, you always feel very excited and impatient. Sylus would prefer to take you home and draw out the pleasure, but when you settle onto his lap right in the back seat of the car and whisper "now," his will crumbles.

Sylus doesn't rush to unbuckle his belt, because he knows that if he enters you right then, he won't be able to stop, and the short ride home will turn into an uncontrollable storm. Instead, his palm slips under your dress, his long fingers confidently find the edge of your underwear, and he begins torturously slow circular motions right over the center through the fabric.

Orgasm washes over you in just a couple of minutes — ragged, convulsive, leaving a damp spot on his trousers and your panties. When your body finally relaxes on top of him, Sylus withdraws his fingers, licks them clean with a lazy smirk, and unflappably straightens your clothes.

It's only when the car pulls up to the mansion that you notice how white the knuckles of his fingers have turned, gripping the armrest with force.

r — risk

Sylus stops the motorbike on a deserted stretch of road, puts down the kickstand, and cuts the engine after you'd spent the whole ride teasing him and touching him through the fabric of his heavy trousers. He pulls off his gloves with his teeth, tucks your hair behind your ear, kisses your lips, and in one motion seats you facing him, helping you peel your sweatpants and underwear down to your ankles, only to then sling your legs over his shoulders.

You giggle, feel shy, try to pull away and cross your legs. Sylus is already between your thighs, dragging his tongue in a wide stripe along your slick cleft, savouring your choked whimper that breaks past your bitten lip. His mouth works greedily and precisely — he licks, sucks, presses the tip of his tongue to your clit, and you arch on the seat, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head. Your fingers latch into his hair, tugging, tangling in the strands, and you can't hold back the moans — they burst out loudly, shattering against the dry air of the road.

Somewhere at the edge of your consciousness flits the thought: what if a car drives by right now? Or another motorbike?

Your trust in your man outweighs the anxiety, because you know — no matter what, Sylus won't let the situation escalate too far; he has carefully assessed the surroundings and will never let any stranger see you exposed or out of control. Your state of vulnerability belongs only to him. Should a threat arise that you might be seen, he will instantly shield you with his body or cover your shoulders with his jacket, snarling over his shoulder at whoever was bold enough to interrupt.

s — stamina

Superhuman. Thanks to his regeneration and endurance, Sylus is capable of several rounds without breaking his own pace. He gifts you his love for hours, changing rhythms and positions. What limits him is not fatigue, but the desire to give you rest — rest that you rarely agree to, because you are just as greedy as Sylus himself.

t — toy

He views toys with curiosity but doesn't feel a need to use them, as he prefers to rely on his own skills. However, if you express a desire, Sylus will choose something wisely — for instance, a vibrator that can be controlled remotely. He loves watching your reactions to stimulation while holding the small remote above your head and chaotically pressing the buttons, changing the vibration modes.

u — underneath

Sylus has at least several pairs of boxers from every luxury brand that springs to your mind. He only wears underwear to events and to work; at home, he prefers to feel free. After all, he has nothing and no one to be embarrassed about.

v — volume

Usually quiet. A low growl, uneven breathing, rare husky exhales. But it also happens that even a man like Sylus loses control of himself. For example, if you clench tightly around him or whisper about your love for him, he might let out a deep, almost animalistic moan that sends shivers racing across your skin and makes your release arrive faster.

w — wild card

Sylus has a fetish for fragrance. He collects rare scents and can select perfumes for you, only to later savour the way they unfold on your skin throughout the day. What excites him especially is when you smell like him after sex — your scents mixing together, which makes him spend hours nuzzling, burying his nose in your neck, your hair, your stomach, and purring with satisfaction.

x — x-ray

Larger than average. For Sylus himself, the size of his equipment doesn't hold much significance, because the most important thing is how he uses it. But if we're talking details: a noticeable upward curve, which allows him to reach the most sensitive spots in any position.

y — yearning

Very high, but Sylus knows how to control it. Before he met you, he suppressed it with work, fighting, and danger. Now, however, his desire is directed exclusively at you and is almost always "switched on" in the background. He might not touch you for hours, days, or weeks, but his gaze is such that he's already undressed you mentally a dozen times. The moment you give the slightest hint — his restraint shatters in that very instant.

z — zzz

He doesn't fall asleep right away after sex. Sylus needs to make sure you are satisfied, washed, fed, tucked in, and feel safe. He can spend a long time stroking your back, sharing stories with you in the even, deep tone of his voice, and only once you fall asleep on his chest does he allow himself to relax.