īŧ once sasuke's driven downwards, taking as much of the combined intrusion of fingers and cock as is physically possible, cy frees up one hand to massage at the more neglected breast, coaxing milk from the chafed nipple. it's spectacularly messy, but in the moment he couldn't think of anything he cared for less than that. does this place have in-house laundry? well, they can find out. īŧ
I'm going to marry you.
īŧ it's said in sombre affirmation, as he kisses a line up the curve of one breast to his throat, biting down hard there, fully intending to bruise, to mark him, to claim him in every possible way. murmured there, in the juncture of shoulder and neck — īŧ
We're going to make love every day for the rest of your life. Sometimes it'll be sweet, and gentle, and tender — and sometimes I'm going to fuck you while you sob and bleed and beg me to stop. I want to look into your eyes and tell you I love you as you come, and I want to pierce your skin a hundred times and flog you until your legs tremble, until you can't stand or think or breathe without me holding you up, or kissing air into your lungs. I want you in every way one soul can crave another. I want to fill every hole you have, tend every hurt, meet every need. I want to fuck your ass with only your tears to ease the pain. I want to kiss you as the sun rises. I want to spank you until you're too hoarse to count each blow, and suck your cock until you forget your own name.
īŧ cy hikes him up a bit by a lift of his hand and hips, the heel of his palm cradling his clit in a frictive pressure, and rubs his cheek against one heavy breast. he closes his teeth against the nipple and pulls back until gravity makes it a cruel stretch, leaving sasuke with only two choices: either surge in close against him or wrench away to bear the pain. either way — īŧ
It's not hard to imagine, is it? That you're pregnant, carrying our child.
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cw: needleplay
Date: 2024-08-27 01:53 am (UTC)I'm going to marry you.
īŧ it's said in sombre affirmation, as he kisses a line up the curve of one breast to his throat, biting down hard there, fully intending to bruise, to mark him, to claim him in every possible way. murmured there, in the juncture of shoulder and neck — īŧ
We're going to make love every day for the rest of your life. Sometimes it'll be sweet, and gentle, and tender — and sometimes I'm going to fuck you while you sob and bleed and beg me to stop. I want to look into your eyes and tell you I love you as you come, and I want to pierce your skin a hundred times and flog you until your legs tremble, until you can't stand or think or breathe without me holding you up, or kissing air into your lungs. I want you in every way one soul can crave another. I want to fill every hole you have, tend every hurt, meet every need. I want to fuck your ass with only your tears to ease the pain. I want to kiss you as the sun rises. I want to spank you until you're too hoarse to count each blow, and suck your cock until you forget your own name.
īŧ cy hikes him up a bit by a lift of his hand and hips, the heel of his palm cradling his clit in a frictive pressure, and rubs his cheek against one heavy breast. he closes his teeth against the nipple and pulls back until gravity makes it a cruel stretch, leaving sasuke with only two choices: either surge in close against him or wrench away to bear the pain. either way — īŧ
It's not hard to imagine, is it? That you're pregnant, carrying our child.