Look at you, [ He purrs, lips damp from his own tongue as he stares down at Abby's face. The sharp lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, the sweep of mussed hair over his forehead.
He glances over his shoulder at the floor where glass shivers in the fibers of his rug, dancing from the vibrations of Abby's growl. The rest of his interior design is going to be ruined by Abby's single snarl.
It does something to him he doesn't anticipate; it makes his muscles tense and he feels deliciously like prey that has just heard the predator behind it. His head swims and he feels drunk on it, skin warm, leaning slightly forward, takes a sharp breath in through his nose, lets his lungs fill. He can feel him, Abby's just there and it isn't enough, and he's starting to think maybe it'll never be enough. He's like an addict, seeking his next hit, hungry for the demon underneath him.
Romance leans down, hands sliding from chest to shoulders to the bed, planting on either side of his head. Lips brush Abbyβs cheek as he exhales the sigh he's drank in, voice dropping into something smokey velvet, right in his ear. ]
Abby, please. [ Romance is all demon, soft violet with patterns scrawling over his skin like spilled ink. His hair is a mess, in his face, tickling Abby's cheeks. His grip flexes; he's being teased, and it's frustrating enough he nips Abby's ear, a sharp warning. He's pretty, but he bites. He's used to getting what he wants in whatever form that may be, and Abby's driving him crazy.
His nails prick at the sheets, tearing lines in the material on either side of Abby's body. His shit is shredded anyway, at this point he's going to just lean into it. It's tender carnality at its finest; torn silk, warm demon thighs, predatory growls, and obliterated self-control. Romance is milliseconds from simply dropping himself down onto Abby's dick and doing it himself. ]
no subject
He glances over his shoulder at the floor where glass shivers in the fibers of his rug, dancing from the vibrations of Abby's growl. The rest of his interior design is going to be ruined by Abby's single snarl.
It does something to him he doesn't anticipate; it makes his muscles tense and he feels deliciously like prey that has just heard the predator behind it. His head swims and he feels drunk on it, skin warm, leaning slightly forward, takes a sharp breath in through his nose, lets his lungs fill. He can feel him, Abby's just there and it isn't enough, and he's starting to think maybe it'll never be enough. He's like an addict, seeking his next hit, hungry for the demon underneath him.
Romance leans down, hands sliding from chest to shoulders to the bed, planting on either side of his head. Lips brush Abbyβs cheek as he exhales the sigh he's drank in, voice dropping into something smokey velvet, right in his ear. ]
Abby, please. [ Romance is all demon, soft violet with patterns scrawling over his skin like spilled ink. His hair is a mess, in his face, tickling Abby's cheeks. His grip flexes; he's being teased, and it's frustrating enough he nips Abby's ear, a sharp warning. He's pretty, but he bites. He's used to getting what he wants in whatever form that may be, and Abby's driving him crazy.
His nails prick at the sheets, tearing lines in the material on either side of Abby's body. His shit is shredded anyway, at this point he's going to just lean into it. It's tender carnality at its finest; torn silk, warm demon thighs, predatory growls, and obliterated self-control. Romance is milliseconds from simply dropping himself down onto Abby's dick and doing it himself. ]