( he's speaking reflexively, knowing what it is sasuke wants, the shift of his hips as he's pressed down into the mattress. cy laves at the smear of blood against the back of sasuke's neck and then braces a hand against sasuke's side to peel himself back, cock slipping wetly free of his body, come leaving a slick glaze against the cleft of his ass.
his breath comes in a shuddering heave as he uses the grip against sasuke's throat to flip him to his back, pinning him roughly against the bed in a painful splay of bound limbs. cy flattens him with the slip of one broad palm down against his sternum as he hitches himself lower, ducks in between his thighs and shoulders them apart in a way that will make the bindings at his ankle chafe and leans in to swallow sasuke's cock to the root, not caring that the act will shatter the immediate immersion — the pretended persona has no especial need to care about sasuke's pleasure and cy would perhaps be tempted to leave him wanting if he loved him less.
but he doesn't. he can't.
he's awkwardly spilled against sasuke's body, not able to move the way he otherwise might with the way he's restrained, but while his right hand stays pinning him down, the other one slips down to shove several fingers roughly back into the seat of his ass, slick with his own seed as he pushes into him.
whether sasuke comes immediately or not is irrelevant to him. he just wants to taste him, the marriage of the blood from having bitten him mingling with the bitter taste of pre-come heavy and heady on his tongue. )
no subject
( he's speaking reflexively, knowing what it is sasuke wants, the shift of his hips as he's pressed down into the mattress. cy laves at the smear of blood against the back of sasuke's neck and then braces a hand against sasuke's side to peel himself back, cock slipping wetly free of his body, come leaving a slick glaze against the cleft of his ass.
his breath comes in a shuddering heave as he uses the grip against sasuke's throat to flip him to his back, pinning him roughly against the bed in a painful splay of bound limbs. cy flattens him with the slip of one broad palm down against his sternum as he hitches himself lower, ducks in between his thighs and shoulders them apart in a way that will make the bindings at his ankle chafe and leans in to swallow sasuke's cock to the root, not caring that the act will shatter the immediate immersion — the pretended persona has no especial need to care about sasuke's pleasure and cy would perhaps be tempted to leave him wanting if he loved him less.
but he doesn't. he can't.
he's awkwardly spilled against sasuke's body, not able to move the way he otherwise might with the way he's restrained, but while his right hand stays pinning him down, the other one slips down to shove several fingers roughly back into the seat of his ass, slick with his own seed as he pushes into him.
whether sasuke comes immediately or not is irrelevant to him. he just wants to taste him, the marriage of the blood from having bitten him mingling with the bitter taste of pre-come heavy and heady on his tongue. )