For an instant, Dylan surfaced from the haze of want brought on by Daniel, by him still trembling around him, by his dick responding in kind at Daniel's command. He wasn't sure where that brief moment of clarity had come from, the smell of him, the lingering taste of his blood in his mouth, how tight and wet and God he still was for him, but he had one, all the same. And the thought that came with it? The thought that came with it was that maybe they should stop.
It wasn't the feeding he was worried about, his or Daniel's own, as neither of them could really die. He couldn't drain Daniel dry any more than he could drive him to the point of death by exhaustion or suicide or whatever it was succubi were supposed to do to their victims. It wasn't even the bite of Daniel's claws that worried him, the feel of his own blood running down his back for an instant like drops of rain before his body took the initiative to heal. No, in this case, it was the idea that they might get caught in some sort of loop, the both of them getting off, the both of them turned on again, over and over, until -- what, exactly? How long would they be stuck like this? And more than that Daniel shouldn't have been able to have this kind of control over him, leading him around, very literally, by his dick. He was supposed to be the one in charge here. He --
And when that instant of sanity faded, when Daniel's eyes all but sparked, he decided he didn't care. If he was the only one that could satisfy Daniel until he released him of that command, he was more than happy to let him return the favor over and over and over again. He needed him. He needed what Daniel had fantasized at his pleasure earlier, him bouncing along on his cock, watching him drive up into him desperately, watching him come or -- whatever else Daniel had in mind.
With that thought, he whimpered, nodding furiously, and shifted, hands going to Daniel's hips to pull him along with him, tight and close, not wanting to lose the heat and warmth of his cunt around him as he rolled onto his back. When he'd gotten them settled again and without waiting for further prompting, he reached to skate his fingers lazily along the curve of one of Daniel's horns again. Whatever was coming, whatever he had in mind for him, for them, he wanted him to feel it, too, be ready for it, want it as much as he wanted Daniel. He figured touching those horns could only help wind him up again, especially when he'd taken care to make them as sensitive as his clit, the head of his cock, whatever.
no subject
It wasn't the feeding he was worried about, his or Daniel's own, as neither of them could really die. He couldn't drain Daniel dry any more than he could drive him to the point of death by exhaustion or suicide or whatever it was succubi were supposed to do to their victims. It wasn't even the bite of Daniel's claws that worried him, the feel of his own blood running down his back for an instant like drops of rain before his body took the initiative to heal. No, in this case, it was the idea that they might get caught in some sort of loop, the both of them getting off, the both of them turned on again, over and over, until -- what, exactly? How long would they be stuck like this? And more than that Daniel shouldn't have been able to have this kind of control over him, leading him around, very literally, by his dick. He was supposed to be the one in charge here. He --
And when that instant of sanity faded, when Daniel's eyes all but sparked, he decided he didn't care. If he was the only one that could satisfy Daniel until he released him of that command, he was more than happy to let him return the favor over and over and over again. He needed him. He needed what Daniel had fantasized at his pleasure earlier, him bouncing along on his cock, watching him drive up into him desperately, watching him come or -- whatever else Daniel had in mind.
With that thought, he whimpered, nodding furiously, and shifted, hands going to Daniel's hips to pull him along with him, tight and close, not wanting to lose the heat and warmth of his cunt around him as he rolled onto his back. When he'd gotten them settled again and without waiting for further prompting, he reached to skate his fingers lazily along the curve of one of Daniel's horns again. Whatever was coming, whatever he had in mind for him, for them, he wanted him to feel it, too, be ready for it, want it as much as he wanted Daniel. He figured touching those horns could only help wind him up again, especially when he'd taken care to make them as sensitive as his clit, the head of his cock, whatever.
"Whatever you want," he murmured belatedly.