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“And next time, when you beg me to fuck you, you better do it without the suicidal thoughts. Because I will fuck you within an inch of your life, but I’ll always drag you back. You can’t escape me. Not even death’s cold clutches will rip you from my hold.” He tightens his grip around my throat and my hips rock with the motion of my hand, rutting against his cock as ferociously as I can, crazed because of his words and insane because of his body. “You made a deal with a devil, hero, and now you live in my hell.”
“I want you,” he repeats. “Don’t. Stop wanting me.” “I can’t.” He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. I’m going to kill him with my want, and he has no idea how dangerous my love can be. My love is warped. It doesn’t feel the same as it does to others. It’s alarming and scary and dangerous. It’s a complete fall into obsession and the obliteration of everything else. If Remiel becomes the focus of my love, it will annihilate him. Wipe him out. Strip him bare and turn him into a husk of his former self. He’ll die.
Krypt doesn’t really know how to suck a dick, but neither do I, so it doesn’t matter. I’ll keep it to myself, but I love that he has an insecurity about sex. He’s more inexperienced than I am and doesn’t like to draw attention to that, but I love it. Because I’m just as possessive as he is.
