[ he shudders -- both at the sensation and the sound Lahabrea makes, and he doesn't resist the immediate urge to roll his hips back and then forward roughly again. this time he doesn't even tease with the shallow movements anymore, properly setting up a rough, punishing pace with the intent of hardly leaving Lahabrea room to breathe let alone speak. ]
[That's all he can grit out, because the rest of his mind is on--well. The way Absinthe is roughly fucking him and how incredibly amazing it feels to be ravaged like this. It hurts like hell and he is into it, arching and panting and making soft, pained, deeply turned on noises before he grabs one of Absinthe's hands and puts it back on his own neck. Because that's a bright idea]
there's that sharp, pleased grin back on his face as he takes the invitation, one hand settling on Lahabrea's side for leverage as he fucks him and the other settling around his own neck. he doesn't waste any time getting to work -- wrapping his fingers around his neck and squeezing hard, pressure against the bruises that were already there from before. ]
[Do not @ him while he's high on imps. Not that he's not always just... so much
He grins though, as Absinthe follows his prompt, because he wants this--way more than he should reasonably. Which does not matter in the moment when that need is being met; the desire to be absolutely wrecked that Absinthe is so very graciously fulfilling.
He sucks in a gasp when he can and then all he can do is grip Absinthe's hair and shoulders, arching in pain and over-stimulation. He'd gasp or make noise but all that escapes are needy, hungry, stifled noises. More felt against Absinthe's palm and fingers than actually very audible.]
[ Absinthe doesn't even need to be high on imps for this so he literally can't talk
he will definitely bring it up at some point in the future though. for now he's just enjoying the moment -- the sensation of Lahabrea tight and rough around him, clinging to him with every drag of his cock though there is somewhat less friction as he does move. he's curled tight over him at this point, moving just enough to be able to manage those deep thrusts into him but he wants to stay close too -- not just for the heat but also how many more sounds he can hear that way, even with Lahabrea's voiced muffle by his fingers. ]
[Probably at a very inappropriate time Lahabrea would guess, given Absinthe's timing with the Emet-Selch conversation.
It is nice having Absinthe close. He can claw at his back with the pleasure and pain, wrap his legs around Absinthe's thighs to rock into this deep, rough thrusts. It's getting easier but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, doesn't feel too dry and too tight even still, though the burn is taking back seat to the desire, especially when he can barely breathe. Can only wheeze breathlessly and moan with barely a sound, so only Absinthe pressed against him has even a hope of hearing how wanton that noise is.]
Absinthe isn't that much of a masochistic himself but there's an edge that clawing brings that has him gasping, along with the raw pleasure of fucking him this hard -- his thumb curls into his windpipe for a moment like he truly intends to crush it in his grasp. he honestly can't imagine himself lasting too long like this, even with the discomfort and the burn, being inside Lahabrea and having him so hopelessly turned on underneath him is so thrilling he's already chasing after his orgasm with hard, rough ruts into him, head dipping down to sink teeth into his shoulder even as he strangles him. ]
[Lahabrea is basically overwhelmed as it is. The bite and the pressure on his windpipe is all he needs to arch soundlessly up against Absinthe, coming hard. His mouth opens but no voice emerges, no cry or moan that's audible because he hasn't the breath for it. His vision, already swimming, goes rather white-- not exactly passing out with his orgasm but certainly 80% of the way to it. Ears roaring, lungs burning, throat feeling crushed and bruised, ass in no better shape.
And he's loving every second of it. Though he's a little beyond cogent right now.]
[ his grip tightens even further, almost impossibly so, when he feels Lahabrea's ass clench tight around him; he's shuddering open with a loud groan muffled into his flesh as he as he comes himself, sunk deep inside of him, wetness spilling hot against Lahabrea's insides.
he does, at least, then release his grip on his throat -- but he doesn't stop biting into him, lapping at what blood his blunt teeth manages to draw. ]
[Feeling Absinthe come in him has him whine, something that can be heard when his throat is finally released and he gasps, whole body shivering. He's not actually loosening around Absinthe's cock yet, too busy fighting for air, fingers digging into the man's back as he shudders in mixed pain and pleasure that's too over-stimulated as Absinthe keeps biting.]
[ he moans quietly into his skin - - he's over stimulated himself at this point, in the afterglow of his orgasm, hips shifting in short little movements as he rides that out then stills. he stops biting him but he's still licking hungrily at those little pinpricks of red. ]
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The pot ... calling the kettle black ... hm?
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[That's all he can grit out, because the rest of his mind is on--well. The way Absinthe is roughly fucking him and how incredibly amazing it feels to be ravaged like this. It hurts like hell and he is into it, arching and panting and making soft, pained, deeply turned on noises before he grabs one of Absinthe's hands and puts it back on his own neck. Because that's a bright idea]
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there's that sharp, pleased grin back on his face as he takes the invitation, one hand settling on Lahabrea's side for leverage as he fucks him and the other settling around his own neck. he doesn't waste any time getting to work -- wrapping his fingers around his neck and squeezing hard, pressure against the bruises that were already there from before. ]
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He grins though, as Absinthe follows his prompt, because he wants this--way more than he should reasonably. Which does not matter in the moment when that need is being met; the desire to be absolutely wrecked that Absinthe is so very graciously fulfilling.
He sucks in a gasp when he can and then all he can do is grip Absinthe's hair and shoulders, arching in pain and over-stimulation. He'd gasp or make noise but all that escapes are needy, hungry, stifled noises. More felt against Absinthe's palm and fingers than actually very audible.]
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he will definitely bring it up at some point in the future though. for now he's just enjoying the moment -- the sensation of Lahabrea tight and rough around him, clinging to him with every drag of his cock though there is somewhat less friction as he does move. he's curled tight over him at this point, moving just enough to be able to manage those deep thrusts into him but he wants to stay close too -- not just for the heat but also how many more sounds he can hear that way, even with Lahabrea's voiced muffle by his fingers. ]
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It is nice having Absinthe close. He can claw at his back with the pleasure and pain, wrap his legs around Absinthe's thighs to rock into this deep, rough thrusts. It's getting easier but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, doesn't feel too dry and too tight even still, though the burn is taking back seat to the desire, especially when he can barely breathe. Can only wheeze breathlessly and moan with barely a sound, so only Absinthe pressed against him has even a hope of hearing how wanton that noise is.]
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Absinthe isn't that much of a masochistic himself but there's an edge that clawing brings that has him gasping, along with the raw pleasure of fucking him this hard -- his thumb curls into his windpipe for a moment like he truly intends to crush it in his grasp. he honestly can't imagine himself lasting too long like this, even with the discomfort and the burn, being inside Lahabrea and having him so hopelessly turned on underneath him is so thrilling he's already chasing after his orgasm with hard, rough ruts into him, head dipping down to sink teeth into his shoulder even as he strangles him. ]
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And he's loving every second of it. Though he's a little beyond cogent right now.]
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he does, at least, then release his grip on his throat -- but he doesn't stop biting into him, lapping at what blood his blunt teeth manages to draw. ]
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If... you wanted a taste. You could have asked.
[His vice is basically wrecked, unrecognizable.]
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And you would have obliged me?
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