Not Sure How Many People Know This But The Creator Of YYH Is The Creator Of HxH. In Order To Create The

Jujutsu Kaisen 0: Movie → Nanami Kento, Grade 1 Jujutsu sorcerer

Gorgeous.

I just love this couple <3

this was for a contest and the theme was to choose a artwork (painting/sculpture) of romance and recreate it.. and I chose part of the statue “Polyphemus Surprising Acis and Galatea” :3 haha although the story behind the sculpture is not the happiest I still like and think it was a good option for the pose XD

Only Good Girls Get to Come

Night had already set in by the time you glided your car into your driveway. As you shifted into park and watched your garage door close in your rearview mirror, you sighed heavily. The day had been long. Full of meetings that could have been emails and spreadsheets that should have been meetings. Typical.

You grabbed your bag, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut with a bit too much force. It felt good. You threw your heels off. Letting them land wherever they felt like. You were too tired to care. 

Opening the door to your home, you groaned when you saw the stairs. Somehow, on the days you were the most annoyed, you always seemed to forget there were stairs. It was only one flight though. Then, you could fall onto the couch.

As you slowly ascended the stairs, each step heavier than the last, you heard something. It sounded like a bag rustling. Then, glass clinking. 

You froze.  

Then, you slowly removed the pepper spray from your bag. Adjusting it just right in your hand as you continued to move up the steps. There was a light coming from your kitchen. Was a burglar eating your food?

Your shoulders relaxed when you heard a familiar, British accented voice say your name, followed by, “You got any dijon?”

Dropping the pepper spray back into your bag, you groaned as you cleared the last few steps and into the living room of your home. You could see Captain John Price rummaging through your fridge, squatted down low, looking through condiments. 

“Yeah, at the bottom. To the left.” You said as you tossed your bag on the floor next to the couch.

He hummed in acknowledgement when he found the mustard, and stood up. He gently closed the fridge and made his way to the counter while you walked over to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, taking a seat. Watching him with an unamused look. 

“What the hell are you doing here, John?” You asked as you slumped down on the cool granite.

He scoffed as he took a piece of bread off the top of an already made sandwich, “I told you, I’m crashin’ here this weekend. I sent you a text.”

You thought back to your day as he grabbed a knife and spread out the condiment on the soft bread. You remembered now. He had messaged you that morning saying he would be in town. This wasn’t an unusual event. You two had known each other for several years. He had a key. Something you gave him when he complained about the cost of hotels. Your guest room was hardly ever used, so why not lend it out to him a few times a year when he needed it.

You sighed and rubbed your hand down face, “Oh sorry, I forgot. Long day.”

He finished assembling his sandwich, put the mustard back, and was rinsing off the knife when he asked, “Ain’t that merger still, is it?”

You nodded as you placed your chin in your hand, “Yep. Should be finalized by next week.”

He grabbed the sandwich, now cut in half, and around a mouth full asked, “Want some?”

You stared at the food and nodded silently. He handed one half over to you and you both ate in a comfortable silence. He finished his in a few large bites while you were still half way through yours. Too tired to devour it.

“You look like you need a coma.” John said with a low chuckle.

Between bites, and without much thought, you said, “I need to get laid.”

John laughed, “Yeah? Is that so?”

You groaned, “Sorry, it’s been a long week. Fuck, it’s been a long month. A long year.” You finished the last bite of your sandwich and added, “It’s not your problem. Forget I said anything.”

“I can make it my problem.” he said in a low voice, with something more dancing underneath it.  

You gazed over at him, raising your brow as you took in his mischievous smile. For the first time all day, a smile broke out on your lips. Growing bigger by the second.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, your tone playful. Your eyes finally roamed his body. He had showered already, his hair still damp and combed out of his face. His beard wasn't trimmed, but it was clean. He wore a plain white shirt that hugged his shoulders in the most tantalizing way. The counter blocked most of the view, but a pair of grey sweatpants clung to his hips. 

Your eyes met his again and his smile turned devious, “Like what ya see?”

An even larger smile spread across your lips as a laugh came out, loud and full. You tried to gain your composure as John added, his tone playful, “Oh, is my offer of fuckin’ you senseless, funny to you?”

You leaned back on the stool and crossed your arms, “Maybe. I don’t really see you as the ‘fucking women senseless type’, old man.” 

He didn’t move right away. Only watched you, arms crossed, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was deciding how much trouble you deserved. Then, he stepped around the counter, slow and deliberate. His bare feet were quiet against the tile, but somehow he made the whole room feel smaller.

“That so?” he asked, voice low and gravelly. “You think I’m all talk?”

You opened your mouth, to keep teasing and to challenge him again. Except then, he was in front of you, close enough to steal the breath from your lungs. One hand found the back of your stool, the other tilted your chin up until you had no choice but to meet that dark, glinting gaze.

“S’funny,” he murmured, mouth brushing yours, “because you’re about to be beggin’ that same old man not to stop.”

You didn’t get the chance to answer. His lips found yours in a kiss that started slow, and deepened fast. His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you in tighter, controlling the angle like he needed you to feel how serious he was.

By the time he pulled back, you were breathless. He looked entirely unbothered, smirking, relaxed, cocky in a way that had your thighs clenching.

“Let’s see if you’re still laughin’,” he said, voice like a promise, “when I’ve got you cryin’ on my cock.”

Your grin widened, but your breath hitched just a little. He saw it, and that smug, knowing look spread across his face like fire catching dry brush. He leaned in and said, low and rough, “You gonna sit there all night actin’ brave, or are you gonna stand up and let me ruin that attitude?”

You cocked your head, lips twitching. “Might need some convincing.”

That was the last straw.

Without a word, he gripped your thighs and pulled fast enough to catch you off guard. His grip was firm enough to draw a sharp yelp from your lips. You barely had time to blink before he had you off the stool and up and over his shoulder. One arm over your hips and holding you like it was nothing.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, starting down the hallway as you pressed your hands into his back and laughed, “I offered to be nice about this.”

“Mmmm, you sound a little desperate, old man.”

He gave your ass a solid smack in response, hard enough to sting and soft enough to be playful.

“Keep runnin’ that mouth, sweetheart. You’re only makin’ it worse for yourself.”

You could feel the heat building in him with every step, the way his grip on you tightened slightly as he carried you toward your bedroom. The air shifted from playful tension to something hotter, heavier.

When he kicked the door shut behind him, it was like a switch flipped. He dropped you onto the bed. Not rough, but with enough force to bounce, enough to show he wasn’t playing anymore.

“Strip,” he said, pulling his shirt off over his head. “And lose the attitude while you’re at it.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, still lying back on the bed. “You always give orders like that, Captain, or am I just special?”

Price dropped the shirt to the floor and stepped closer, towering over the edge of the bed with a look that landed somewhere between amused and done with your shit.

“You’re bloody special, alright,” he said dryly. “Special kind of difficult.”

Your grin widened.

He leaned in, one knee hitting the mattress as his hand firmly closed around your ankle. He dragged you toward the edge of the bed inch by inch, slow enough to make your heart pound. You bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the devious grin on your face, but it was a useless endeavor. 

“I like a challenge,” he murmured, voice lower now, intimate. “Especially when they moan real sweet once I’ve shut ’em up.”

You started to open your mouth, some smart remark half-formed on your tongue, but he was already moving. He hooked his fingers into your waistband, yanking your bottoms down and off with practiced ease.

“Still got that attitude?” he asked, his voice soft now, too soft.

You nodded slowly, defiantly.

He just smiled.

“Good,” he said, spreading your legs and settling between them like he had all the time in the world. “Makes it more fun when I fuck it out of you.”

You went to snap something back, but the words fizzled the second his calloused hands slid up your thighs. One palm anchored your hip while the other pushed your shirt up inch by inch, baring your stomach to the cool air.

“Arms up,” he said simply.

His tone was calm, commanding, and it sent a surge of electricity straight through you. You hesitated just long enough for him to raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

You obeyed, slowly, lifting your arms as he peeled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. The bra remained, a delicate, thin veil of black lace. The look in his eyes darkened when it was all that remained.

“Mm,” he hummed, fingers sliding under the straps, dragging them down your arms one at a time. “Almost a shame to take this off.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing the swell of your breast through the lace. Then, he reached behind you with one practiced flick of the wrist.

Click.

The clasp gave instantly, no fumbling, just ease. Control.

“There we go,” he muttered, dragging the straps the rest of the way down. He tossed it aside without looking, too focused on the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way you shifted under the weight of it.

“Don’t even think about runnin’ that mouth,” he muttered, hooking his fingers into your underwear.

You opened your mouth, another bratty quip forming, but then the fabric was gone. Dragged down your legs and tossed behind him. And then his hands were on your thighs again, firmer this time, pushing your knees apart like it was routine.

His voice was low and thick with something darker now. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

He dragged two fingers through your folds, slowly, deliberately, and barely dipping in. He didn’t look down or let his gaze leave yours. Didn’t need to.

“Wet already?” he murmured, thumb brushing against your clit just enough to tease. Now, he took a moment to look upon your dripping cunt and added, “And you’re still pretending you don’t need me.”

You squirmed, biting your lip. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, old man.”

His gaze snapped up. Steady. Lethal. Like a wolf who’d just decided how he was going to play with his food. His hand stilled, fingers just barely inside you.

“Right,” he said, as if making a decision.

Then, he pushed in. Two thick fingers, quick and deep, curling just enough to make your back arch. He set a pace immediately: firm, unrelenting, no mercy.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” he grunted, watching your face, “but look at you now. Drippin’ all over my fuckin’ hand.”

Your breath hitched, a choked moan slipping past your lips. You reached for his wrist without thinking, fingers digging into his forearm like that might slow him down.

He didn’t slow. He leaned in, lips at your ear.

“Beg for it,” he whispered. “Beg me to make you come.”

You clenched around his fingers involuntarily, breath catching. He felt it. Of course he did. He bent down lower, his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Go on, sweetheart. You were so loud a minute ago.”

You swallowed hard. Bit your lip and shook your head.

“No?” he asked, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Shame.”

And then his fingers slowed, still inside you, still curled just right, but his pace dropped to a lazy rhythm. His thumb circling your clit with barely enough pressure to keep you teetering. It was maddening. Close, but not enough. 

“You can wait, then,” he said coolly, like it was a casual choice. “I’ve got all night.”

You whimpered, hips twitching. He didn’t move faster. Didn’t budge. His free hand came up and gripped your chin, tilting your face toward him until your eyes met his.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You nodded quickly.

“Then ask me.”

“Please,” you breathed. “Fuck, please, John…”

“Please what?”

“Please make me come. I need it. Fuck, I need you.”

That was the switch.

His smile returned with a dark satisfaction. The hand between your legs snapped back to work. Fast. Precise. His fingers plunged into you, curling up, while his other hand went to your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed firm, relentless circles against it. You cried out, the heat building in a dizzying rush, all control ripped away like paper in a storm.

“That’s it, good girl,” he growled. “Just like that. Let me hear you.”

You clutched at the sheets, back arching, the orgasm tearing through you so hard you saw stars. And he didn’t stop, not right away. He worked you through it, dragging every last tremble out of your body, until you were gasping and twitching, his name somewhere between a sob and a moan on your lips.

To be continued...

BNHA Parallels

Present Mic gave the name Eraserhead. Aizawa became Eraserhead.

Mirio said that Tamaki would outshine the sun. Tamaki became Suneater.

Bakugou called Midoriya a Deku. Midoriya became Deku.

I’m screaming!!

This ship sailed off YEARS ago! My first OTP, drawn so beautifully 😭

(x)

Yes Hebaron 👏

I want that man so bad!

The Vulgar Deal

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, creampie, use of the term “good girl”

18+ - Minors Do Not Interact

This is pretty vanilla. If I’m being honest. I wrote this because Hebaron Nitra is not represented enough in fan fictions.

Word Count: 3k

Pairings: Hebaron Nitra x Fem!Reader

Summary: As the Governess of Maxi & Riftan’s child, it is your duty to assure the young boy is well educated. However, Hebaron has taught the young master some shrewd words. After reprimanding him, you and Hebaron strike up a deal.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Much like a force of nature, you marched down the main hall of the castle. Your brisk stride and furrowed brow announcing your frustration to everyone in full view. Down the long expanse of the hall, you saw him. Standing amongst a small group of fellow knights was Hebaron Nitra.

Without breaking your stride, you pointed at the crowd ahead and bellowed, “Sir Nitra, I must have a word with you. At. Once.” Putting an extra emphasis on the last two words.

His back was to you, his broad shoulders towering over the other men that surrounded him, and he turned slightly to peer at you. Then, he smiled and called out your first name as though you two had been long time friends. In reality, you had spoken to the man sparingly during the three months of your employment as the Governess at Castle Calypse. All of which were to reprimand him in some way.

He waved the men at his side off and turned his attention entirely to you. That impish smile still plastered on his face.

Your heeled, polished leather boots stopped mere inches away from his dirty and worn boots. Based on the slight sheen to his brow, he had most likely just finished sparing with some of the other knights. His cheeks flushed with a slight shade of pink.

With hands on your hips, a slight upward tilt of your chin, and puffing out of your chest, you stated, “I have a bone to pick with you, Sir Nitra.”

With his smile still present, he raised both his brows and said, “Oh, is that so? Please do enlighten me.” Then, with a much too obvious show of swagger, looped his thumbs into his belt.

Once again, your index finger came up. Pointed towards his face. Your eyes narrowed as the malice dripped from your every word, “You have been teaching the young master nasty and vulgar words. How dare you speak so…flippantly around him. He is a young and impressionable boy.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared daggers into Hebaron’s own, somehow joyful, gaze.

He stroked his beard with a thumb and index finger. Then, for a brief moment, gazed up at the ceiling, as though he were trying to recall a memory or event. He snapped his fingers in realization. “Haha, yes! I recall it now. It was just the other day. Her Grace had brought the young lad out for a walk about the grounds. I was training some of the new recruits at the time.” He grimaced at the thought and continued, “Damn idiots were useless. I do remember saying a few…colorful words at them.”

You gaped. The man acted as though this explanation was more than reasonable enough to justify his crass behavior in front of the Duchess and young master. Your hands tightened into fists at your sides. You lowered your head briefly, took a deep breath, and shot your gaze back up like a slingshot launching a rock at a giant. “How dare you speak in such a way in front of Her Grace and the young master!” Your voice much louder than you had intended it to be, “That is in no way the proper manner in which to speak in front of them.”

Your jaw was set tight as you gazed up at the man.

Yet his face still had that devilish expression on it. As if, there were some sort of inside joke you weren’t aware of.

Hebaron shrugged.

Your cheeks, which were already flushed, felt enflamed at the rage bubbling within. Your eyes widened and you drew in another sharp breath, but before you could speak Hebaron beat you to it.

“Look, it’s not a big deal.” He put his hands up, in a gesture familiar to a gamekeeper trying to keep back a wild animal. He continued, “Her Grace has heard far worse than that on expeditions and the lad will hear more than just me using…vulgar words.”

Your mouth dropped at this. Her grace was such a sweet and refined woman that you could not fathom her being on an expedition surrounded by burly and crass men saying lewd things to her. Your mouth snapped shut and your lips pursed. Once again, you let out a sharp breath. Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you found yourself at a loss for words.

So, you settled to staring intensely, your eyes filled with a simmering hatred.

Hebaron smiled broadly, “It’s understandable that you’re unaware of how things are around here. You’re still new, but I can assure you that the lad will continue to hear words like-”

“Stop!” You said curtly, throwing a hand up in an attempt to thwart him from continuing that statement. With an exhausted sigh, you stated, “I understand. However, I ask that you refrain from speaking that way in front of the young master.” You paused and steadied yourself for your next words, “Please.”

A lascivious smirk crept into his expression, “Has anyone ever told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?”

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your eyes widened. You were unsure what to do with your hands anymore. Or what to say in response.

Hebaron leaned down so that his lips brushed ever so slightly against your ear. His hot breath washing over you as he whispered, “I would love to see what sort of expression you would make with my dick filling you up.”

Another sharp inhale escaped your lips as you placed a hand on Hebaron's chest. It felt dense under his tunic, his muscles flexing beneath your touch. In a breathy whisper, “This is…hardly appropriate, Sir Nitra.”

Hebaron pulled away enough to meet your gaze. His green eyes bore into yours. You felt your knees threaten to give way.

“Perhaps, I pay a visit to your bedchambers this evening and see for myself what sort of…expressions that face can make.” Hebaron said.

Your brow furrowed into a tight knit. Then, you spun around on your heels and marched away back down the main hall.

Despite not being able to see him, you could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “That wasn’t a nooo.”

That evening, you sat in front of your vanity. Brush in hand. Yet you hadn’t bothered to tame your hair because your mind was still reeling over the things Hebaron had said. You couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Now you were in your chemise, the one made of silk and lace, thinking about a man who was many years your senior.

You bite your lip.

He was still a handsome man. Despite his age, brutish nature, and vulgar tongue.

Good god, his tongue.

You imagined his dragging across your breasts. Your stomach. Your…

A firm knock at the door startled you from your lewd daydream. Your gaze shot to the door. Your heartbeat quickened as you stood up on shaky legs, tossing the brush aside. With careful strides you managed to push yourself towards the door.

You grabbed the handle. Your breath hitched in your throat. Deep breath in and out.

Then, you cracked the door open a few inches.

“Good evening.” Said the deep baritone of Hebaron’s voice.

In his hands you could see a bottle of wine and two glasses. He waved them at you.

You opened the door fully and stepped back to allow him in. He strolled over to the table and chairs that you normally used to eat at. Then, he sat down the bottle and glasses and turned to face you. His mouth dropped and he let out a strangled moan.

“Sit.” You said firmly.

Without hesitation, and without taking his eyes off you, he sat in one of the chairs.

You closed the door and locked it. The firm click sent a chill through you.

Turning to face Hebaron you were amused by his obvious staring. His mouth slightly open. He watched, rapt and in awe, as your hands went to the delicate buttons of your nightgown. One by one you began to undo them. As you worked your way down, the two sides fell apart, revealing a slice of flesh. Dipping from your neck to the valley between your breasts, to your navel. As you let the garment drop to the floor you heard Hebaron let out a shaky breath.

“I have a confession to make.” You said softly.

“Lord, let it be a long one.”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even dislike you. I do, however, detest your crass manner of speaking. It’s rude and undignified. The young master should be raised in a distinguished way so that he may become the best man he can. For Anatol’s sake. Do you agree?”

Hebaron nodded vigorously, “Of course.”

“So…I will allow you into my bed tonight. Under the circumstances that you no longer speak using such filthy words. Especially, in front of the young master.” You stepped free of your pooled chemise and slowly made your way over to Hebaron, “You will also make sure that no one else speaks that way in front of him.”

You stopped a few feet away, just outside his reach.

“Do we have an understanding?” You asked curtly.

Hebaron drew in a deep breath as his eyes searched your body, then his gaze met yours. He nodded, “We do, but I have one more condition to add.”

“Go on.”

“I will stop my…crass manner of speaking and refrain from cursing and using…vulgar words, but I am free to say all of them and more tonight. And every time you and I…are together, like this.”

You pursed your lips, “Who said this would be more than just one night?”

He smiled devilishly, his gaze devouring you, “By the end of this, you’ll be begging for my dick every night.”

“I doubt that, but we have deal.”

Despite your belief that he was out of reach, Hebaron leaned forward and pulled you towards him. You nearly fell into his arms. He steadied you by placing a strong hand on your waist. His thumb gently stroking your skin.

Heat sparked and crackled between you both.

He nuzzled his forehead against your collarbone and slowly began lining your skin with soft kisses. Working his way up your neck. Peppering more kisses along your jawline. Until his lips found yours. His kiss was soft at first, then grew rougher as his hands roamed your body.

The wet heat that was building between your legs, was threatening to destroy you. Your hands went to his shirt, and you started to unbutton it. He pulled away long enough to rip the shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. Then, his lips crashed onto yours again. One hand found your breast and with his calloused fingers, he began twisting and toying with your nipple. His other hand grasped your ass.

A moan escaped your lips.

You could feel the smile on his lips as he continued to kiss you. But then, he pulled his lips away. His gaze firmly locked on yours as he stared at your lewd expression. His eyes were heavy with lust as he said, “Oh, that’s such a naughty look you have.”

Your breathing was heavy, but you furrowed your brow and frowned. Before a single word could be said, Hebaron moved his hand from your rear, brought it forward and slid it behind your legs. Your mouth gaped as one of his large fingers teased your slick entrance.

“Good. Your pussy’s nice and wet already.”

You wanted to say something but instead you braced your hands on his shoulders as he slowly dug a finger into your soaking wet core. A mix between a squeak and moan escaped your mouth. Your eyes felt heavier which each stroke of his finger.

“That’s a good girl.” Hebaron’s own voice sounded strained as he kept an even pace, “You’re making that lewd expression again. I wanna see what it looks like when I make you come all over my hand.”

He brought his mouth to one breast and his tongue worked circles around your already hard nipple. His teeth grazed and nibbled at it while his other hand worked your other harden peak. All the while, the finger that was deep inside you moved in a faster rhythm.

Your knees began to waver, threatening to buckle under the immense wave of warmth spreading out from your core. Hebaron removed his hand from your breast and wrapped it around your waist. In order to chase the high, you began to move your hips into his palm.

More moans escaped your lips, growing louder as your breath became heavier.

Hebaron pulled himself away from your breast and watched as you reached your peaked. Your nails dug into his flesh and your muscles tightened around his finger. Your eyes never broke away from his dark and lusting gaze.

He pulled his finger from you and the sheen of your orgasm dripped down his hand. He smiled, took the finger into his mouth and sucked every bit off.

You were too caught up in your high to even care about how crude it was.

Once he cleaned his finger, he stared at you with what could only be described as carnal desire. With a swiftness he gathered you up in his arms and carried you over to the bed.

At this moment, you felt so small his arms. He lowered you to the bed and stood before you like a godly statue. From this vantage point you were able to see every muscle as it flexed and moved. His skin was smooth and glistening. He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, allowing them to pool on the floor. Revealing his cock.

Lightening coursed through your body as you took in his. You sat up on the edge of the bed and reached out for him. Your fingers curled around his rigid shaft. He was thick and hard, the circle formed by your thumb and middle finger didn’t quite meet. You dragged your hand from the root of his cock, sliding his supple skin over the iron column beneath. He thrusted into your hand.

Your mind grew fuzzy.

He jerked free of your grip and in a swift motion had himself positioned between your legs. You stared up at him, wanting. Needing. His hand glided up your throat and his thumb rested on your lips. Stroking them as he said, “You’re making such a filthy face right now.”

His thumb parted your lips, and you lightly sucked it. Nibbling it.

“Tell me what you want.” Hebaron asked breathlessly.

“I want you.”

He smiled as he pressed the length of his cock to your dripping pussy, rubbing it against your clit, inciting a moan from you.

“Tell me. What. You. Want.”

You bucked your hips, begging for him to push himself inside you.

Hebaron grabbed your hips and forced you to stop. You whimpered in protest.

“Tell me. I won't ask again.”

“I want your cock.” You said in a breathy whisper.

Hebaron bite his lip and started moving against you once more. His movements slow. You ached for him. Trying to move your hips, but his hands kept a firm grip. His shaft rubbed perfectly against your clit. You become wetter with each stroke. Soaking him.

“Please…” Your breath hitched as you cried out, “Please fuck me, Hebaron.”

He stopped.

You could feel him tense and twitch between your legs.

With a groan he growled out, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He lifted you by your hips and slid into you, filling you with one blissful inch after another. You gripped his forearms. Gasping for air. Once he was completely buried to the hilt, he began to move in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Do you feel that?” His thrusts gained pace. “That’s what you do to me. How hard you make me. I’ve been wanting this. Every time you glared at me, chastised me, given me that glare, I have wanted to bend you over and teach you a lesson.”

He pulled your hips higher, forcing your back into an arch.

“Sometimes,” He panted, “even in the middle of the day, I have to lock myself away and stroke my own cock, spilling myself into a rag like a schoolboy. It’s still not enough. It’s never enough.”

There was a furious edge to his words and a brutish quality to his rhythm. As if he wanted you to be sorry for driving him mad with lust. No such thing would happen. His growled confessions were the best thing you’d ever heard.

All the while, he continued his forceful thrusts. It was animalistic and uncivilized, and you were wild with arousal. Your body quivered and tensed as the most devastating orgasm of your life washed over you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t hide your expression as you came in racking, tearful sobs.

He did not stop.

He bent down over you, pressing his forehead against yours. A thrill shot through you as he called out your name. A ragged groan signaled his climax. His seed spilling into you like a warm rain. His cock throbbing softly even in the stillness and quiet and labored breath.

After several moments, he kissed the top of your head. His arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you close. “I hope your not too scandalized.”

You smiled, “I’m scandalized the perfect amount, but I think my thighs are now jelly.”

He chuckled into your neck and collapsed by your side in a tangle of sweaty limbs.

“Well, that was a delicious first course.” Hebaron whispered into your shoulder before kissing it.

“First course? Out of how many?” You asked in a shrill squeak.

“Depends on how hungry I am.” He sat up on one elbow and gazed down at you, “And right now, I’m still starving.”

cr:chaiinsawmen