[ Anything should have done it by now, really. The roughness, Devon's muscles spasming around his dick while he comes on that tree, taking it as naturally as he would if they were lying down on one of the manor's many expensive beds. Dom smells the blood, smells it mixed with the things the stranger's skin has been scratching up against, bites down harder like he's the one enduring pain, and in the peak of frustration, lets out a scream before pulling out, back curved like his body is too heavy to be fully upright. He's too fucking sensitive and yet not enough, that's what. ]
Can you — can you touch me instead? Here?
[ Using his breath more than his voice, he stares up at Devon with the notion that this is a weird fucking ask written all over his face. Dom is pointing at the gnarly scar on the side of his torso, looking like a huge and inhuman bite itself, not too far from the erection at full mast and leaking precome. ]
no subject
Can you — can you touch me instead? Here?
[ Using his breath more than his voice, he stares up at Devon with the notion that this is a weird fucking ask written all over his face. Dom is pointing at the gnarly scar on the side of his torso, looking like a huge and inhuman bite itself, not too far from the erection at full mast and leaking precome. ]
But make it hurt, maybe? I don't know. Fuck.