NOCT OVERFLOW

[swordhardy]

OVERFLOW & EVENTS

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[swordhardy]

[ Six's mouth makes focusing difficult. Though Rokurou's lips and teeth work over skin, the hitches of breath and the shivers of pleasure continue to rack. Beat beat beat—the strokes from the knife Six used to carve his character into his flesh throbs in tandem, blended ache going bone deep and chafing against the tenor of oversensitivity.

Peeling away from that brilliant fresh mark with a wet pop, Rokurou succumbs, head falling back while he rolls his hips forward. Broken shards of rasp-touched voice fall—needling at first, but quickly weighting with harder, deeper drag. ]

Hah, hn, that's .... fuh, Six—... muh, more...

[ Desperation whitens normally ruddy knuckles as he grasps onto the other man, arms a lock as he hurriedly rocks. It hurts, it feels good, it hurts, it feels good, it hurts, it feels good. One and the same, because there's no line between them anymore. For a Yaksha, it was already thin to begin with. ]

I want, mn—more.

[ Blindly, he grasps for Six's wrist, greedily trying to push the erune's hand down the front of his damp trousers. ]

[wray]

[ rokurou isn't the only one who is struggling to keep focus, but six tries his best to power through everything the daemon does. every shiver, every soft sigh — they're all inconsequential once rokurou starts begging him for more. he allows the other man to guide where his hand rests, and once his fingers make contact, he starts palming hard.

a few strokes, careful ministrations, but that only lasts for a short while before he slips under the daemon's trousers. skin on skin feels so much better since he can feel just how heated rokurou is now, makes it so much easier to slick his fingers with cum to help with his strokes. ]

Tell me— tell me what you want and I'll give you everything.

[ low and husky, whispered against tanned skin.

he picks up the pace while he continues to mark rokurou up in places that will be difficult to hide later on. ]