[ On his own end, Sandalphon isn't feeling especially virtuous either, but his mind can't even begin to be bothered by it. Not when, oh, that's better— much better. It's a bit of an odd feeling still, and not quite enough, not yet, and even Sandalphon's fuzzy mind can't miss how Belial so very clearly and deliberately avoids his sweet spot— as if he knows where it is without needing to find it himself by hand, and is that simply from experience or because he already knows Sandalphon's body this well?— but the movements of his fingers themselves across such a sensitive part of his body, rough and swift, tender and cruel, filling him up and stretching him with just bit of this sweet, satisfying ache that's so much like what he felt from the other Belial before, just enough of a little pain to not overtake the .
If he doesn't beg verbally, this time, for Belial to keep going, to touch him where he's avoiding, to add another finger, to fill him up further, it's only because he can't find the words for it or muster the will to utter anything nearly so articulate. ] L-like that... keep going.... [ He squirms and shifts in place, the movements of his body, the way he feels it tightens around Belial's fingers as if to keep them from ever pulling out, the expression on his face, his trembling lip and shaky limbs seemingly trying to make up for it on their own, to express what his words cannot. ]
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If he doesn't beg verbally, this time, for Belial to keep going, to touch him where he's avoiding, to add another finger, to fill him up further, it's only because he can't find the words for it or muster the will to utter anything nearly so articulate. ] L-like that... keep going.... [ He squirms and shifts in place, the movements of his body, the way he feels it tightens around Belial's fingers as if to keep them from ever pulling out, the expression on his face, his trembling lip and shaky limbs seemingly trying to make up for it on their own, to express what his words cannot. ]