[ What a wonderful, wonderful thought— what a collar around his neck would feel like, how it would be to go about his day with the keen awareness of such a sensation, with Belial's ownership of him of him on blatant display and for everyone to see and know. To submit his body and mind to Belial completely— and in a way, hasn't he already?— and to be so totally taken care of, to be spoiled and indulged and freed completely of all difficulty in return. Belial's words paint such a heavenly picture, and he nearly aches with longing for the life he describes.
Before Sandalphon can articulate an answer or anything to say at all, how to express both his joy at the mental image and his plea to make it a reality, he notices Belial preparing himself, and finally Belial's putting his hands on him— powerful ands gripping him and digging into his delicate skin with the kind of roughness that hurts in the best way, with that sweet, loving cruelty interposed with indulgence that has characterized the way he has touched him, that he hopes will leave bruises as a mark. And then, the head of his cock nudging against his open entrance, just shy of going in, a point of the slightest contact, just the tease of that enough that this sensation in those few moments alone could almost drive him insane, and then, finally, mercifully, he's going inside.
Sandaphon throws his head back with a gasp, back moving up to arch, as Belial slides smoothly in all the way up into him, in one smooth, fluid motion and no resistance at all, lubrication and preparation smoothing away any potential difficult that his his soft pliant body hasn't already, willing and welcoming him in as if he belongs there. His first thought is oh, Belial's cock feels just like the summon's did— but it's better, much better, in ways he can't understand, and it makes his already. He feels as if a longing hunger that must have been there far, far before that incident has finally been sated, feels a relief so deep from the bottom of his heart that it's as if he released a breath he hasn't know he was holding for years— and a desperate desire not to ever feel that absence again, the delirious pleasure of having Belial inside him, leads Sandalphon to wrapping his legs a round Belial's waist, as tight as he can, with all the power he can muster, to keep him in there, to make sure he doesn't pull out or let go. ]
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Before Sandalphon can articulate an answer or anything to say at all, how to express both his joy at the mental image and his plea to make it a reality, he notices Belial preparing himself, and finally Belial's putting his hands on him— powerful ands gripping him and digging into his delicate skin with the kind of roughness that hurts in the best way, with that sweet, loving cruelty interposed with indulgence that has characterized the way he has touched him, that he hopes will leave bruises as a mark. And then, the head of his cock nudging against his open entrance, just shy of going in, a point of the slightest contact, just the tease of that enough that this sensation in those few moments alone could almost drive him insane, and then, finally, mercifully, he's going inside.
Sandaphon throws his head back with a gasp, back moving up to arch, as Belial slides smoothly in all the way up into him, in one smooth, fluid motion and no resistance at all, lubrication and preparation smoothing away any potential difficult that his his soft pliant body hasn't already, willing and welcoming him in as if he belongs there. His first thought is oh, Belial's cock feels just like the summon's did— but it's better, much better, in ways he can't understand, and it makes his already. He feels as if a longing hunger that must have been there far, far before that incident has finally been sated, feels a relief so deep from the bottom of his heart that it's as if he released a breath he hasn't know he was holding for years— and a desperate desire not to ever feel that absence again, the delirious pleasure of having Belial inside him, leads Sandalphon to wrapping his legs a round Belial's waist, as tight as he can, with all the power he can muster, to keep him in there, to make sure he doesn't pull out or let go. ]