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"aren't you pretty." you smile, hand sliding up to caress your lover's cheek. your thumb wipes away a single tear that spills down from his pretty eyelashes that he bats at you, eyes barely open as he bounces along.
your smile grows as you hum, leaning down to lean your face against the crook of his neck, sucking and biting the skin. his noises, in response, amplify. you listen to the whimpers that leave asmo's lips. the sobs, the cries, the moans with him letting your name spill a few times inbetween- you can't get enough of the sounds he makes.
"a-ah, please," he begs, and you feel his fingers scratching along your back. you giggle, content, and nuzzle your face deeper, if that's even possible. "i'll be good, i'll be good fo' you, i'll be ssssho good, pleease, " he cries, but he doesn't know what he's begging for. a break? no, not yet, this just feels too good to stop. for you to go harder? no, it's already too much. it's already so good. you're so good for him. filling him up so well.
your hands find his waist, gripping the flesh for better leverage as you continue pounding him. you can feel his legs shaking, trembling uncontrollably while he writhes with every sob of overstimulation. you wonder if he'll be able to walk for the next few days. it's okay if he can't, you're here to take care of him anyway. until then, you want to see how much he can take until you manage to break him.
"it's your fault, asmo," you tease while he continues chanting your name, too fucked out to form a response. "your fault," you pause inbetween each sentence to reward him with an even deeper thrust, "all your fault." it's all because of last night- when you and him had gone drinking, and he'd whispered pure filth in your ear- but among everything else, one thing had stood out to you.
"you could stretch me out, too, you know. i would let you."
your thrusts get rougher when you're reminded of him whispering that very sentence in your ear. "your fault," you groan, "for egging me on like that." asmo lets out a loud whine as a response, holding onto your arms for dear life.
the sensation is new to him. he's the avatar of lust, after all-- in most instances of intimacy, he holds some sort of power over his partner. but with you, the times when you take everything away from him, letting him lay there before you and take whatever you're willing to give him-- he can't get enough of it. in most cases, you're not like this. you're gentle, loving, almost ethereal before him, but maybe that's why he spurred you on this time. why he would whisper something like that in your ear. because he can't seem to get enough of when you treat him this way. ironic, really, for someone like asmodeus of all demons to be reduced to something like this. and for him to actually enjoy it.
it doesn't really matter, though. not to him right now, anyway-- it's not like he can think at the moment. but he doesn't really want to think, so it's alright. all he wants is to feel more of this. more of you. more of the way you fill him up, so perfectly. maybe he's made for you. tears spill once more from his half lidded eyes and his pretty nails dig into your skin-- you're eager to see the crescent shaped marks later when you're done with asmo.
his hips twitch upwards, he can't help it at this point. the small movement, however, makes you smile as you lean down to tease his nipples with your mouth, as if he didn't have enough stimulation already. you're rewarded with his pretty voice getting louder, and you drink every incoherent babble and the occasional whimper of your name up. you're grateful for every opportunity that lets you see him like this, as you're sure this is a side of asmo no creature has ever seen before in their lives.
you suppose they just couldn't please him as well as you do.
"come on, asmo," you pull your face away from his chest to whisper, "one more. give me one more, hm?" you ask, oh so nicely. asmo responds by closing his eyes and shaking his head, a soft whimper escaping his soft lips. he's probably trying to say that he can't , and you don't blame him. even you don't remember how long you've been at this for, having lost both the amount of times asmo's cum all over himself, and your sense of time in general at this point.
but that's not your problem, really, as your hand leaves asmodeus' waist, leaving a newly forming bruise in its place, to travel down and fist his sensitive cock instead. his hips buck up into your hand instincively, and you almost laugh. "it's the least you could do, hm? since all this is your fault?" you tease, your hot breath against his ear-- never failing to send shivers down his spine. he lets out a strangled moan, and you wonder what he could be trying to say.
you love him like this, you really do, and you know the mental images of the way he looks now won't be leaving your head for a good few weeks, and as much as you would want to go on forever, you can't drag this on for too long. "you said you would be good for me, asmo," you hum, and asmo can feel your lips curling into a smile against his skin as you bite and suck at it. "didn't you? come on, baby, one more,"
when you start going even faster, pounding into him, and your hand picks up pace around his cock, is when asmo realises he's not going to last long. he didn't think he would in the first place, as sensitive as he is, but the sensations overwhelm him-- everything feels like too much. all at once.
with a scream of your name, much to your delight, you feel him leak into your hand, and you guide him through his orgasm. your mutterings and pleas asking for one more, just one more from him shift into soft praises and declarations of love that you sing into his ear. he did do incredibly well, after all. asmo is just so wonderful. so perfect. you've never seen anything else like him, really.
your hand lets him go once you wring him dry, and you pull out slowly as you look down at his shaking form. your hands move to his face, cupping it, and you lean down to kiss his forehead. he lets out a pleased hum, and you smile against the sweaty skin.
you leave the bed to get some water for asmodeus, and he whines. a plea for you to come back and lay with him, probably, but you want to make sure he's okay before you do that.
bringing him the glass of water you'd poured for him, you sit down on the edge of the bed and slowly help him sit up along the headboard, raising the glass up to his lips as he holds the glass and gulps it down. mutters out a hum of graditude when he hands the glass back to you, which you set down on a bedside table.
he pleads for you to come snuggle now, but you laugh and wipe the sweat from his forehead with your hand instead. he might not care in the afterglow of sex, but you know damn well that he'll be crying and complaining all morning about how dirty he feels. "want me to run you a bath?" you offer, and he furrows his brows, stopping for a moment to think before nodding. "please. i feel sweaty and sticky and gross." he sighs, with a pout, and you're not surprised in the slightest by his response-- you squish his cheek between your fingers with a smile.
asmodeus blinks, tilts his head and asks you to join him in the bath ever so sweetly that it makes your heart ache. can you ever say no to this demon?
you don't think you can.
"sure," you chuckle, "i'll clean you up tonight."