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Nnoitra arches off the cool stone, a rare, choked gasp tearing from his throat as Tesla drives into him again. The slick, tight heat of Nnoitra's cunt grips Tesla's cock, pulling him deeper, and the sheer, unyielding pressure makes Nnoitra's head spin. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by a flush that darkens the pale skin of his cheeks and chest.
Tesla leans over him, his hair brushing against Nnoitra's jaw, a gesture of intimacy that feels utterly foreign. "My master," Tesla murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through Nnoitra's very bones. "You feel…incredible."
"Shut up," Nnoitra snarls, but the command comes out breathless and weak. He hates this. Hates the feeling of being so open, so vulnerable. Hates the way Tesla's steady, possessive thrusts are chipping away at his control, leaving behind a raw, exposed ache of pleasure. He tries to summon a scowl, to push Tesla away, but all he manages is a desperate roll of his hips, grinding down to take more of that perfect, punishing length.
Tesla just hums, a low, satisfied sound. He reaches between them, calloused thumb finding Nnoitra's cock and circling it with a pressure that makes Nnoitra's vision white out. His body betrays him completely, thighs trembling as he comes with a sharp, pathetic cry. Nnoitra turns his face into the pillow, muffling a groan of pure, undiluted mortification. Damn Tesla.
Tesla doesn't stop, his rhythm relentless as he works Nnoitra through the oversensitivity, drawing another helpless whine from him. "Look at me," Tesla commands, a rare steel in his tone. Nnoitra shudders but obeys, hazy eye locking with Tesla's. The sheer devotion he finds there is almost worse than the pleasure. Tesla buries himself deep with a final, possessive groan, filling Nnoitra and leaving him feeling entirely pathetic.