The variety of sensations- too much, far too much. Scrambled his every thought and twisted his words into half-articulated syllables, a waterfall of weak pleas out of his open, panting mouth. Blunt drag of manicured nails, fingertips, slick tongue, exquisite in the baffling way that pain is exquisite when the sting was so much that his adrenaline turned it to a radiating thrum, in the baffling way he wanted more. It threatened to crack him open, and he wanted to; split apart, spill out of his fissures, cascade to the floor, drip and pool on the flagstones.
Pleasure bloomed so bright, it scorched. His skeleton stifled him, he could feel the edges of his senses testing the boundaries of his overwrought flesh.
But when the teeth came, he tilted his hips up anyway.
“This one will not use the mouth,” Joy-in-Sorrow had said, Becket remembered it plainly, and yet- the gentle scrape of teeth greeted the overwrought flesh of his thigh. He dared not look down, and so he threw his head back, screwing his eyes shut even as something feather-light kissed his lids.
“Look not away, keening one,” Joy-in-Sorrow said, “Partake in all senses.”
And so he did dare a glance through fluttering lids down to his own shaking thighs and saw with married wonder and revulsion that Joy-in-Sorrow’s skeletal had had lengthened, darkened, so that it appeared a massive thing of roiling shadow, expansive and clawed and made up of the blackest matter of the star-studded cosmos. Within the palm, Beckett spied, felt, trembled to be beneath, a darkened maw lined with many jagged teeth, winking white like starlight.
On the crest of an ecstatic, serrated breath, Beckett screamed.
#WIPSnps #nsfw
A little freaky mage erotica.
