Work Text:
Your fingers are trembling as they thread through his hair, thoroughly mussing the chocolate curls. You grip the strands as if they’re a lifeline, your breaths leaving you so fast you feel light-headed.
Nestled between your thighs, Asmodeus looks up at you, his eyes glittering with mischief. His chin is slick with your essence, which he casually wipes onto his thumb. “You can handle one more, can’t you, darling?” he asks. Then he cheerily inserts the digit into his mouth.
“O-One more?” you say, transfixed by the show he’s putting on for you. In your current debauched state, it’s difficult to process what he’s saying. Then his words register, and you drop your head onto the pillow to stare at the ceiling.
He’s already given you three orgasms. Now he’s planning for a fourth?
He used his fingers the first time, and only his fingers. “I wonder if I can make you cum just with this,” he’d mused, his smile wide and predatory. So you fucked yourself on his manicured fingers while he watched, just like he wanted.
As you came down from your high, he’d moved you to the bed. “Turn around for me,” he instructed. He was generous enough to help you get onto shaky hands and knees before pressing his chest against your back and slipping his cock inside of you.
Eventually you fell onto your back, panting. Asmodeus was already kissing a path down your chest, your stomach, and lower still. “Wanna know how you taste...after I’ve cum in you...” he’d said between nips, his hands kneading your thighs. “I bet it’ll be delicious~”
Is this insane stamina a demon thing? It has to be. It feels like you’ve been writhing in Asmodeus’s bed, under his ministrations, for hours now, yet he’s shown no sign of slowing down. Meanwhile you’re sensitive to the touch, every brush against your skin electrifying.
You could tell Asmodeus to stop if you wanted to. You know he’d pull away immediately, let you catch your breath or finally rest. But you need to know how deep this well goes.
Just how high is a demon’s libido? Especially when that demon is the Avatar of Lust?
Asmodeus coos your name, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. While you were lost in thought, he must’ve moved to hover above you, his arms bracketing your frame. “Hey, are you ignoring me? I’m hurt.” He pouts. As usual, you’re unable to discern whether he’s being genuine or not.
You blink up at him. His hair is mussed from your fingers running through it constantly, his cheeks flushed with exertion, and he doesn’t have a stitch of clothing on. It’s difficult to focus on his words, instead of the pretty picture he makes. “Um. Wh-What?”
He nips your earlobe in retribution. “I asked, can you cum one more time for me?”
Oh. Right. He wants to give you your fourth orgasm of the night. You swallow thickly before nodding eagerly. “Y-Yeah,” you gasp out. “I...think I can.”
“You can?” His hands settle onto your hips, squeezing gently. “Good. I’m glad. I don’t want this night to come to an end just yet.” His eyes sparkling with delight, he leans down to kiss you. Your lips part open at the brush of his tongue, and he lets out a pleased hum when you lick into his mouth.
The kiss is bitter and salty, considering where he’d just been, between your thighs, but you find you don’t mind the taste. It has you shuddering, in fact. Asmodeus has made you just as depraved as he is. You don’t have a moment to think more on that, because he’s tilting your chin up with one hand to deepen the kiss.
You’re so caught up in it that you almost don’t notice his other hand gliding down to lift your leg, encouraging it to wrap around his waist. You lift your other leg without prompting, twining both behind his back. This makes you press up against his warm abdomen, his erection bumping into your ass. You wiggle your hips against it, unable to help yourself.
Asmodeus puts a stop to that immediately, clamping down on your waist to keep you still. He pulls back from the kiss to chide you. “Ah, ah, ah! I don’t know how long I’ll last if you do that, darling.”
You frown, disgruntled. “Then hurry up, Asmo.”
He raises a brow at that. You realize then the mistake you made. “Oh? How rude. You didn’t even say the magic word. Maybe I just should leave you like this instead...”
You secure your legs around his waist tighter, your eyes widening. “W-Wait! I’m sorry!” you say quickly. You know better than to think he’s bluffing. He’s left you high and dry, yearning for more, before. “Please hurry up, Asmo.”
He smiles wickedly. “That’s more like it~” Finally, he gives in to your plea and lines himself up with one hand, before sinking into your tight, wet heat. You hiss through clenched teeth, still sore from your last orgasm. There’s no pain, though, just a tightening in your stomach as he bottoms out. Then he pulls out, slow, and you’re whining at the loss.
He coos at you, pressing a few kisses along your jaw before leaning back to take in your flushed reaction. His hips snap forward, and he buries himself inside you once more. He does it all again, and again, and again. He picks up the pace, until the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the lavish, spacious bedroom.
You can barely keep up, biting your bottom lip hard to stifle your moans. “F-Fuck, Asmo,” you whine instead, squeezing your eyes closed.
“Mhm, that is what you’re doing,” he says, teasing, though his tone is more strained than playful. This is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting you.
As the thrusts continue, your hands scramble to his shoulders, his back, for purchase. You grip him desperately in the hopes of some kind of support. Time has no meaning. For all you know, he could’ve been fucking you for hours, for days.
“So tight.” Asmodeus’s breathing grows laboured, though not as bad as yours is. “How are you, ah, still so tight? Feel like I could keep doing this, uhn, forever and, oh, never get tired.” Your eyes flutter open. Despite his words, a faint sheen of sweat dots his brow. He’s finally showing signs of fatigue. Even demonic stamina has its limits.
Pleasure continues to mount within you, steadily. You’re pushed further and further up the precipice, until you’re not sure when the dizzying drop will hit you. You’re thankful that Asmodeus is as winded as you are. Otherwise he’d drag this out, stop just shy of your release and make you beg for it, not relenting until you were a shaking, teary mess. You enjoy the edging, of course, but right now you want gratification without all the teasing that tends to come with it.
And, if your body’s reactions are any indication, that gratification will be here soon. Heat continues to build, your muscles tensing. Sweat gathers along your chest, along your hips.
Asmodeus strokes his hands along your sides, touching every inch of your bare skin as if he’s mapping your body and committing it to memory. Every moan and whimper of his name that escapes your lips has him grinning with glee, his eyes devouring the reactions that every snap of his hips pulls from you.
You can hear him gush about it, say, “So cute, you look so cute under me!” but his voice is distant, as if you’re underwater. You’re lost in sensation, in pleasure.
Which is why you practically jump when long, lithe fingers touch your clit. They circle your sore, sensitive nub before flicking at it in tandem with his thrusts. You throw your head back into the plush pillow beneath you, one hand scrambling frantically along the silk sheets of his bed.
Asmodeus knows when you’re about to cum. He always does. Maybe it’s because he’s the Avatar of Lust, or maybe he’s just attuned to you, but he leans down to your ear and says, sing-songingly, “Now, darling. Cum for me~”
“A-Asmo—” is all you can manage to gasp out.
With him deep inside your core and his fingers still circling your clit, you do just as he said. Your back arches, your toes curl, and you bury your face in his neck. You take in deep, gasping breaths as Asmodeus fucks you through your fourth orgasm. He smells of lavender and sweat, which turns out to be an intoxicating combination.
His own release hits soon enough, and he spills inside you with a high-pitched groan and his eyes squeezed shut. Breathless, you reach up to run a hand through his sweat-slick hair, before cupping his cheek. When his eyes open, they’re a deep molten gold.
For a few moments, the two of you stare at one another, your breaths mingling and limbs entangled. Asmodeus’s face softens, and something in your chest loosens at the sight. You love this moment, when he drops his confident, lustful veneer and bares himself to you, no walls keeping you apart.
You lean up to kiss the cupid’s bow of his mouth, and he dips down to meet you. Your body tenses when he pulls himself out of you, your cunt reflexively contracting around him in an effort to keep him inside. You wince at the emptiness and soreness you feel, but another kiss from Asmodeus has you relaxing into his embrace once more.
Eventually he lies down beside you, a leg thrown casually over your hip, as you both bask in the afterglow. A few minutes in, your eyes slip closed, fatigue catching up to you.
Then you feel Asmodeus’s nose trail along the column of your neck, his eyelashes fluttering against the sensitive skin there and making you shiver despite yourself. “Think you can go for a fifth round, darling?” he asks, his voice soft and cloyingly sweet.
Your eyes snap open. Demons, you think in disbelief, are absolutely insatiable.