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Sylus presses forward again, his head pressing snugly against my battered cervix again, before stopping entirely
“Ngh… Sylus..?” I blearily blink open my eyes.
His left hand curls into the sheets above my head. His other hand fumbles only once before snagging the marker thrown onto the nightstand only a few minutes before.
“I should-” He grunts as I clench around him, “just keep this right here…”
He bites off the cap, it’s discarded somewhere and I distantly feel a cool, scratchy sensation on my cheek. The contrast on my hot hot skin makes me shiver. He curses as I clench.
Turning my head away from the feeling, Sylus grasps my chin and pulls it back.
“Nuh-uh sweetie,” He rolls his delicious hips in and out. He’s grinning practically ear to ear, even with two or three wobbly ‘whiskers’ of his own decorating his cheeks. They’re smudged from exertion. Or maybe they weren’t straight to begin with when I drew them there.
“These are the terms you set,” He sings, tossing the marker back vaguely in the direction of the nightstand.
“Smug- OH! Bastard!” His thrust mid-insult only makes him preen under my ‘praise’.
“Oh? I thought cats were supposed to be smug.”
“You’re feeling so good, I doubt you’d be able to hold the marker to put another whisker when I cum, sweetie…”
He curls inward and slides his knees under my shaking legs. The silk sheets offer no friction as he hoists me up to straddle his hips. His abdomen shines with our combined mess.
Sylus thinks this might be the most erotic sights he’s ever been privvy to. You, a fucked out mess on his lap, covered in bite marks, bruises, and- ah, countless marker ‘whiskers’ as a testament to all the orgasms he’s drawn out of you.
Slumping against his sweaty chest, my legs can’t even begin to hold myself up. Smug bastard.
Sliding himself back in, I can’t even begin to protest as he pushes past my abused hole.
“Fuck, Sylus!” I whine, shaking like a leaf.
“That’s what we’re doing, sweetie.”
My curled fist lands on his pec and he can only vibrate in laughter at my attempt.
His voice tickles my ear, the other hand brushing back sweaty hair that clings to my neck.
“What was that about playing games and looking like a cat?”