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logThis is bad and I am bad.
“Oh, dear. Another outburst, Sandy? This is the third time in a week.”
But of course. Sandalphon’s core was straining against the modification that had tainted its white exterior with specks of black, struggling to process why it felt so conflicted. Belial had left it that way on purpose: Sandalphon was at his most alluring when he was in the throes of fiery rage.
Although it was a little concerning, how frequent these outbursts were. Belial wondered if Sandalphon would lose his sanity sooner than later. Would insanity cause Sandalphon to be even less inhibited? He was still such a prude despite the seed of lust Belial had planted in that white, white core.
“You won’t tell me anything!” shouted Sandalphon, his pretty face contorted into an ugly scowl that sent a warm flush down Belial’s belly. “You know that my memories are faulty. All I want to know is how I became the supreme primarch.”
“Like I said, that was our reverent Cilius’ doing. He paved the way for you to rise through the ranks—and you didn’t even have to spread your legs for it! Sweet, huh? But you’re missing out.”
Sandalphon looked away sharply, a rosy hue dusting his cheeks. Like this, he was so much more susceptible to suggestions of a sexual nature. Licking his lips, Belial stepped closer and pressed himself against Sandalphon’s back.
To a reddening ear, he whispered, “What do you say, Sandy? There’s a better way to work out stress than these outbursts. Let me show you. You’ll be riding on the euphoria of your orgasm for days.”
Then he mouthed the warm jaw in front of him, sucking hungrily as Sandalphon tensed. Belial reached around the soon trembling body, and his hands moved deftly to slip under Sandalphon’s top and explore the virgin skin that the perfect and utterly boring Lucifer had neglected.
Sandalphon moaned. He all but sighed, “Lucifer—” and turned his head toward Belial, whose smirk widened around his jaw.
“Oh, dear. Another outburst, Sandy? This is the third time in a week.”
But of course. Sandalphon’s core was straining against the modification that had tainted its white exterior with specks of black, struggling to process why it felt so conflicted. Belial had left it that way on purpose: Sandalphon was at his most alluring when he was in the throes of fiery rage.
Although it was a little concerning, how frequent these outbursts were. Belial wondered if Sandalphon would lose his sanity sooner than later. Would insanity cause Sandalphon to be even less inhibited? He was still such a prude despite the seed of lust Belial had planted in that white, white core.
“You won’t tell me anything!” shouted Sandalphon, his pretty face contorted into an ugly scowl that sent a warm flush down Belial’s belly. “You know that my memories are faulty. All I want to know is how I became the supreme primarch.”
“Like I said, that was our reverent Cilius’ doing. He paved the way for you to rise through the ranks—and you didn’t even have to spread your legs for it! Sweet, huh? But you’re missing out.”
Sandalphon looked away sharply, a rosy hue dusting his cheeks. Like this, he was so much more susceptible to suggestions of a sexual nature. Licking his lips, Belial stepped closer and pressed himself against Sandalphon’s back.
To a reddening ear, he whispered, “What do you say, Sandy? There’s a better way to work out stress than these outbursts. Let me show you. You’ll be riding on the euphoria of your orgasm for days.”
Then he mouthed the warm jaw in front of him, sucking hungrily as Sandalphon tensed. Belial reached around the soon trembling body, and his hands moved deftly to slip under Sandalphon’s top and explore the virgin skin that the perfect and utterly boring Lucifer had neglected.
Sandalphon moaned. He all but sighed, “Lucifer—” and turned his head toward Belial, whose smirk widened around his jaw.