maybe he’d never felt human before.
he was always too fragile to touch, a piece of heavenly fruit so holy, no one ever dared to take a bite. whatever garden Uri had grown in, whatever sacred ground he had his roots in, Kenny had pulled him from thorny vines made of aristocratic rule and thousands of years of bloody war, cut him out with the dagger he’d buried in his arm. and now, in this moment, the juice from that pious, innocent fruit, dripped down Kenny’s throat, made a mess of the marble floor. the way Kenny took hold of him, the way he commanded without words, the way his lips felt against his back — he wanted to be fully consumed by the pleasure, by every single touch, entirely new to him. Uri was sweet, like cherry flowers and peach pits, and by his own power, by the power of the god buried within him, eating away at him, KILLING HIM, he vowed that no one else would know that taste.
only Kenny Ackermann could know
what it felt like to kill god
by loving him.
every nerve in his body was set on fire. his scream of pleasure echoed into the halls of the church, delicate fingertips gripped onto cold marble. the pain was like no other, like lightning draped in honey. the violent tremble running through his small body made his head jerk back, anchored by calloused fingers in silver hair. crystalline eyes turned to amethyst in a flicker before he fought back against it. this was not the king’s pleasure to feel, it was URI’S, and his alone. he had felt pain, so much pain, and yet — this was worlds apart. it was pain he craved, not pain he merely accepted or tried to shy away from. the aura of delicious agony grew brighter, hotter, with every push Kenny made inside of him.
tears pricked at the corners of eyes screwed shut, instinctive rather than from sorrow. his breathing became ragged, begging for air from burning lungs. he gasped out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, ribs creating bright lines in his back as he heaved air in and out. his own arousal ached, dripped clear upon the ground, but he didn’t dare touch it. he felt like he would collapse under his own weight, his hands needed to stay gripped against the pedestal.
“K e n n y,” Uri breathed out when he felt Kenny push as deep as he could ( he thought ), a singular shiver going down his entire body. the rhythm made his body play along with it, the feathery strands of his hair fluttering light. “It... “ the king stammered slightly before looking back over his shoulder. his face held an expression he’d not made before, painted by lust, love, obsession, and obedience. “It feels so good to — have you inside of me !” it came out in a soft exclamation, tinged by that loving pain. yet still, he craved; the human, the man Uri Reiss, he wanted, he needed this.
“Kiss me — Please.” Uri’s voice was soft, coming from pale rouged lips, like bruised rose petals.
baratheonpilled
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