@cunala Sullivan said: "Shut up, sir." Speaking softly into his ear, he pulled down Purple's cape collar as he began to kiss his neck roughly. Even bringing him close by his belt to grind his hips aginst the devil's. "Just shut your damn mouth." He chuckled lowly, his claws gripping into the backside of the other.
Oh what was happening here? Satanick feels a heated shudder run through his whole body as the words are spoken and lips roughly press to his neck. When did Sullivan get so ‒ dominant? It wasn’t aggressive, yet. A hot puff of air in the form of a confused, though definitely needy, whine escapes the Pitch Devil’s mouth when their hips grind together. The claws at his backside sent prickles of pain through his nerves, wings flapping in a display of his nervousness. This was very sudden.
❝ S‒ Sullivan-? ❞
He can’t keep it shut, Sullivan. He needed to ask, considering you’re a few steps from pinning him to a wall.