Oooh 98 for Edrad !!! There's not enough content for him in here ! He seems quite serious so that might be fun.
((I took a bit of creative liberty with the prompt dialogue here~))
98. “I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”
You sit almost in his lap— between his spread thighs, mere inches of distance between your clothed torso and his bare skin. Instinctively, baring so much flesh makes him nervous. You’re a human, not a real threat, but knowing that doesn’t make it easier to bare his belly and let you close.
“Still okay?” you ask as your warm, slick fingers venture lower. They’ve been wrapped around his cock (as close as they can get, with how thick it is) until now, doing things that have his body simmering with heat.
“Yeah.” His reply is short, but talking is tough when he’s distracted.
You press a kiss to his collarbone, the brief brush of warm lips landing dangerously close to the dark void below. One more whispered warning, and two of your fingers hook up and inside. Edrad shudders. It doesn’t hurt, but the skin you’re touching feels almost too sensitive to tolerate. Vulnerable. Like you’re petting his fucking organs, for how unnatural the sensation gets.
He’s built big enough that it’s not much of a stretch, at least. Your two fingers fit up to the second knuckle with ease before he starts to tense up with discomfort— and that’s enough. More than enough. Those fingers crook up, adjust their angle, and rub slow, searching little strokes until the pads catch on a dull, flat bump buried past the upper wall of flesh. The response is instant. Pleasure rips a wounded-sounding moan out of his chest. Fuck.
Edrad jolts, stomach clenching. Those unfamiliar inner muscles flutter around your fingers; maybe trying to push them out, maybe seeking more.
“Does that feel good?” you ask, and Edrad doesn’t know how to answer. The not-quite-pain is an aching, insistent force, pushing past every bodily defense so there’s nothing he can do but surrender, and feel.
At that angle, it’s like you’re pressing right up against the base of his cock, so sharply sensitive that the slightest friction has him clutching at your shirt and choking back whines. It’s too much in a way that doesn’t happen when you only touch him from the outside— yet still undeniably good.
“That’s a cute face you’re making,” you say, and the strangeness of the statement momentarily drags Edrad’s attention away from the building tension under his skin. “I like it. You’re so cute when I make you feel good.”
The shock leaves him momentarily speechless. He’s a Hollow. Even this human-like body he’s in now is made for nothing but power and combat. You’re stupidly, confusingly gentle with him, but Edrad still never thought he’d hear you say that— cute— and especially not over something as unnecessarily indulgent as intimate touch. It’s surreal, lacking anything resembling a reasonable explanation, and yet, that uselessly soft (human) sentiment has his chest going tight. Unfair, he thinks, how entirely unfair.
But that baseless affection you offer is why he’s here, in the first place— why he trusts you enough to submit to the cresting pleasure, and let it peak. He’s on the edge already, and the praise was a finishing blow.
