sylvain readily admits that he's horrible; the apology does nothing to temper his desire. knowing how eager sothis is to please him only makes his cock throb inside her sweet heat. he indulges her with a lingering kiss, mouthing tenderly until lips grow soft and numb between them -- stoking her desire. soon enough, sothis' vocalizations of discomfort shift into muted pleasure, & she flexes the heat between her legs, shifting impatiently on his cock.
per her orders, he begins to move, working up a shaky rythmn. she feels incredible around him, opening up with a twitch every time he sinks in deep & sucking at his tip when he pulls out too far. he buries his face into her hair, hands wrapped fast around her waist and hips, lifting her up and down to match his fervid thrusts. he feels like he's losing his mind, sating himself in the well of her thighs.
he knows that she isn't human; there's no frame of reference for him to understand her or deduce what she's thinking. he himself, however, is susceptible to sentiment. feelings of protectiveness bud for her as she moans and twitches in his arms, tiny palms clinging onto his back, as if weathering a storm. she's grown utterly lax from the pleasure he's giving, muscles completely loosened, cunt drooling a mess into his lap.
"you like that, sothis? god, you're so wet -- ah, you're leaking so much." he voices at her ear, hoarse in midst of pleasure. he wants so desperately to perform at his best -- to ruin her for anyone else. he tips her face up, kisses her temple, her nose, her jaw, "i'm going to go a bit harder, alright?"