"You're doing so well darling, yes yes," he hisses out, eyes slipping shut as he fights back the urge to bite again. His reaper is writhing under him, is so perfectly pliant and lovely in his arms, and the added sensations of being within him and grinding against him at the same time are more than he could have ever imagined.

With a rough thrust he winds his hand into Mattheiu's hair, yanking him down into a messy kiss as he bottoms out within the man, fangs grazing his lower lip. All the heat, all the love, all the lust that he's ever had is poured into the kiss, and there's something so possessive, so worryingly right about taking his reaper in this way that were he in a clearer state of mind he would perhaps worry.

"Let me hear you," he manages, leaning down to bury his head against Mattheiu's shoulder, "come now darling, come on-"