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The first thing he realizes when he comes to is that he’s hard.
“Oh—hah—!” He gasps out helplessly when a sudden shock of pleasure overwhelms him. Then another, then another until he’s writhing helplessly within the cage of someone’s grip. His arse is tilted up, a pillow, he realizes, underneath his hips. Drowsiness clogs his mind and, for a moment, he’s floundering in the pleasure, unable to react and only able to come to terms with his surroundings: he’s naked, face-down on the bed with a hand gripping his nape harshly. He’s drooling into the covers, mouth gaping uselessly into them, and his toes are curling in pleasure involuntarily.
“Wh-what—a-ah—” he moans out, unable to get a firmer grip on reality. Someone’s—someone is inside him, he realizes with a cry that half distressed, half in utter pleasure as his prostate is struck. Tiny pulses light up his senses, and he’s lost for a moment as the pressure gets harder, faster; his eyes roll up in his head and his body seizes out of his control, curling up into himself. He tries to get away, yet at the same time he wants more and—
“Awake finally, my dear?” A breathy chuckle accompanies the voice so familiar it makes Ignis’ blood freeze in his veins. The hand at his neck retreats and hands grip his hips hard enough to bruise.
“N-no—!” Ignis groans, trying to twist away, but his sudden resistance has Ardyn pulling at his hips, enough to impale him on his cock deep enough for Ignis to gasp brokenly and scrabble at the covers. He’s so—he’s so big that Ignis has trouble trying to figure out why he isn’t hurting from the stretch, why it’s barely even a sting with such massive girth just thrusting mercilessly into him. It has his form contorting again, and Ignis’ eyes widen at nothing when Ardyn suddenly seems to go faster, deeper. “Nnagh—! O-oh, A-Ardyn—!” It’s meant to be a protest, but the pleasure wracking his frame has it sounding like a plead. It makes his cheeks burn with shame but he’s convulsing again when Ardyn decides to reach under and jerk at him in rough stroke.
“Perhaps I should have released you from the spell moments earlier,” Ardyn purrs, his voice catching on the hollow of Ignis’ neck when he leans over and seems to reach so impossibly deeper into him. “You were trying so hard to fuck yourself on my fingers, my dear. It was positively enthralling.”
“What—what did you—nngh—what did you do t-to me—?” Ignis manages to gasp out. Ardyn, at the very least, has stopped thrusting as hard, but instead is rolling his hips slowly, sparking pleasure at the base of his spine. It’s not as—mind-blowing as the thrusts, which is the only thing Ignis can be thankful for, considering his lack of control during them.
“Just a small spell, Ignis,” Ardyn murmurs, rubbing his chin across his upper back. The feeling has his back arching, going straight to his cock, and Ignis tries to raise up on his hindlegs to kick at him, to get away, but a hand slithers twixt his collarbone and holds steady at his throat. It’s a firm grip, loose enough for Ignis to breath comfortably, but it’s enough to let Ignis know that Ardyn can snap his neck at any moment. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, my dear.” His chest seems to rumble with how deeply his voice reverberates through Ignis’ being. “Why not stay for a while.”
“No—” Ignis breathes out weakly, writhing despite himself, and when he swallows he can feel the heat of Ardyn’s palm. “Just—let me—let me—ah—!”
He gets his wish of sitting up, except Ardyn’s controlling the motion. He raises on his knees, Ignis’ thighs resting outside of them, and Ignis gasps uselessly when the motion presses Ardyn against his prostate. He’s so deep. Almost involuntarily, Ignis rolls his hips, and tries to stifle the moan that comes out.
“Don’t fight this,” Ardyn murmurs into his ear, and lips press softly against the shell of it. He starts rocking his hips back and forth, tiny jabs against Ignis’ prostate that sends pleasure shooting up and down his spine. Despite himself, Ignis arches his back into it, mouth opening and closing, and he instinctively grasps Ardyn’s hip. “You belong on my cock, my dear. You know you do.”
“G-go to hell—!” Ignis manages to spit out, clawing at Ardyn’s hips; he thinks he draws blood at some point, but Ardyn barely flinches. Instead, the man retaliates by driving his cock harder into Ignis, enough for him to cry out in surprised pleasure. “Nn—ah—!”
“Already have.” Ardyn chuckles like it’s an inside joke. Ignis doesn’t get it, but there’s nothing else to pay attention to when Ardyn starts the torture again. His hips go faster, his thrusts deeper. His other hand snakes around Ignis’ hip, trapping him within his iron embrace, and grips Ignis’s cock firmly at the base. “You’ll be begging me by the end of this, dear.”
“No—” Ignis hisses, though he’s already feeling the pleasure overwhelm him; his hips jolt forward, trying to garner some friction from Ardyn’s hold, but the man’s holding him tightly within his arms. All he can do is take Ardyn’s cock, thrusting in short motions in their current position, and writhe uselessly in his hands. “O-oh—haah—!” His eyes roll back. His thighs shake with the onslaught of sensation.
“Look at you,” Ardyn whispers, kissing along the crook of his neck. “Such a wanton, pretty thing.”
His words are poison, but Ignis looks down anyway when Ardyn’s hand seems to make the barest move. His cock looks an angry red, trapped in his grip, and precum leaks at the tip. He’s so hard it hurts but the pleasure is constant, torturously so, and he feels drool roll down his chin with how long he’s had his mouth open in never-ending moans.
But how long had he been moaning? He’s already lost track, trapped in this endless cycle of pleasure/pain, held in place by a man who doesn’t seem to lose stamina in the way his thrusts are just as strong as the last, and seem to only go deeper and faster with each second.
“G-gods—!” he makes the mistake of crying out when a dry orgasm hits, making his jerk and buck in Ardyn’s arms. He can’t move much, only uncontrollably shake and sob in pleasure, and something about that makes him even more unbearably turned on. He needs to—he needs—
Ardyn suddenly stops, and Ignis chokes on a protest, hips rocking back uselessly.
“My name,” he hisses suddenly, squeezing his cock so hard it’s starting to hurt more than feel good now. “You will say my name, not theirs. They are not the ones down here pleasuring you, making you lose your mind. They are not the ones with their arms around you, forcing you to squirm in mindless pleasure!”
“Y-you…” Ignis gasps out, his cock throbbing; he needs release. He needs it so badly and Ardyn’s here, pressed deliciously against him. How had he gotten here again? Hadn’t he been trying to escape before—
“Say my name,” Ardyn murmurs dangerously, and gyrates his hips slowly, enough for Ignis to focus on that and that alone.
“A-Ardyn…” Ignis breathes out, and whimpers out his pleasure when a hard thrust comes in response. He needs more of that. He needs it— “Ardyn,” he moans out, louder now, and Ardyn delivers sharper, shorter thrusts that has Ignis choking on his own saliva. “Ardyn, nn, Ardyn—!” he cries out as Ardyn starts fucking into him again, faster, almost possessively than before. He’s sobbing in pleasure in seconds, entire body shaking in his arms, and he needs to—he needs to—!
“Let me come, please…!” Ignis cries out, clenching tightly around Ardyn’s girth. His cock is so hard; it throbs insistently with each thrust, the need intensifying as seconds pass. “Ardyn, please, please—!”
“That’s it—” Ardyn groans out lowly, and Ignis arches his back as teeth sink into his neck. His eyes roll back, a loud shout escaping his throat as Ardyn relinquishes his grip, instead giving one stroke, two, and Ignis is coming hard, spurting heavily across the sheets.
“O-oh—!” Ignis moans helplessly; his body is still trembling from the strength of his orgasm, and Ardyn doesn’t stop thrusting. He doesn’t stop moving. His eyes roll up, body going limp and pliant in his arms, soft breathes accompanied with quiet ‘nn’s.
At some point, Ardyn lowers him down to the bed again. Ignis’ hips have gone numb and his mind blanks pleasantly from the orgasm. He’s overstimulated, drowning, yet at the same time a hazy drowsiness has fallen over his mind. He lays bonelessly, letting Ardyn manoeuvre his body however he wishes it, and at some point he’s on his back, legs wrapped around Ardyn’s waist as he thrusts into him deeply, almost lazily.
“That’s it,” Ardyn murmurs, and there’s a ghastly smile on his face, dark ichor dripping from his eyes and lips. Ignis should be alarmed but he only stares mindlessly, panting quietly, as Ardyn leans down and kisses him.