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You’ve known him since he hatched from an egg— and because of that, despite his massive size advantage, you always have the upper hand.
Beelzemon had entered your bedroom without really saying anything, only to collapse on top of you, sprawled comfortably in your bed; you’d ignored the sudden crush of weight, continuing to scroll on your phone as he adjusted himself, his mask bumping across your skin as Beelzemon begins to nuzzle against your neck. Laid out on your stomach, you kick your feet back a few times, giggling as your heels dig into the thick leather of Beelzemon’s tacky clothes. He just groans quietly, a sharp huff of air that rolls across your neck, followed by the gentle graze of his teeth.
“—hey,” he mutters against your reddening skin. When you don’t even hum in acknowledgment, he huffs again, hard enough to send strands of your hair flying. “C’mon, pay attention to me—”
“And why should I?” You don’t look away from your phone, but you do bring one hand up, tangling your fingers through his soft blond hair as he returns to nipping at your shoulder with his sharp fangs. “You’re awfully demanding. I don’t think I should reward that kinda behavior.”
“Y’can’t just keep leavin’ me like this,” he whines. Before you can ask what he means, he rolls his hips against your ass— even through the layers of clothing between you both, you quickly catch his drift. He’s already achingly hard, and the thought immediately sends a shudder through you— but what kind of tamer would you be if you gave in right away?
“I dunno,” you hem and you haw, finally sparing a glance over your shoulder at the needy Digimon. “Like I said, you’re kind of bratty—”
“Please,” he bites out. It’s punctuated with another jerk of his hips, his clothed cock brushing up against your own covered core just right, almost managing to drag a quiet moan from your throat. His bright red eyes are wide and pleading as he searches your face. “Please, please I’ll behave, I’ve been good already—”
He ruts against you as he begs, his cock straining even more against the confines of leather, desperate to be buried in you already; one of his clawed hands gently traces down your body until he can knead at the fullness of your thighs, his gleaming tail thumping out a rhythm against your mattress. His chest heaves and his breath shudders and he chokes out one last “please” as his pace stutters. He’s more than willing to grind against you until he cums in his clothes, but he’d much rather—
On any other day, maybe you’d hold him by the collar and have him ride your thigh until he came. For now, though, the sight of the powerful Digimon absolutely at your mercy and desperate for your attention is too much for you to take.
“God, okay, I want you in me,”
You’ve barely hissed the words out before Beelzemon has effortlessly flipped you on your back. He shrugs off his coat as he drags you further down your bed, the muscles in his arms flexing powerfully as his grip on your tender hips tightens. You can’t stare for long, though— he descends like a storm and captures your mouth with his, pointed fangs digging into your bottom lip until you taste metal, quickly replaced by his greedy tongue as if he’s trying to devour you whole. His hands fumble across your body, the chilled steel sending goosebumps across your skin. He’s at least trying to be gentle this time as he peels your clothes off; in his haste though, something inevitably rips, and he snarls into your kiss and just lets his claws do the work. Clothes can be replaced.
It’s a whirlwind that clouds your senses; the roughness of his tongue against yours, the lingering frost of his rigid claws against your soft breasts and hips and thighs, his own skin warm and ruddy once you sneak your hands up the back of his shirt. When Beelzemon moans, it vibrates through your chest and sends warmth flooding to your core. You’re soaked.
Your attention is dragged elsewhere as his tail winds up your leg, the blunt tip flicking across your clit once, twice, again and again until your hips jolt forward and you’re grinding against his thigh as he keeps you pinned in place. Beelzemon breathes out a laugh as you try to keep your composure, but you’re openly moaning against his mouth, and it’s hard to ignore the way your moans change pitch the moment his tail presses into you. It’s so cold— so cold in contrast to the heat that races through the rest of you— and so frustratingly slow; you try to rock your hips again and meet his tail as it thrusts into you, but Beelzemon’s strong hands clamp down on your waist and halt your movements. You don’t stand a chance against his strength. All you can do is drop your head against the pillows and whine as his tail works you open.
Beelzemon’s weight shifts, and as he pulls himself down your body, your wandering hands find purchase in his feathery hair. He grunts as you drag your nails across his scalp, but he stays focused— when he finally nestles himself in between your thighs, he hoists them over his muscular shoulders, not warning you before his rough tongue begins lapping at your clit, sending new waves of electricity pulsing through you all at once. He drags the flat of his tongue up the length of your slit, collecting your taste all at once before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently, careful his teeth don’t dig in. Your thighs clench around his head, and you can feel your walls beginning to tighten around his tail; when you sharply tug at his hair again, Beelzemon groans, and the vibrations against your clit have you writhing beneath him.
“C’mon now, that’s—” your voice breaks into a moan before you can catch it, “that’s enough—”
Beelzemon’s mouth vanishes from your flushed skin, and when he smirks up at you from his beloved spot between your thighs, his glistening face is smeared with your slick. “I said I’d behave,” he drawls, resting his head against your thigh, “Just wanna make sure my tamer’s nice an’ ready, ma’am,”
To drive the point home, he thrusts his tail again, and you shudder as the ridges drag against your walls. “And as your tamer, I’m telling you I’m ready,”
Despite his relentless ministrations, you manage to set your jaw and hold his gaze; Beelzemon hesitates for the briefest moment before he gives a relenting nod. He’s permanently aware of the difference between you both; in contrast to the endless power that ripples throughout his incredible body, you’re small and fragile, something to be protected. But if you think you’re ready, then—
When he releases your thighs from his crushing grip, there’s already marks reddening where he’d held you so tightly. Neither of you pays any mind, though— he finally fumbles with his zipper, hardly bothering to yank his pants down farther than it takes for his cock to spring out. It’s throbbing and dripping with precum, and as swollen as he’s gotten, you can see why he’d been whining for your attention earlier— yet he’d still chosen to take care of you first.
One of his hands grasps at your chin, his claws digging in just enough to keep your mind present, but not enough to break the skin.
“If ya think yer ready—” He pointedly holds your gaze once more, and all you can do is nod frantically. Finally Beelzemon lines his cock up with your entrance, sheathing himself deep within you all at once.
Your sharp gasp overpowers his quiet moans. No matter how often you do this, he’s so big— you’re so full— your thighs tense around his waist, your body trembling with effort despite the fact that he’s staying still. It’s clearly an effort on his part too— Beelzemon has his eyes screwed shut, because if he looks at you now, you won’t get the time you need to adjust. One of his hands finds yours, interlocking your fingers and pressing you against the mattress. When you’re sure you can take it, you gently rock your hips, goading him into setting his own pace, and that’s all Beelzemon needs.
He pulls back and you whine at the loss of his cock, but when he snaps his hips back against yours, all the air rushes from your lungs. You can’t stop the whimpers that bubble up in your throat; as he pumps in and out of you, his cock dragging against all the right spots, his tail covered in your slick and circling your clit again, all you can think is that it’s like he was built for you.
“That’s what I was waitin’ for,” he sighs in a shaky voice. He fucks himself into your dripping cunt again and again, cooing praises all the while. “Y’feel so good— so g—”
His voice breaks and he gives up on his words, instead leaning forward to press you down with his full weight, pumping himself into you so nicely that you think you might cry. He stretches you deliciously, his cock reaching impossibly deep, and it isn’t long before you’re seeing stars; the glow of his eyes dazzles your vision, his teeth stinging as he presses his mouth against yours in a sloppy kiss as you twitch and squirm and cry out for him.
The heat pooling deep in your core finally overwhelms you; you come with a low groan of his name, your walls clenching around Beelzemon’s cock as if you’re trying to keep him there forever. Your climax drags him over the edge with you— Beelzemon hisses out a string of swears, his hips slamming against your faster and faster as he chases his own release. All at once he slams himself into you deeper than ever, crushing you under his full weight as he cums, filling you to the brim and then some. It’s never-ending, his cum flooding your cunt and spilling past your entrance and rolling down your thighs.
Spent, Beelzemon collapses on top of you, both your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. He recovers before you do, propping himself up on shaky limbs as he finally pulls out, even more cum spilling out of you now that he’s pulled back. You whine again, oversensitive as the loss of his softening cock leaves you feeling empty— when you catch his heated gaze, focused intensely on your dripping pussy, you’re suddenly embarrassed enough to slam your thighs shut and obscure his view.
“Aw, don’t do that,” he says, easily nudging your thighs back apart and lowering himself to keep staring. “Yer waistin’ it all,” he grumbles. Before you can say anything, he’s delved back in, running his tongue up your slit again to collect the dripping cum before it hits the sheets. You gasp, your sensitive body trying to pull away before he sends you over the edge again— but Beelzemon’s hands latch onto your hips once more, keeping you in place as he eats you out like a man starved.
No wonder Beelzemon are considered insatiable.