Work Text:
“Filthy.”
Malthael mutters deep and ravenous, the voice reaches my ears like the sweetest of sounds; so enticing the ways it rumbles in my mouth, into my throat. The fascination when he speaks, the rarity of it, allures me to sip off from his very essence, although nothing stains my lips, I swallow enthralled when the dim light radiates through my tongue and a flinch from emaciated wings is my reward. It tastes like something, anything , that I’ve never savored before. That cryptic, intangible, substance evokes a rapacious curiosity within, an unquenchable hankering for unwrapping the unknown with my teeth and saliva; to swallow him whole as I stand on my knees.
“You’re dirty.”
With my fingers I probe the sanctity concealed beneath armor and wrapping bandages. The silky tissue feels so warm as they loosen up between my touches, slightly, just enough to welcome my fingers. It’s almost unperceivable, but something so delicate presses against my fingertips and its dim glow envelops me. The angel reaches down and slender, clawed digits graze my scalp in search of purchase. By opening my mouth widely, his bucking hips rock against my face, teeth scraping the dark bandages as I dive further into his essence.
“Hunger.”
My tongue curls around the sudden texture weaving over it, velvety, yet so ethereal in contrast to my gluttonous muscle. It’s ambrosia, otherworldly and so heavenly. It wraps around me and I pull back dragging it into my mouth, where my lips encompass his heat. I can feel it wiggling in my cavity, hesitating, and when he withdraws I start suctioning, stopping him. Malthael tenses, cinereous wings raise above his shoulders and my eyes dart up, fixating the infinite abyss in his hood. Our gazes meet when a chill crawls up my spine to my face, pooling almost unbearably into my eyes. It freezes my pupils, searingly , and when I cup his resonance with my tongue in my mouth, that frostbitten sensation fades away.
“You’re voracious.”
The essence quivers when a low pitched rumble emits from the angel, it sounds like nothing I’ve heard before and leaves in me a pacifying sensation. Hollowing my cheeks, the resonance takes shape in my mouth, obediently, molding into a phallic form. A resemblance, not so approximate but thick and long enough for me. A reverie overcomes me when another deep, yet louder, rumble leaks from him and, bluntly, I drag my lips and tongue along his new appendage. Malthael elicits a gruff groan in response. Another tremor overwhelms him, making his wings jolt and hit the ground violently. Scratching the soil with the sharp, bony and tensed wing fingers.
As the dim essence grows in density, he hooks a lanky leg on my shoulder and it pushes me closer. Raising my hand, I deliver a gentle caress on that thigh while I start bobbing my head. Saliva polls in my mouth, coating him, mixing us both together as I notice how the light seems to bleed from his opening. Death rumbles once again, even louder than before, that alluring sound causing his armor to shiver and reverberate in my ribcage too. The clawed hand twitches on my head, sharp fingers digging into my scalp dangerously and drawing some blood droplets. I keep stimulating the resonance, sucking him deeply and steadily, from the base to the tip. Cutting our union with a wet, hungry, pop just to take him in again whole right after. Saliva rolls down my chin, making me look like a mess in front of his eyes, nonetheless, the angel appears to be pleased by my delirious appearance. Those narrow hips meet my swollen lips at a mesmerizing pace, while Malthael himself becomes a sight to behold, with his gaze fixating on the way his light is devoured and taken to the hilt. With those spreading wings ornamenting his obscure presence, a charming majestic display, manifesting an endearing emotion in my heart. He’s entranced, he’s delighted, he’s infatuated and so am I.
Witnessing Death's fervent pleasure makes me clench my insides, hoping to feel something, anything , in me soon. Fantasizing about how he feels, how his essence stretches me, like no terrenal man would ever do , seeing Malthael’s slender body between my legs and feeling the cold armor against my sweaty skin. A picture of those claws wrapping around my neck, long wings pinning my arms down, leaving my bare body vulnerable and exposed. Cold claws trailing down my body, scratching my skin and gracefully tracing my rippling muscles as I fall apart; as I become his . Reduced to behold in which ways the angel claims me, his looming figure dragging me down into a loop, where Death claims me over and over again until I forget my name. Until I’m nothing but an extension of his pleasure, until we merge and I finally feel replete.
Flickering visions of our pressed bodies, his deep voice rampaging into my ear, his light reaching each single fiber of my body and filling the deepests of the harbored corners within my flesh; within my soul. Where I shout his name to the very heavens above. Where I loosen myself in ecstasy each time Malthael’s thrusting hips collide against my frail body. Where an angel’s song suffuses throughout me with sensual harmony, both spirituality and mortality.
Where we become one.
He soon settles his other hand on my jaw, pressing my face against his crotch in what his new “member” forces its way into my throat. The strength is certainly unexpected and I wake up from a trance when the air stops flowing to my lungs. Instantly, I throw my hands up trying to push him away, clawing at his abdomen in vain, because he simply doesn’t stop . The pressure increases to an unbearable point between us, his raw strength throbbing against my skull, threatening me to crush my head as I inevitably choke around him. After what seemed an eternity, lingering between horror and despair; the angel pulled back. Releasing me and sliding his essence out from my mouth, withdrawing it into himself.
A pause follows.
I gasp for air, mouth agape, with teary eyes and observing the angel wondering if I should say something or not, since his unsettling silence makes him unpredictable. Did I do good? There’s something lascivious in the way his entire form quivers and evident restrainment when he closes his hands, clenching his fists and giving one step backwards. Sharp wings folded against his back, twitching and visibly spent. The angel peaked.
“Your gluttony is… Unappeasable .”
By saying those words, Malthael kneels down and brushes my lower lip with trembling fingers. The ghostly touch is so gentle, like a feather tenderly kissing me and I press my lips onto his palm when he opens his hand. When Death hums with an easily perceivable hint of content, not so quite hidden in his deep voice, I smirk back at him exhausted.
I did good.