Work Text:
"I want to taste you~" Hector coo's through the vent. Watching your every move as you lay on the bed before him. Your legs had fallen apart, showing each personal detail off to him. He crawled out from the vent, making his way to the bed. Dragging his fingertips along the plush skin of your legs. Pressing kisses, starting from your ankle and making his way closer. Closer to where you needed him most. Closer to where he needed to taste you.
He takes you in his mouth as he finds himself comfortable between your legs. Having hoisted them over his shoulders as he buries his face in your heat. Licking a long strip up against you. Taking his time to savor you, like your his last meal he'd ever had. As if he'd never get a taste of you again.
In reality he's sitting in one of the vents, lost in his own imagination as he pleasures himself to the thought of you. He'd managed to get ahold of a pair of your dirty underwear that had fallen near one of the vents when you went to do laundry. You must of dropped it so near one of his vents on purpose he thought.
As he devours you his hands roam as much of your body as possible. Pawing and squeezing at your skin. Kneading it as if you are clay and he the artist. Taking every curve, every bump and imperfection to memory. As to him you are perfection, and every part of you deserved to be loved and cherished.
The way your hips jolt whenever he laps at a sensitive area only begs him on more. After taking his time to find every single spot that makes your skin crawl with pleasure, he chose to focus on those spots alone. A hand snaking its way in between your legs as he sinks his fingers in to you. Rubbing at the spot that causes your walls to flutter around him as he gently licks and sucks at the bundle of nerves that rest above.
As he imagines bringing you closer to your release, he finds himself feeling close to his own. He sits awkwardly in the vent, hand on his cock as he pumps in pace with how he imagines he'd pump his fingers inside of you. Your undergarment residing in his mouth as he try's to taste as much of you from that that he can. The taste of your presence mixed with the cotton driving him nearly insane. He wishes so dearly that he could taste you directly, but he's simply not ready for that moment.
His movements grow quicker as your voice rings through his mind. Previous memories of your voice echoing through the vents egging him on. He tried so hard to not listen, to give you your own privacy. But after so many times it felt as if you did so on purpose. As if you wanted him to hear how wonderful you sound as you climax.
And with that thought, his hips stutter involuntarily as he reaches his own climax. Muffled whines held back from the fabric you once wore being in his mouth. He felt so complete, yet so filthy at the same time. 'They wanted me to do this, it was a gift from them I'm sure of it.' He convinces himself.