Alastor's microphone dropped from his fingers, but the thud of it falling to the floor never came- Not that she could have heard it through the thick foam of the headphones sitting heavily over her ears. Still, she expected at least a screech to come through if it was still life, but the only change in the sentimental symphony was the softest of statics as Alastor rose to his feet.
"Alastor, wha-"
Clover's quiet questioning was quickly cut off by the soft set of claws that pressed to her lips, dragging through the soft stain of blood that flushed them red to cup her chin once he was sure she'd stay silent. His touch spread fire from his fingertips to roll down her spine, and her sputtering breath was swiftly stolen by sharp teeth. Alastor did much more than kiss her now, he devoured her, his lips moving so fiercely against hers they were sure to bruise. Her legs parted as he slipped a hand beneath her knee and tugged her closer to the edge, welcoming him between her thighs while his hands began to wander. Claws caught on the delicate fabric of her dress as they raked up her thighs, bunching it around her waist before his palm pressed flat to her spine to keep her from tumbling back into the console as they seamlessly slot together. The thumb at her throat tilted her chin back as he continued to ravage her, his tongue tasting the blood that lingered on her lips and testing the tiny points of her teeth as it boldly explored her mouth; He hummed at the sweetness that clung to her tongue, kept from cloying at his more savory tastes by the bitter bite of their morning brew.
Clover's fingertips strained to brace herself, barely brushing the wood beneath her as Alastor arched her up against him, and gripping into his shoulder to remain grounded. Every sense she had was overwhelmed by him; Her ears were helpless under the headphones, unable to hear how loudly the sounds that vibrated in her chest truly were over the music that continued to play behind the scenes.
"Everybody loves somebody sometime, and although my dream was overdue…
Your love made it well worth waiting…
For someone like you… "
Her lungs screamed for air long before either of them was ready to part, but Alastor chased her kiss as she went to pull away. His breath huffed against her for the mere second their lips parted, his teeth nipping at the swell of her lip as she whined alongside the static that filtered into the frequency. Hands scrambled for purchase as he ground against her and her palm made contact with the desk beneath, giving just enough leverage to tangle her fingers into the short crop of hair at the back of his neck and pull. The air around her rattled as she struggled to breathe, shaking the drawers in the desk and sending the needle scratching along the record until it stopped.
Alastor's lips formed words against her throat from where he'd moved to press heated kisses against her skin, curses she could barely make out, and it was with visible regret that he steadied them both before stepping away. Even dampened, the sound of his shoes sent a shudder through her as he stalked back to his cabinet, his fingers flying over the records within before he plucked one from its sleeve. Clover wasn't sure if it was the lack of oxygen to her lungs that blurred his trip back to her into one fluid footstep or something more, but she didn't have much time to think before her gasping breath alerted her to the sweetness cutting through the scent of blood- It was fresh like spring flowers, but with a lush depth that stung against her senses in the most sentimental of ways, reminding her immediately of stone fruit, ripened in sunshine, and as she turned to look at Alastor, she knew exactly why it felt so familiar.
It was her.
Another record began, a sweet melody that Clover could barely hear over the rush of blood that filled her ears as she took in the state of the man standing in front of her. He was panting, mouth open to reveal that black tongue peeking between his teeth as his chest heaved, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed down the scent of her like a dying man did water. It was obvious to anyone who'd heard it that the broadcast had riled him up, the Radio Demon releasing the full splendor of his persona upon them all with practiced ease, and her involvement had made it so much more; She'd seen it as he spoke, heard the rough edge to his voice and felt the purpose of which he'd touched her skin but she hadn't expected this. It was as if the room's tone had changed in an instant, too quickly for Clover to sample before he'd descended upon her with the full weight of his desire.
Perhaps she deserved partial blame- It was her scent that was soaking the room, after all.
The thrill of seeing Alastor in action from the front row had taken its effect upon her, but she'd been blinded by how brightly he burned when in his element; But now that her attention had shifted, it was unmistakable. Clover was held upright by the tension alone, the threads woven between their souls pulled painfully taut with every flick of the blown-out black eyes over the mess he'd made of her- And he'd only just begun. She squirmed subconsciously under his scrutiny, her thighs shifting together in search of the tiniest touch of friction before she caught herself and quickly smoothed her skirts back into their proper place.
Again, his hand caught her wrist, holding her captive from her decency as Alastor gave another thoughtful glance towards his soundboard. Happy that everything seemed to be in working order, Alastor nudged one of the headphone's pads from her ear as that crooked smile appeared, and he chuckled at the breathless little noise it pulled from her throat before leaning into her ear.
"Darling-" His breath raised goosebumps across her shoulders, his lips brushing the thin skin along the underside of her jaw while he waited for her response; All she managed was a daze hum as his teeth nipped a reminder at her throat, but that seemed to be enough to assure him he had her attention. "I have been thinking about what you did for me this morning."
Clover's brow furrowed as she fought against the fuzz filling her mind to remember what exactly she could have done for him that could be important at this moment- Then she wet her lips to ask, catching his skin as it dragged across her bottom lip, and Alastor's breathing falters. His radio rapidly switches stations, garbling words and phrases together in a confusing mess that never quite reaches the broadcast; The frequency fizzles for a moment but stays strong. It's a reassuring display of Alastor's power, a reinforcement that her decency was well kept within these walls- Even if his expression is anything but.
The way he's looking at her mouth is ravenous; Pupils narrowed to pinpoints watch with rapt attention as he presses into the soft swell of her lips, so close to slipping his thumb between them as they part that she swears she can taste him on her tongue. His eyes dart up to hers, his brow twitching upward as the fuse of recognition flips and sends sparks straight down her spine; She knows exactly what he's talking about.
His throat bobs nervously before he asks, and if Clover's heart hadn't been pounding against her ribcage, she's sure it would have turned to liquid with the rest of her.
"May I-"
"Yes!" Her heedless reply startles him out of his shyness, Alastor's grin growing wider as he leans forward to bump his forehead with hers- Damn him for gaining sexual confidence so quickly, it was putting him at an incredibly unfair advantage. It was entirely her fault, she knew it was, but she hoped that Alastor wasn't biting off more than he was prepared to chew. Clover clears her throat of the timid tremble that shakes her voice, her hands coming to cradle his face as she pulls him back to check-in. "Do you- Do you want to?"
"Yes. It feels appropriate, almost- An act of worship," Alastor hums, the ghost of a kiss lingering between their lips. "And I can think of no one else divine enough to deserve such a thing."
The whimper she lets out at his words is muffled by another kiss, but this one is slower, more patient than the last- He's giving her time to think. Clover huffs a laugh at the thought; Alastor's consideration was sweet, but it was foolish to think that she would ever say no to an offer like that coming from him- Yet on the other hand, she had denied him before, for something that felt just as personal, so perhaps his trepidation was warranted. In any case, he was selling this pitch with far more enthusiasm than the last, and Clover wasn't going to argue with what he was, quite literally, putting on the table.
"Oh-" Clover breathes as the kiss breaks, and her mind fogs further as she inhales the smell of his scent mingling with her own. Swallowing down her insecurity alongside the dampness welling on her tongue at the sinful mixture of sugar and spice, Clover releases a slow, soothing exhale between them and gives him the answer he'd been waiting for. "Okay."
The words had barely left her lips before she was silenced with the sweetest of kisses, surprisingly gentle despite the tension of his jaw beneath her fingers. Alastor was vibrating with anticipation, his body pulled taut with restraint, and every breath laced with bellowing static that sank between her thighs; All that bled together into an overwhelming sensation of desperation that thickened the air between them as Alastor's hand crept up her throat.
The last sound she hears is the steadying breath he takes before he slides her headphones back into place.
Her eyes widen as realization sinks in, her heart rate pushing itself into a sprint as she looks between Alastor and the console- He can't possibly be planning to do this here, next to a microphone, of all places. She's quickly proved wrong by one of those devilish hands making its way beneath her skirt, his fingers slowly skimming along the edge of the incredibly delicate lace that decorated her hips before they gripped into her and tugged her thighs to spill over the desk's edge.
Quickly she covers her mouth to hide her surprised squeak, her ears straining to listen for any change, but there is nothing besides the uninterrupted soulful, sultry jazz he'd chosen to play.
Gentle kisses pry her fingers away, Alastor's teeth nipping at the skin of her wrist as he trails that awfully convincing mouth of his up her arm to linger on the junction of her neck, his tongue tracing the marks of passion he'd left behind. Nimble fingers move to the bow at her breast, revealing more of her willing flesh as he unties its ribbon with a single tug. He covers every inch of her skin with kisses, lingering on the places that make her breathing hitch; When she groans at the drag of his teeth against the purple splotches that decorate her collar, he gently bites into the aching flesh to revel in the pleading pitch of her voice and sucks at her skin when her hips twitch at the sinful blend of soreness and sensuality. Those marks would last for weeks at this rate, and Clover couldn't bring herself to care- She'd wear them proudly for the world to see, a collar of contusions marking her as his mate.
An arm winds its way around her waist and lifts her from the surface to shimmy her undergarments down her hips, and Clover burns in embarrassment at the obvious slick sticking the silk to her skin. She can feel Alastor shake with a low chuckle as she hides her face in the crook of his neck, her paramour turning his head to give her temple a tender kiss before he parts to pull the offending garment down her legs. The shy press of her knees together stalls his hands, and in their stillness, Clover can see the slightest of tremors in them as they hover at the hem of her dress. Alastor bows into her line of sight, following the nervous glance she sends the microphone; It had been shoved to the far corners of the desk in their passions and toppled over, rocking comically on its side to the rhythm of the rolling record. His claws catch her chin, gripping just tight enough to bring her nervous mind to a screeching halt as he pulls her back to him, his knuckles brushing the flush of her cheeks as he mouths a phrase that soothes her seamlessly despite its simplicity.
"Trust me,"
Beckoned to the altar with a nod of her head, Alastor falls to his knees before her.
Blackened fingers curl around her calves as he presses a kiss to her knee, guiding her open for him but not daring to rush her; Their weight is a welcome distraction from the embarrassment pooling in her stomach, the anxious ichor laying thick over her lust like oil as his hands slide up her thighs to draw back the curtain of her dress. Clover obediently takes the fabric from him and gathers it in her hand, the other gripping the edge of his desk so tightly it's only a matter of time before it splinters as she swallows her nerves and spreads her legs.
Even if Clover cannot hear his trembling sigh, she can feel it as it blows across her. His breath scalds her thighs yet catches cooly on the dampness gathered between them in a confusing mess of sensation that squeezes her eyes shut. Neither of them moved for a moment that dragged on into eternity, the flexing of his fingers as they gripped her thighs and the unsteady breathing blowing maddeningly across her heated skin the only sign that he'd not retreated.
A sharp edge of claws flutters her eyes open, Clover peering curiously down at him from behind the veil of her lashes, and she nearly swooned at the sight of him.
Alastor's eyes shifted back and forth between a look of insatiable lust and attentive, awestruck introspection, his pupils blown wide to take in every detail of her form; Both expressions were equally wanting, and it brought the dull, hollow ache that had been building in her to a crescendo. The sight of him knelt between her legs so reverently, licking his chops like a beast while looking at her as if she was the eighth sin herself- It's almost too much.
Clover whispers his name and his attention snaps to hers, the strawberry red of his eyes dripping with dark chocolate as the colors swirl before they're swallowed by the black depth of dilating pupils. His gaze does not waver as he leans in and presses a kiss to the top of her thigh, his lips mouthing devotion against her skin as they travel upward to honor the dark reminders of desire that decorate the insides of her thighs. Her body trembles as his breath ghosts over her again, blowing hot against her core as Alastor timidly grasps the back of her knee and shifts it up towards her chest so he can better reach the bruises.
Clover yelps as he bites down on the meat of her thigh, and the laughter shaking his shoulders makes the apologetic kiss he leaves behind feel incredibly dishonest- As does the glide of his tongue over the wound as it begins to weep.
The longer he stalls, the more desperate she becomes; Every touch is a reminder that his mouth has been everywhere except where she needs it, and it's slowly driving her to madness. It presses against the soft swell of her stomach, his searing kisses sinking lower between her legs with such precision she's sure he'd finally decided to do the damn thing and grant her some semblance of relief- Until he swerves off course and returns his tongue, that dark, dextrous and deceitful tongue, to the bite on her thigh to lap at the beading scarlet that had attempted to waste itself into the carpet below.
She'd called him a tease and he took that to heart, the bastard, Clover cursed inwardly, resisting the urge to roll her hips as another puff of breath sweltered against her skin. She's wound too tight to chastise him for it now, even if she tried to speak she doubted it would make any semblance of sense, but he's so close that she can't stand to sit silently for a moment longer.
His eyes flick up to hers as she whines between bitten lips, and Alastor hums curiously, seeming entirely unbothered by her squirming as the vibrations dance across aching nerves. The curl of his lips is barely hidden from where they're pressed into her skin, his smirk quickly switching into a coy smile as he turns his cheek to rest against her knee and raises a brow inquisitively.
"Please-"
The broadcast breaks with a squall of static so fierce it rattles her teeth, Clover wincing as the frequency spikes and sputters but never stops. It makes her see spots, her head swimming as Alastor runs frantic claws through his hair to comb it out of his way before hooking her knee over his arm and spreading her further to accommodate wide shoulders. Dark eyes funnel back to crimson as his pupils narrow to pinpoints beneath heavy lids, boring into her soul as they trail down the heaving expanse of her chest, lingering on the white-knuckled grasp she had on her dress before they fall between her legs- He's blushing, Clover notices, watching as his bravado crumbles with a harsh bob of his throat and a timid flick of his ears. A dark tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks her over, an absentminded movement that hitches her breath and spreads fire across her skin. He's mumbling something to himself, not that Clover is of any mind to attempt to read his lips; All she can tell is that it must be something utterly debauched for it to twitch his ears away from the sound so violently, pushing them further back atop his head with every rendition of his blasphemous prayer. A gentle downward swipe of his thumb as it traces the crease of her thigh is enough to send a tremble down to her toes, Alastor strumming strings wound tight enough to snap under the slightest of pressure as he pulls her folds open to marvel at the mess she'd become.
When he leans in to lay a timid swipe of his tongue across the length of her slit, the sound Clover makes is so broken, so desperate that it leaves her throat ragged in its wake- And it takes every fragile thread of control Alastor as left not to devour her then and there.
Her hips press forward, straining after the fleeting brush of his tongue across her clit, and he presses back, tossing her leg over his shoulder and laying heavy palms against her hips with a predatory growl that vibrates deep into her core. No amount of squirming grants her the leverage to push back against him, her hands too occupied with keeping her upright and open for him to aid her plight- The crinkle of his eyes as they look up at her from between her thighs is enough to make the message clear, and the slow drag of the broad of his tongue is the molten wax that seals it; Alastor has her exactly where he wants her, a pliant, helpless and willing victim to his wicked mouth as it ravages her cunt.
Where Alastor lacks in experience, he makes up in part with his pure, unrelenting enthusiasm, and the rest with his keen ability to read her like an open book- One written in bold Helvetica, held under a microscope-
With an audiobook accompaniment.
How did she ever manage to be this lucky?
A desperate keen draws his attention back to that neglected bundle of nerves, Alastor humming thoughtfully as her breath catches at the first sign of friction against it. She can feel him smile against her, a flash of teeth teasing her sensitive flesh before he returns to lapping at her entrance, and another rattling groan sends static dancing across her nerves as his tongue slips shallowly inside. Alastor tastes her like she's the sweetest fruit, every tiny sound he makes shooting straight to her core as he presses further against her to drive his tongue impossibly deeper to draw out more of her juices. Glassy eyes glimmer just above the water's metaphorical surface, reflecting the warm glow of halogen as he drowns in her, and when he resurfaces, his chest heaving as he draws breath between bared teeth, Clover can't help the pathetic, pleading whine that escapes her. His mouth glistens with her arousal, painting flushed lips with a glossy sheen that disappears with a swipe of his tongue and drips down his chin- Dark fingers drag across his face, catching all that he can so he can lick them clean of it.
Clover whimpers, open and wanton, despite herself as he drags his tongue across his lips, and then again as Alastor carefully pushes his sleeves to his elbows with an authority that has her clenching around nothing, reminding her of how painfully under-stimulated she was. Embarrassment burns brightly, but it is nothing compared to the white-hot ache that overwhelms her every nerve, rendering her mind useless to ponder how ridiculously wet he'd gotten her with a few heated kisses- The image of Alastor spread out beneath her, hips twitching and his static laced with needy sighs as she swallows around his length crashes down onto her, followed swiftly by the duo of his heels kicked up on his desk as he regales the masses with her accomplishments and the image of him in this very moment, knelt between her legs, looking at her like he'd like nothing more than to eat her alive and licking her arousal from his lips. It's a wonder she hasn't grabbed him by the antlers and dragged him back by now, and who would blame her if she did?
It's tempting, but before she has a chance to make up her mind on the matter, it's rendered blank by Alastor once again.
His fingers sink into her in a single motion, burying themselves to the knuckles, and Clover nearly collapses; Her hands slam to the table top, hanging on for life itself as her back arches at his touch and her hips cant forward for more -She's so sensitive, every drag of his fingers across her skin lingering on the precipice of overstimulation, but the resulting sensation is so raw, so erotic in the most carnal, untamed sense of the word that its almost addictive. His touch leaves her for one agonizing moment and she sobs at the loss, but the sound breaks as his fingers slide across that swollen bundle of nerves that makes her sing, circling it with feather-light touches until she's reduced to a whining mess of shaking legs.
Alastor is talking again, she realizes; The sound is distant, calling her back to the water's surface with the sweet promise of praise while his touch drags her down to drown in the depths of her desire. Nerves burst into flame, every atom of her being screaming- More, more, more, please- Then he stops, and just when she's ready to damn him to double-hell, Alastor leans up, slips the headphone to rest around her neck, and slams his lips into hers as his fingers sink into her again and set a languid pace. The sudden addition to the onslaught of sensation is nearly too much after so long spent without, and Clover shrinks back shyly as the wet sounds of sex grow louder at the addition of audio stimulation. Her mouth falls slack against his as he shifts to grip the back of her neck, his fingers accidentally curling against a spot inside of her that stalls her breath, and Alastor slows, stroking her walls with purpose until her head falls against his shoulder, her toes curling as he winds the tension in her stomach impossibly tighter.
"Fuck-"
His fingers tangle into her hair and pull, leveling her eyes to his as his lips curl into a delighted smile.
"There?"
The question is punctuated with a slow grind of his fingers inside of her, and set into bolded italics by the press of his thumb just shy of where she needs it. Clover barely manages to nod her head against the strength of his grip and mumble a dreamy affirmative between the breathless noises he pulls from her with every thrust of his fingers.
"Is it too much for you darling? If you're too sore, then perhaps we should s-"
"Don't you dare stop now," Clover pleads, eyes welling with desperation; He never lets up on stroking her despite the hollow threat, but now that she'd managed to speak, there's nothing stopping her honesty from running rampant for the sake of her release. "I'm- Sensitive, but too wet for it to hurt, just- Please, don't stop!"
Alastor chides her with a dark chuckle, tilting her head to kiss her more deeply as his teeth beg her lips to part, pressing into her with the same hunger he'd had for her cunt and coating her tongue in her taste. They part with a wet "smack" that burns her cheeks, her lips slick with saliva as they press together to hold back a whimper as Alastor's fingers stall inside of her.
Clover's eyes flutter open at the sound of shifting fabric, looking down to find Alastor gathering her dress from where she'd dropped it across her lap into his fist.
"Hold that out of the way for me, will you?" Alastor's voice is far too casual as he passes her skirt over to her feeble fingers and pushes her arm up until she's bare to him again, pausing to make sure it would not slip from her grasp. His eyes linger on the wet glisten that coats her thighs and his gaze grows heavy as it passes over her aching core; It never leaves as he pulls his fingers from her and spreads her open, watching how she twitches for him when he speaks-
"Good girl."
There was barely time to revel in the rough, husky tone of his voice before his fingers sank into her again and granted her the friction she so desperately needed. Her posture folds as they pound into her, soft curves rippling under his strength as he fills her over and over again, allowing her body to guide him deeper with every clench of her walls while he marvels at her a moment longer. She's trembling, her legs struggling with all of her strength to keep herself spread wide, offering every inch of her aching cunt up to his eager hands as her head falls back in ecstasy; The ethereal maiden, laid out across her pedestal in sacrifice to the creature that lurks in the shadows.
Alastor's mind clouds with the thickness of her arousal, its scent sticking to the facets of his mind like syrup; It locks them together, man and beast crashing into each other as curiosity turns carnal. The urge to please her pools in his gut, every whine and whimper steadily pushing its simmering towards a steady boil as sweat rolls in ripples down his spine- It's nothing compared to the sweet, sadistic satisfaction of watching her reduce down to nothing but a mindless doll, porcelain and pliant, sounding like pure sin as she begs him to break her. He crashes into another kiss with a heady sigh, whispering devotion against her lips as she fists those wonderfully dainty fingers into his sweater and lays her forehead against his, and the sentimental gesture is almost enough to convince him to hitch her thighs around his hips and take her now- He'd already wandered this far down the dark path of degeneracy, drooling over her nude form like a dog and imagining what other interesting positions he could push those limber legs of hers into, but he'd be damned further if he did not make the most of his newfound interest in intimacy. Even with his rut hovering over his shoulder like the fiend it was, she'd granted him clarity by lessening its hold over him and unknowingly unshackled an untried faction of his fascination with her; With desire comes discovery, and Alastor is hell-bent, pun intended, on learning the finer points of her pleasure.
The human body is no stranger to a man such as Alastor, he'd taken apart many people before her, but none of them were anything quite like this- Her body was far more fascinating with its flesh intact, and her heart still seated safely inside her chest. While the rhythm of his victim's pulse was often regarded as the ticking of a clock, counting down the seconds before his fun was over and knife rendered useless, Clover's was another instrument to master.- His arsenal of talents was missing an element of percussion, Alastor mused. It throbbed beneath his ministrations, pushing her blood to pool and paint her skin a charming shade of scarlet, from the tips of her ears down to the soaking, swollen skin between her thighs- Alastor wasn't aware a person could flush in such places, and he found this discovery absolutely thrilling. It made sense, scientifically. Roughly ten units of blood resided within the human body at any given moment, but Alastor had never paid much attention to how that blood behaved when it was not staining his best coat or spilling from the throat of whatever unlucky bastard had tested his patience- Not until he'd met her, at least.
The pale skin spread out before him was backlit with its rushing red, leaking from broken capillaries and pooling purple in the hollow of her throat, the divots of her hips, the soft expanse of her thighs, as if her very soul clung to the reminders of his touch; It only amplifies the ineffability of her beauty, bringing focus to the blushing rose of her lips and the soft curves of her form. Even the slowly clotting blood filling the divots of his teeth shine like the finest jewel, pretty rubies dripping along the delightful curve of her legs.
Alastor had been right in his ravings, she was radiant when painted in blood, but she'd put the picture in a different perspective, as she always did.
The thought had his teeth tugging at her lips, seeking another taste of the nectar that ran through her veins- Then she bit back, and all hope of holding back the beast buried itself inside of her with a curl of his fingers and a broken cry of his name. No sooner had her blood coated his tongue that it was crushed by the supple flavor of her sex as Alastor dropped back between her thighs and laid his tongue across her heated skin, lapping at her with different patterns and pressures until he found the one that made her voice shift into that breathless, needy pitch that set his soul aflame.
Clover's body jolts at the sudden pressure as his lips seal around her, his tongue whipping like hellfire across her swollen nerves with uncanny precision. Hands grapple for something, anything to ground her as he steadily pushes her towards oblivion, flexing around the wrinkled mass of her dress before it slips from her grasp- Alastor groans against her as her free hand finds his hair, her fingers catching the stray strands that had fallen forward and lacing themselves into the slicked-back mess of it that sits between his ears. Dark claws curl around her thigh as her cries increase in frequency, -More, please, she needs more- holding her hostage to the torture of his tongue as her hips struggle to grind back against the slow push and pull of his fingers inside of her. Through the blurred, shortened focal length of her vision, Clover gazes down upon him, hoping to catch a glimpse of what wonderful expressions he might make in this newfound position; She lingers on the artful furrow of his brow, watching as his eyes flutter and roll as her grip tightens to tug him closer, the chiseled curve of his nose leading the drag of his tongue as he licks another broad stripe across her cunt before returning to circling her clit in familiar, tight circles that twist the tension in her stomach tighter with every turn.
Sweat sticks silk to her skin as Clover clings to the edge, willing herself to tumble over with every stroke of his tongue but unable to let go despite the desperation that pours from her lips. Her muscles tremble, held taught by that unyielding knot in her stomach that winds itself around her ribcage, crowding around her lungs and rendering her incapable of any breath - Harder, please, she's so close- besides what she manages to draw between her broken, pitiful pleading; And all the while he watches her, his eyes misty, utterly intoxicated under the thrall of her desire and glowing like floodlights, keeping her keenly lit at center stage while she unraveled.
The world shifts to white as a final flick of his tongue sends her careening over the edge, her orgasm cresting over her and dragging her down to be swept away by the undertows of overstimulation. A shrill ring fills her ears as she rides out the release, Clover crying out a broken rendition of his name as all grasp on rationality slips through her shaking fingers and he does not stop. Her body quivers, doubling over itself as she grips his antlers for some sense of stability as Alastor groans against her, the sound stuttering her racing heart just long enough for Clover to suck in a well-needed breath. It fills her lungs with the thick scent of desire, the potency of their pheromones coating her throat as it strains through another desperate whine.
"Alastor, I can't- I need-" Clover begs, though she's entirely unsure of what exactly she's asking for; Every stroke of his tongue draws that ache back to the surface, yet her nerves scream out against the onslaught of sensation. "Alastor, please."
Prying her heavy lids apart to look down upon him through the distortion of welling tears, Clover is suddenly doubtful that he even could be convinced to stop now. Alastor devours her with determination, pressed so closely against her she wonders how he breathes, one set of claws splayed out across her stomach while the other curls relentlessly against that spongey set of nerves inside of her with every shallow thrust, and despite the benefit of his efforts being for her pleasure alone, Alastor's expression is that of utter euphoria. His brow arches upward, drawing together to push those little lines into his forehead and his eyes glaze over as they gaze up at her from beneath lowered lids.
Another tug of his antlers sends static rippling across the room, the sound so guttural it's nearly human as it surrounds her, seeming to come from within them both, and it sends another orgasm crashing into Clover without warning. The release is so sudden the pleasure teeters on the border of pain, its intensity rocking her body with tremors and leaving her sobbing through every aftershock as he keeps her at her high with his merciless mouth. Warmth floods her limbs as they lock around him, and only then does he finally relent. His fingers still inside her, held tight by the tension of her muscles and waiting until her legs slip from his shoulders to remove themselves; The slick sound as he slips them from her sends heat rolling down his spine, but Alastor pushes back his need for the time being.
"Darling?" The softness of his voice barely registers behind the fog of ecstasy that had settled over her, a candle on the water calling her back to shore. She teeters slightly as he pulls her hands from his hair, her still-shaking fingers falling to her lap as he shifts her back to sit more steadily. The slide of the drawer beside her opening barely lifts her ear, and Alastor quickly cleans his hands the best he can with the cloth he'd fetched from it before taking her face between them. "Clover, dear, can you tell me if you're alright?"
"I'm fine."
Clover's voice is little more than a creak, too exhausted to give her gentle giggle its normal vivacity as her head drops against his waiting hand. His skin is almost cool against the heat of her cheeks, and Alastor chuckles as she turns to hide her face.
"Forgive me if I was- "A lot", as you so aptly put it."
"Honey, it's okay," Pausing the gentle kisses she'd begun to press against his palm to pull him closer, Clover leaned forward to press her forehead to his. She ignored the embarrassing flavor of herself in favor of dusting his face with reassuring kisses, paying special attention to the crinkle of his eyes as he laughed and nuzzling their noses once she'd finished. "That was- Good. Really, really good."
She'd have slapped herself if she had the energy to, but luckily, Alastor was not discouraged by her lackluster review of his performance.
"Good?" Alastor purred, his smile growing sharper with a thoughtful tilt of his head.
Clover knew she'd made a grave error the second the question left his lips.
The room shimmered with green light as he stood, and Clover's breathing caught in her chest as Alastor tucked his arms beneath her and lifted her from his desk, ignoring her sputtering as he gave his still-smoothly running soundboard a fleeting glance and turned sharply on his heel towards the door; It swung open without a sound, stopping just short of banging into the wall behind it.
"I think-" Alastor's lips dropped to brush against her ear, and his voice caught on that echoing, hollow quality of radio interference as he carried her across the threshold of his studio and out into the crimson-tinted corridor, cradled so closely to his chest she could feel the racing of his heart. "That we can do much better than that."