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Before you’d even learned how to write your own name, you knew your position in the world well enough.
The needs of the many would always ultimately outweigh the good of the few. In times of great hardship, it was not uncommon for families in the lower classes to use their own daughters as a means to an end, their bodies and souls serving as a commodity to ensure the continued legacy of their people.
The pattern was something you grew to recognize. Year after year, different men would come from outside the clan’s walled borders, money and livestock would quietly change hands, and women would leave, one by one. Some of the women would write back to tell stories of their new-found lives outside the old stone walls; sharing news of their children and well-wishes for those they left behind, but most would not be heard from again.
You often found yourself wondering which category you’d eventually fall into as your own time neared. The moment you reached adulthood, a palpable sort of shift occurred.
No more did you get to enjoy the freedom of grubby knees and faux warfare won down by the mountain streams with sticks and mud, you were little less than fine silverware now, cleaned and shelved out of sight until useful. While the young men in the clan went on to pursue their desired trades or tend the nearby fields, you were instead kept to the stuffy confines of the main estate and annexes, made to await the time when you’d step foot outside those walls just as countless women before you had done so.
For the better half of a month, it had been impossible to ignore the quiet murmurs throughout the village; hushed talks that another man intended to pay a visit, a suitor preceded by a reputation for excessive violence and cruelty. An infamous and powerful sorcerer, or that’s what you’d heard. Credibility was hard to come by when the rumour mill was run by elders with too much time on their old hands.
As long as a sufficient dowry was provided, the clan heads would most certainly always turn the other cheek, anyway. Whichever woman he ended up deciding on, for their sake, you hoped such rumours were simply the product of unrelenting boredom, or should they be true, that death would come quick and painless to whoever had the misfortune of being chosen.
As you would come to find, those murmurs of speculation were hardly even a glimpse into the horrors that followed in the wake of Ryoumen Sukuna’s arrival.
There was no cordial welcome, no composed exchange of pleasantries and dowry - it was a massacre. The number of lives left spared could be counted with hardly a single hand. Distant cousins… Little siblings… Parents. Nearly a hundred innocent lives snuffed out and left out to rot atop the snow blanketing the earth, discarded across the red slush-packed ground like culled livestock.
For the first time in your life, the secluded village you’d once called home had fallen into a deafening silence you’d never known. It was as if even the wind itself had left the land, leaving behind only the stagnant scent of blood and flame.
It’s said that the name ‘Sukuna’ is derived from an old legend, a story telling of a ruthless demon who plagued the people of centuries past, and yet here he was; flesh and bone and inhuman. Not an old tale told to huddled groups of wide-eyed children, but a breathing, walking terror. It was undeniable from the first day you’d encountered him standing atop a bloodied snow bank within the heart of your ravaged village, exactly how that name had been earned.
To say the man was a monster would be true in every sense of the word. Blinking through hot tears, you’d assumed at first that you were seeing double, but no amount of rubbing at your eyes could help the second pair of arms vanish from beneath his blood-spattered hakama, or the extra set of piercing red eyes on his face.
The way he looked at you on that day is an image that will never leave your mind, teeth bared into a wicked sneer, and unnaturally pink hair eclipsed by a horrible red flurry. It would be the last day you’d ever see your village again.
Your fate had been sealed that snowy morning, and you found yourself assigned as Sukuna’s newest concubine - his only concubine. Judging by the dull mess of nail marks that decorated the door frame in your chambers, his prior guests had similarly shared in your unwillingness.
Gradually, days blended into weeks, and dense snow banks gave way to ebbing frosts. The passage of time was a difficult thing to determine now. Often the only indicators were found in the brief supervised moments you were permitted to be in the manicured gardens, providing you with a view of emerging icy blossoms and flighted birds that you envied in their freedom.
He kept you much like a bird, trapped within a beautifully gilded cage of spanning marbled halls and plush furnishings, lavish and wonderful. It was the idyllic picture of opulence, and you detested all of it, dreaming instead about the warm grassy scent of old tatami, and days of muddied knees in the riverbed.
In your grief, anger swiftly followed, like a white hot poker of wrath that sustained you each day until exhaustion would inevitably take its hold. Your rage made itself known in shredded tapestries, thrown offerings of food, and certainly more than one attempt to attack the servants. You would create enough reason for Sukuna to dispose of you, even if purely just for the inconvenience you posed to him.
But, it never came to be. Instead, the sorcerer seemed to have a perverse sort of fascination about your outbursts, and he made no efforts to conceal it. With each hate-driven act, you’d find the same casually enthused look painted across his stony features. The first time you’d seen Sukuna even crack a hint of a smile was the day you attempted to hurl a serving tray at his head. Death wouldn’t come even if you begged him for it with fists and teeth.
It was all little more than a game to him, these rebellions of yours. Looks were one thing, an easy commodity to come by for someone already with everything in his reach, but a fighting spirit was something far more covetous. There was a fire within you, a strength that he reveled in the idea of bringing down to ruin.
Despite all his usual lacking reservations about violence, and even in all your outbursts, you’d managed to remain at something of an impasse with the sorcerer since your arrival several months ago. He didn’t appear to have a desire to kill you, much to your dismay at times, though his frequent visits to your chambers could have led you to question otherwise.
Whether by deliberate choice or not, he seemed to only keep one concubine at a time. You came to know it yourself that Sukuna had developed a far-reaching reputation for his callousness and sadism, and his tastes in the bedroom certainly didn’t differ. It had taken only a short few days after your arrival for you to discover that, according to the hushed conversations between the servants, you’d managed to last the longest for him so far; something that brought you no ease.
Stirring in and out of a restless sleep, the hollow creak of the door told you well enough about who decided to pay you a late night visit. There was no question it was him; even the servants at least had the courtesy to knock. Shuffling yourself further beneath the mass of blankets, you intended to put on a show of being asleep, but the act wasn’t maintained for long.
Harshly dragging back the soft covers, Sukuna’s eyes bored down at your form under the amber cast of lantern light, sizing you up with a look you could only describe as hunger. No matter how much you tried to shake the feeling, every time his eyes were on you, it always felt as though there was an unsated appetite behind his gaze; something far more greedy and gnawing than lust.
He smelled of the rich spiced warmth of incense, but beneath it, his clothes still carried a subtle, but unmaskable scent of blood as they often did, the lingering odour making your stomach prickle. It was difficult not to find yourself imagining what he’d been doing before invading your chambers.
“Strip.” Sukuna’s voice resonated from the foot of the four-post bed, his tone even, almost soft. He scared you most when he was calm, and you knew well enough that it wasn’t an order, much less a request. It was a threat, a mutually shared understanding of the type of night you’d find yourself in for if you worked up the nerve to refuse him.
Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you stared him down beneath the warm amber lighting, eyes locking with his while you silently weighed your options. Shifting on the bed, your body was quick to remind you of the half healed blue-purple welts that still decorated your backside, a painful souvenir from your previous act of defiance.
Cooperation could mean he might leave your quarters sooner, if you were lucky. Leaning back against the plush mass of decorative pillows, trembling hands reached up to undo the ties of your night robes, working at the woven cotton bindings as slowly as you could manage. If you were going to cooperate, you could at least stall.
Seeing your obvious attempts to delay the process, it all happened before your awareness had even a chance to register it. Within fractions of a second, a quiet whistle of a sound brushed past your shoulder, and a flash of familiar color dropped in your periphery down onto the bedding below.
It wasn’t uncommon for Sukuna to utilize dismantle in moments like these, employing his own cursed technique to “encourage” your compliance, but this was the first time he’d used it on something other than the walls or furniture. Based on the small collection of severed strands that now lay limp on the sheets, he was daring for you to test his patience further. Hair would grow back, at least.
Swallowing back the pit in your stomach, you swiftly directed your focus back to the ties, hesitantly pulling them free before dragging the collar down the slope of your shoulders.
There was something oddly more humiliating about this than being undressed by his own hands. Maybe it was the feigned control you were being given, the illusion of autonomy over what would soon happen. Perhaps it was also partly from the four leering red eyes trained on your figure. An audience of one, all for you. With each new exposed section of skin, you felt another rush of heat blossom across your face. If Sukuna had taken notice of it, he hadn’t yet commented on it, at least.
Without looking up, you already knew he was watching, further evidenced by the low hum of approval as the top robe fell past the curve of your waist. Layer by layer, fabric bindings were removed and laid aside, leaving you nearly bare, save for the thin underclothing now serving as the final barrier between heated skin and the chilled night air.
Eyes narrowing to crimson slits, Sukuna gestured lazily with a clawed hand for you to continue while two others uncrossed and stretched themselves outward, gripping at the polished wood bedposts with an audible creak.
Leaning in closer, a small smirk pulled at his features as he caught a glimpse of the half-healed bites peppered along your upper thighs, a lasting result of his earlier handiwork. It was no secret who you belonged to, and yet Sukuna would still mark you all the same, your neck and thighs especially serving as a favored canvas for each bite and bruise he gifted to you.
Instinct had you reaching to tug down the hem of the cotton under-gown, but Sukuna quickly met you half-way, yanking your wrists away with an irritated click of his tongue. Ignoring your protests, the mattress sagged pitifully beneath the shifting weight as Sukuna’s body moved, now hovering over yours. The bed was massive, undoubtedly custom made for the brutal sorcerer himself, and yet he still somehow dwarfed its generous size.
Capturing both your hands in one of his, he trapped them harshly above your head, paying no mind to the way you hissed at the painful throb in your bones. Struggling against the aching stretch, you’d almost neglected to notice the other large hand now snaking its way expertly beneath the final thin layer of your clothing. Perhaps Sukuna was in a kinder mood than you initially thought, he rarely hesitated to simply tear away most of the things you wore, much to the quiet frustration of the servants.
Hot breath catching in your chest, you squirmed as rough fingers trailed upward to palm along the soft curve of your breasts; pinprick points teasing across your delicate skin just enough to have you gasping. Despite being perfectly capable of retracting his nails, Sukuna would almost always keep them tapered and sharp just for you, undoubtedly a deliberate choice in order to further blur the needle-thin line between pain and pleasure.
Despite the heat of his touch, chilled goosebumps seemed to blossom along every stretch of bare flesh he groped, drawing more heat to your face and core as he toyed with you beneath warm fingers.
Squirming at his ministrations, you yelped as a second large hand traveled up to the loosened bodice of your remaining clothing, harshly tearing the delicate silken fabric down to tattered ribbons before tossing the scraps carelessly to the floor.
Caged beneath Sukuna’s body, hungry eyes roamed over your now naked form while deft fingers forced more soft sounds out of you, coarsely pinching and twisting softened nipples into pert peaks between calloused digits. Pressing his palm flush with your breast, you stiffened, eyes widening in a quiet look of shock as a strangely warm, wet sensation made contact with the hardened nub.
Having manifested a mouth at the center of his hand, Sukuna grinned with wicked fascination as you writhed at the stimulation, the newly formed mouth swirling and suckling expertly around the sensitive bud with careful precision to draw more sounds from your body. You were a puzzle he’d long-since solved, and still he didn’t seem to tire playing with you.
Pleased at your responsiveness, he chuckled low in his throat, leaning closer to nip along the gentle curve of your neck. “Tonight you will take both, what do you think?” he mused, pointed teeth grazing just below the shell of your ear. All at once, it felt like ice had been driven through your veins. There was no need to ask to know what he’d meant.
The words themselves sounded more like a statement, rather than a question, another playful facade of choice. It had taken weeks to finally manage the aching stretch of taking one, but two? The thought alone made your insides twist in on themselves as more heat crept its way across your panicked face. Hands balling into trembling fists above your head, you watched with a hammering heart as Sukuna pulled back, using a free hand to deftly loosen the upper ties of his own hakama.
Shrugging the heavy top of the grey robe down with ease, his chest and stomach quickly became visible beneath the flickering light, thick muscles decorated with a mingling of solid black tattoos and deep scars. Even now, you’d still never worked up the courage to ask what the black markings meant or how he’d attained those permanent brandings, but perhaps it was better left as a mystery.
Swallowing, you quickly looked away, not pleased with yourself about how the sight made your heart pound. “I… I can’t”, you murmured quietly beneath him, unable to meet his gaze. Your thighs pressed together in quiet protest at the idea - fear, contempt, and arousal swirling into a potent, confusing mix within your core.
It had taken only a matter of days after your arrival to discover that Sukuna was large in all places. Even with no prior experience, it didn’t take an expert to know not only his size, but his particular anatomy, was nothing short of inhuman.
Plainly ignoring your protests, Sukuna’s free hand trailed down to squeeze at the plush warmth of one thigh, sharp nails nicking cruelly into the supple flesh. “You can, do not defy me. Now, spread”, he ordered, the impatience in his tone beginning to reach the surface. If there was any red remaining in his irises, you could no longer tell, rich crimson giving way to pure black.
While one hand continued working at your breast, one of the others gave one of the half-healed bite marks on your upper thigh a warning smack, dragging a quiet hiss from your throat. Using another free hand, Sukuna tugged harshly at the lower ties of his own clothing, enough to make the tented bulge beneath the loose fabric unmistakable.
Taking in a trembling breath, you were about to insist again when Sukuna’s lips captured your own in a heated kiss. Caught off guard, his mouth dominated yours while one of his unoccupied hands trailed the down length of your stomach, roaming over delicate skin with feather-light touches. In these brief moments of nearly human gentleness, you almost found yourself believing he was capable of something more than cruelty.
Sloppy and wet, your head buzzed from the warm, spiced flavour of his mouth, unable to suppress the soft moan that came out when his tongue slipped past your lips to lathe against your own, greedily drinking in your taste.
Squirming weakly for air beneath him, you were the first to pull back. Sukuna chuckled a little at the sight of your struggling, moving to instead pepper hot kisses and bites against your jugular, sharp canines hovering tauntingly over the fluttering warmth of your life force.
Lapping the warmth of his tongue against the quivering vein, rough fingers moved down to lightly circle around your navel, looking on with quiet amusement as you attempted to wriggle away from the teasing contact. Thighs clamped flush together, you couldn’t help but whimper as calloused fingerpads drew lower, edging dangerously close to your bare sex.
As expected, Sukuna took notice your resistance, slipping a large palm beneath to harshly fondle at the fat of your ass. “Spread, I’m growing tired of waiting”, glaring down at you, he made a point to dig his nails into the soft flesh, leaving a pattern of fresh scratches in their wake. Biting back a cry from the sudden pain, your thighs splayed apart, reflexively shying away from the flourishing sting in your backside.
Raking lust-blown pupils over your bare body, you couldn’t hold back the yelp that was forced out when Sukuna yanked your thighs even further apart, your face flush with embarrassment at the humiliating position he now held you in. Kneeling between your spread legs, the sorcerer released his third hand from your trapped wrists, though the relief of being undone from his hold only lasted a moment before rough fingers found their way between your thighs.
Finally retracting his pointed nails, you could only watch on in quiet panic as Sukuna dragged two thick digits along the length of your slicked folds, red eyes feasting on the sight of the way your body responded; your trembling hips canting into his touch despite yourself.
“Soaked for me already, hm? Adorable”, Sukuna cooed down at you, his voice thick with condescension as he drew his hand back, raising his fingers to greedily admire the gossamer strings of fluid suspended between them. It didn’t matter how much you denied him, your body betrayed you in spades.
Dipping lower again, he teasingly parted the softness of your folds and circled at your entrance before abruptly pulling away once more, blatantly relishing in the frustrated sounds that followed the sudden loss of stimulation. Holding your gaze, Sukuna lifted both fingers into his waiting mouth, making a show of suckling on the honeyed essence before withdrawing the digits with an audible ‘pop’.
Face flushing at the sight, you stiffened as Sukuna’s head dipped back down to lathe the warmth of his tongue along your bare chest, pulling an involuntary shiver through your body when saliva covered skin mingled with the chilled air. Trailing hungry kisses lower, sharp teeth teasingly grazed at the plush underside of your breasts, suckling greedy marks against the delicate skin while freed hands now kneaded into the supple flesh of your hips, roughly hoisting you into the position he desired.
Dragging your knees up to your shoulders, you had little time to protest at the uncomfortable stretch before Sukuna was presenting you with another of the unique bodily features you were already well-acquainted with. Nestled not much higher than the bulge between his thighs, the large slit across his abdomen gradually parted to give you an unbroken view of the slick pink tongue that lolled out, framed by an ivory perimeter of pointed teeth.
Grinning at the conflicted look of arousal and apprehension painted across your face, Sukuna’s lower tongue extended to drag its soaked warmth across the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing an involuntary whine from your throat at the teasing gesture.
“Such an expression, does my body not please you?” he mused, moving to slot his large form between your already spread thighs. “Down here certainly paints a different picture…” Sukuna continued in a low hum, emphasizing his point with a slow lathe of the large tongue’s flat surface along your soaked slit before drawing back to marvel with all four irises at the way your cunt helplessly clenched and fluttered around nothing.
Keeping your thighs caged to your chest, the thick appendage returned to swirl around the nub of your clit before dipping lower, toying slowly with the tight ring of muscle at your entrance. “Sukun..ah..!” you squirmed, and without warning the tongue pushed its way inside, contorting your face into a look of horrified pleasure at the wet intrusion.
“Do not suppress your noises, let me hear'', he ordered flatly before dropping his head back down, harshly suckling one of your pert nipples into his mouth while the lower muscle continued its own relentless work, fucking its way in and out of your velvet walls at a pace that made your head spin.
Kneading tough fingers into your thighs, Sukuna held you down in an iron grip, lapping the large tongue in methodical circles around your swollen clit before delving back inside with an amused grin at the unravelling state of your form beneath him. Normally you resisted him for much longer, had he really broken you so quickly?
As if like a mirror, the marbled chamber walls seemed to only reflect the cacophony of sounds being milked from your body, filling your ears with the obscene echoes of your own desperate mewls, and slick sloppy noises of the thick tongue exploring every plush ridge, which by now had turned your lower half and the sheets below into an obscene mess of saliva and your fluids.
Squirming against the soaked mess of bedding below, his crushing hold on your hips only tightened further, and you were sure that you’d definitely find newly blossoming bruises in the coming days. Finding what it was after, the tongue honed in on the spongy bundle tucked within your soaked cunt, and Sukuna hummed with approval as he felt your body involuntarily tighten around the slicked muscle.
Feeling it continue bullying that perfect spot, you gradually fell more pliant under him, losing whatever resolve that remained until you began to buck your hips into the thick appendage of your own accord, desperate to find release for the taut coil in your core. Face hot with shame, you couldn’t bear to view the scene, earning yourself a harsh smack to your thigh when Sukuna took notice that you’d turned your attention away.
Each time it felt as though the tension would finally come undone, the tongue’s movements would abruptly slow, keeping you perfectly teetering just along that edge of relief. Keenly aware of your growing frustration, Sukuna was all too happy to keep you from spilling over that ledge, thrusting the tongue along your g-spot before quickly drawing back with a mean chuckle.
It had taken less time than Sukuna had expected, but by now you’d all but entirely forgotten yourself, blinded by the focus on chasing down your climax. It should have felt more wrong, humiliating even, to be handled like this by your captor. But being brought to the edge like this, over and over again, was more than enough to have you on the verge of hysterics, whimpering and blinking back hot tears of frustration at the feeling of your release being stolen from you each time it was nearly within reach.
Deciding to be gracious, he resumed the same pace again, thick fingers coming down to add to the barrage of stimulation while he thumbed roughly against your clit in perfect time with each slick thrust of the lower tongue. Hit by the wall of your orgasm, the coil in your lower belly snapped, sending a flurry of white hot stars across your vision while Sukuna’s fingers continued bullying at your abused clit.
Crying at the unwanted stimulation, you were quickly silenced by a forceful shove of his fingers into your mouth, the taste letting you know they were the same ones he’d used on you. Sukuna cared little for how you almost choked around the sudden intrusion, speaking up only to offer a commanding ‘suck’.
Fighting the dangerous impulse to bite down, a mistake that easily could be your last, flushed cheeks hollowed out as you hesitantly worked to lick and suckle at the thick digits. Seemingly satisfied by your efforts, he drew back before carding large hands into the loose waistband of his remaining clothing.
Hakama pooling below his thighs, the first cock emerged with a noticeable twitch before the second followed suit. Even when erect, both hung heavily between his muscled thighs, flushed and already lazily drooling with beads of pre-cum from each uncut tip.
Using a hand to draw you up to your knees, you felt another find its way to the back of your head, rough fingers dragging you forward until your nose was put flush with the thick head of his upper erection. Taking the thick base in his hand, he offered a couple slow strokes of the first uncut length, only uttering a simple “open” as he tapped the leaking tip against your chin.
Swallowing thickly, you lifted a shaking hand to gather up some of the slick fluid before palming around the base of his first cock, trailing soft fingers along the defined vein that spanned down to the patch of that same pink hair. Eyes looking up to quietly gauge his reactions, you offered an experimental lick along the flushed slit, taking a small bit of pride in how it made the head twitch against your tongue.
Grimacing a little from the heady taste as you peppered more kitten licks to the flushed tip, Sukuna wasted no time using your parted lips to his advantage, grinning wickedly at the way you choked and squirmed when he suddenly forced the first few inches of himself into the warmth of your mouth.
"That’s it, good”, he murmured, silencing your muffled sounds with a slow roll of his hips. Guided down his length by clawed fingers, there was no chance to adjust before he began a heavy rhythm, fucking the first of his cocks into your throat until blinding stars rippled across your vision.
Hands weakly battering at his thighs in a frantic bid for air, he drew back just long enough for you to fill your lungs before another thrust had you full of him again, your cheeks and chin slick with a mess of spit and tears. “Use your tongue” he chided gruffly, sharp nails holding your jaw in place while he continued to rut himself forward, letting out a pleased groan as your throat fluttered and tightened around the intrusion.
Sukuna always seemed to take more pleasure in the obscenity of the act itself than any skill you might have, and with a final few ragged thrusts, his balls were twitching until they’d emptied themselves down your throat, leaving a sticky warmth in your belly while the other cock painted its contents across your breasts.
Slumping back onto the mattress in a daze, you coughed and fought to catch your breath, but the respite was short-lived. Kicking the discarded clothing away, Sukuna moved to kneel back onto the disheveled bed while calloused fingers wrapped around the first cock and then the second, gathering up the mix of pre-cum and spit into a slick mess along both lengths.
You must have looked nothing short of a mess by now, but Sukuna wholly preferred you this way, ruined and beautiful. “Wait, please, I’m not rea-” “silence” he interjected with a harsh pull at one of your ankles, dragging your body downward as if you weighed nothing to him.
To your slight relief, he didn’t seem to intend on fitting both yet, clawed hands yanking your thighs apart to position the thick head of one cock at your fluttering entrance. Pushing inch by inch into your swollen cunt, you whimpered, the earlier preparation from that monstrous tongue doing little to dull the terrible sting of being stretched so full.
“You take me wonderfully, my pet”, Sukuna cooed, looking down to watch with fascination as each inch of himself gradually disappeared into your waiting heat. Despite your better judgement, your body responded tenfold to the rare moment of praise in spite of your shame, slick walls pathetically twitching and drooling around his girth.
You wanted to sink away in embarrassment, and you half-received your wish, your body nearly submerging into the messy sea of bedding when Sukuna suddenly moved, the bed below creaking in a sickening groan as he used his generous weight to drive himself to the hilt in your cunt. Pain blurred with building pleasure, and you keened, your back arching freely off the bed.
Muffling a cry with your hand, Sukuna sharply swatted your wrist away, red irises narrowing in irritation. You knew better than to quiet your noises unless he demanded it, and your punishment was delivered when he came to a stop still fully sheathed within you, leaving you equally overwhelmed and understimulated all at once.
Squirming and frustrated, were left to do little more than cockwarm him at this point, the fullness of your lower belly coiling with an unsated heat. He was going to make you beg him to move, you knew it, but you beat him to it this time. “Please…! I’m sorry, please move…” you bleated out under him, your hands kneading restlessly at the sheets below.
“... Is that how you are to address me?” Sukuna questioned, giving you a chance to correct yourself. Brows furrowed in frustration, you tried again. “Please, my lord! Sukuna, please, I need it…” you murmured sheepishly, your voice hanging just above a whisper. The thought of having to beg to be fucked by your captor made you shrink in on yourself, your face hot with embarrassment - and he reveled in it.
Head cocking, Sukuna replied with only a short and shallow roll of his hips, his tongue clicking in dissatisfaction. “Pathetic. Louder”, he insisted, flashing pointed canines down at you, half angered, half entertained. In his own impatience, he nearly started to move on his own, but he resisted, intent on making a point to remind you who held the control. “Please, my lord - I need you!”, your face reddened further, it was as if your own voice didn’t even belong to you anymore.
Seemingly satisfied enough by that, you eased slightly when he drew back, but relief gave way instead to panic when you realized why he’d done so. Dipping a hand between your joined bodies, Sukuna took his neglected cock into his palm, using his lower mouth to gather a generous handful of saliva along his second girth.
Stroking himself, you squirmed in protest, your resistance sending another flicker of annoyance through him. “You will bear it”, he murmured, the second flushed head teasing at your already stretched entrance until the second tip joined the first. Aching couldn’t even come close to describing the stretch, and he seemed to suffer for it too, letting out a low groan as your walls clenched too-tightly around his lengths.
Pathetic as you felt for it, you whimpered openly, your expression contorted into a look that let him know you were suffering. On most occasions he would revel in such a thing, but now, something that looked almost like guilt flickered briefly across his face. “Hush, you are made for this, made to take me” he murmured, smoothing a rough hand along your hip.
When his hips experimentally canted forward, you nearly screamed, a fiery heat blossoming in your lower half. “S’too much, I can’t take it, pleas-!”, before you knew it, Sukuna’s lips had found yours again, shushing your cries with a firm kiss. Maybe it was only just to quiet you, but it was a welcomed distraction in the moment, your hands freeing themselves from the bedding to find purchase along the broad slope of his shoulders.
Sukuna normally took what he desired without hesitation, but tonight there was a strange gentleness stirring in his movements. He worked you open slowly, hips rolling in a lazy rhythm, seemingly helping you adjust to the burden of taking him wholly. He would never outright say he was doing it for your benefit, but it was strangely caring, all things considered.
When he finally hit that delicate bundle inside, the pain was all but entirely forgotten, or maybe you’d gone numb, you didn’t care for the details. Eyes pinned wide, Sukuna took notice, rutting his hips to drive himself into the same spot.
“Here, hm?”, he probed, and you could only firmly nod, your jaw falling slack with a string of curses when he bucked into you again. “Such a mouth”, he tutted gruffly, dropping to suck and bite a pattern of new marks along the soft curve of your throat. The chill of the room was a distant thought to you by now, warmed instead by the friction in every firm touch of his hands; in every languid thrust.
Already you were dangerously close to another orgasm when you felt an added sensation, the familiar drag of that lower tongue again, its slick warmth lathing against your clit in time with each of Sukuna’s building thrusts. You were practically delirious at this point, only after Sukuna hissed did you realize your hands had still been digging at his back, nails nicking hard enough at the tattooed flesh to draw blood.
“My lord, I’m going to…!” the words died in your throat when the mouth at his abdomen closed around your clit, sending a flurry of stars across your vision. “Then let go, come undone, pet. Come for me”, he crooned raggedly, and your body was all too quick to comply. Shaking with dry sobs, you felt your second orgasm of the night crash over you, washing every nerve in a cascade of lightning.
Blissful pleasure blended with the beginnings of overstimulation as he fucked you through your orgasm, but he made no moves to quiet your frantic cries, arrogantly hoping for any servant venturing near your chambers to overhear.
Nearing his own release, Sukuna’s movements became more rough and hurried, each thrust driving both cocks to the hilt in your swollen cunt. “So tight, so perfect…” he panted, the praise making your face throb with warmth. All at once, he stilled, the grip on your waist nearly crushing as he spilled himself into you with a pleased groan.
The remainder of the night was much a blur to you, but strangely, you had no recollection of him calling on the servants to attend to your needs. Half-conscious, you put up no protests when you felt the damp warmth of a cloth being run along your body, the hands holding it rough and unpracticed.
It was impossible to miss the hushed gossip of the servants the following morning, lowered voices retelling how he’d stormed into the serving quarters in the dead of night and scared two of them half to death, bellowing in demand of hot water and towels.
Perhaps today you would only aim a teacup at his head.