[ Zhongli wishes it were true, that all the things he was attempting to hide didn't exist, that he truly was not utterly and completely taken with this man. He's all too aware of the other's gaze and where it's gone, feeling the heat in his cheeks burn as hot as the rest of his body encased in this fire of passion.
If he could stop this on his own, he would, not because he dislikes it but because he loves the feeling far too much. It's addicting, and Zhongli hella it shouldn't be. Being pounded into by a person with an incredible cock... it's brutal pleasure that he can't begin to describe, somehow he can only attribute to humans being capable of producing in such mind-numbing doses.
His pants and moans are shallow and desperate pleas in their own right, begging for more, enamored by the sight of the bulge in his stomach demonstrating how far inside Childe has gone. The other feels like an inexplicable part of him now, and despite feeling so full beyond what is possible he already dreads that emptiness that has to eventually come.
It's all such gritty grimey bliss that even the shower doesn't seem capable of washing off the filth of desire and its resounding accompanying pleasure, especially not when Childe finally adjusts hold and he's suddenly ramming into his prostate with such force and precision. It's enough to drag a squeal of moans and begging from Zhongli, any coherency lost in desperate babbles that can mean only one thing: more, more, please more!
The words he does manage out are barely a cry, one for him to slow down, absolutely unlike the entire rest of his body that's screaming for Childe to do more and do it faster. ]
Ahn~! S-slow down, I'll cum—?! [ and here he thought that wouldn't be possible especially not so soon, and yet— ]
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If he could stop this on his own, he would, not because he dislikes it but because he loves the feeling far too much. It's addicting, and Zhongli hella it shouldn't be. Being pounded into by a person with an incredible cock... it's brutal pleasure that he can't begin to describe, somehow he can only attribute to humans being capable of producing in such mind-numbing doses.
His pants and moans are shallow and desperate pleas in their own right, begging for more, enamored by the sight of the bulge in his stomach demonstrating how far inside Childe has gone. The other feels like an inexplicable part of him now, and despite feeling so full beyond what is possible he already dreads that emptiness that has to eventually come.
It's all such gritty grimey bliss that even the shower doesn't seem capable of washing off the filth of desire and its resounding accompanying pleasure, especially not when Childe finally adjusts hold and he's suddenly ramming into his prostate with such force and precision. It's enough to drag a squeal of moans and begging from Zhongli, any coherency lost in desperate babbles that can mean only one thing: more, more, please more!
The words he does manage out are barely a cry, one for him to slow down, absolutely unlike the entire rest of his body that's screaming for Childe to do more and do it faster. ]
Ahn~! S-slow down, I'll cum—?! [ and here he thought that wouldn't be possible especially not so soon, and yet— ]