[Ren lets out a soft, breathy laugh himself in answer to how the giggling vibrates against him, and he wriggles and presses down all the more insistently, particularly when Molly gets to the highest area of his thigh, just before it curves in to meet his pelvis.] Well, apparently I'm lacking in those--
[That's all he really gets the time to say before teeth sink in with a sharp shock of sensitivity and agony that makes his back curve sharply and his thighs jerk tighter closed, fingers clenching around Molly's horn and in his hair. In contrast to his earlier openness, pain makes Ren bite down and retain - it's been so long since he screamed that he wouldn't even remember if it wasn't attached to sensitive memories, so of course he's not going to do it now - a moan of mingled pain and pleasure barely breaking his throat as his head tips back. What really makes his breath sharpen and the flush on his face intensify, though, is watching Molly spit what Ren knows is his blood taken by that bite out onto the grass. In that moment, his attention sharpens almost palpably, his focus completely on Molly's face and his gasps shallow until he speaks and...Ren sees the flecks of blood on the corners of his mouth moving more than he actually hears what's being said, honestly.
He's only just belatedly registering that Molly actually said words while his mouth was moving and that he might want to figure out what they were when the tiefling's head ducks between his legs again and a choked, surprised sound escapes Ren as his fingers dig in again, nails digging into skin momentarily with the intensity of the reaction. At first it's instinctive, but then it turns into something insistent and pushy as he grinds himself upwards into it, trying to take more for himself if he's going to be this slow about it, his thighs tensing and then clenching more intentionally as he feels the tips of Molly's horns dig into already sensitive muscles.]
I thought you said you were going to be fast... [He's practically whining at this point, breath catching with each prick of Molly's teeth against the head and each pass of his tongue against the very tip. Molly's definitely right that he wouldn't want him to bite that, but that doesn't mean the risk and the feeling of it isn't entertaining of itself, and he's into it enough by this point that he's pretty shamelessly trying to rub himself off against whatever parts of Molly he can reach if he can't actually drag him any closer now.]
no subject
[That's all he really gets the time to say before teeth sink in with a sharp shock of sensitivity and agony that makes his back curve sharply and his thighs jerk tighter closed, fingers clenching around Molly's horn and in his hair. In contrast to his earlier openness, pain makes Ren bite down and retain - it's been so long since he screamed that he wouldn't even remember if it wasn't attached to sensitive memories, so of course he's not going to do it now - a moan of mingled pain and pleasure barely breaking his throat as his head tips back. What really makes his breath sharpen and the flush on his face intensify, though, is watching Molly spit what Ren knows is his blood taken by that bite out onto the grass. In that moment, his attention sharpens almost palpably, his focus completely on Molly's face and his gasps shallow until he speaks and...Ren sees the flecks of blood on the corners of his mouth moving more than he actually hears what's being said, honestly.
He's only just belatedly registering that Molly actually said words while his mouth was moving and that he might want to figure out what they were when the tiefling's head ducks between his legs again and a choked, surprised sound escapes Ren as his fingers dig in again, nails digging into skin momentarily with the intensity of the reaction. At first it's instinctive, but then it turns into something insistent and pushy as he grinds himself upwards into it, trying to take more for himself if he's going to be this slow about it, his thighs tensing and then clenching more intentionally as he feels the tips of Molly's horns dig into already sensitive muscles.]
I thought you said you were going to be fast... [He's practically whining at this point, breath catching with each prick of Molly's teeth against the head and each pass of his tongue against the very tip. Molly's definitely right that he wouldn't want him to bite that, but that doesn't mean the risk and the feeling of it isn't entertaining of itself, and he's into it enough by this point that he's pretty shamelessly trying to rub himself off against whatever parts of Molly he can reach if he can't actually drag him any closer now.]