If Josh had words to offer, he would reassure Alecto that there was no possibility of anything else - that everything about this was perfect and enjoyable, that the mere thought of what was happening - Alecto staking such a physical, unmistakable claim on Josh, while Josh lay splayed atop his precious sealskin - was enough to make Josh breathless with want and need and blinding arousal. He doesn't hold anything back, given free rein like this - he moans and cries and whimpers with pleasure as Alecto stretches him, his body trembling with desire and overwhelming love.

His body opens for Alecto, practically straining in obedience to the physical demand of his cock driving into him. The feeling of Alecto's tongue dancing up along his back and spine, his hands on Josh's body, holding him down, the sting of his teeth, possessive and hungry, almost savage. Any pain he might have felt is quickly lost in the flood of sensation, tilting his hips up eagerly to try to help things along.

"Dearest-" he gasps, incoherent already, the sound wet with tears and spit and adoration. "Dearest I'm-"

"Don't stop," he begs, his body tensed against his own orgasm. "Please don't stop..."