Chapter 55: Molten Claim
The heavy silence of the mansion’s master bedroom was shattered only by the crackling of the unnatural fire in the hearth and the ragged sound of their breathing. Crimson silk sheets pooled around Dante’s waist, his chest still marred by the angry, weeping claw marks Azrael had gifted him. Sweat glistened on his tattooed skin, catching the flickering firelight and the dim, molten glow pulsing within the thick veins of the obsidian horns curling back from his temples. Dabi straddled his lap, naked except for the sheen of sweat and the fading bruises Dante’s hands had left earlier. His chest heaved, eyes dark and wild, fixed on Dante’s with a feral intensity.
"Took you long enough to crawl back," Dante rasped, a smirk playing on his lips despite the lingering ache in his back where the massive wings were tucked away. His hands rested loosely on Dabi’s thighs, thumbs tracing idle circles on the sensitive skin just above his knees. "Thought maybe I wore you out."
Dabi’s answering grin was sharp, predatory. "Worn out?" He shifted his hips, the hard length of his cock brushing against Dante’s stomach. "Just getting started, old man." He didn’t wait for a reply. Eyes locked on Dante’s, he reached behind himself, fingers slicking quickly with spit before guiding Dante’s thick, heavy cock to his entrance. Then, with a deliberate, controlled movement, he sank down. All the way. In one smooth, relentless slide that punched the air from Dante’s lungs.
"Fuck!" Dante roared, his head snapping back against the pillows, spine arching. The obsidian veins in his horns flared violently, casting jagged, hellish shadows across the canopy above. Dabi’s tight heat engulfed him, impossibly deep, and he felt the involuntary clench and flutter as Dabi took him to the root.
"Like that?" Dabi breathed, his voice tight with strain and satisfaction. He braced his hands on Dante’s shoulders, fingers digging in. "Filling me up just right?" He didn’t give Dante a chance to answer. Bracing his thighs, he lifted himself almost off, leaving just the swollen head stretching him, then slammed back down hard. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed in the stone-walled room. He did it again. And again. Setting a brutal, demanding rhythm, his body a piston driving down onto Dante’s cock.
Dante’s growl was pure, raw pleasure. His hands flew to Dabi’s hips, fingers digging into the muscle hard enough to bruise, feeling the powerful flex and release with every downward plunge. "Yeah," he snarled, breath catching as Dabi hit a depth that made stars burst behind his eyes. "Ride it, you hungry little fuck. Show me what you need."
Dabi’s control was fierce, his movements powerful and precise. He drove himself down relentlessly, chasing his own pleasure, taking what he wanted from Dante’s body. Sweat dripped from his brow onto Dante’s chest, mingling with the blood seeping from the claw marks. The scent – sex, sweat, blood, and the persistent, underlying tang of sulfur – was thick, primal. Dante watched him, mesmerized by the play of firelight on straining muscle, the desperate set of his jaw, the way his eyes slammed shut with each deep impalement. He was breathtaking in his ferocity.
But Dante was done watching. With a guttural sound, he tightened his grip on Dabi’s hips, halting his frantic bouncing. Dabi gasped, suspended, impaled, his cock twitching angrily against his stomach. "Hey–!" he protested, trying to move, but Dante held him immobile with terrifying strength.
"Shhh," Dante murmured, a dark promise in his low voice. "My turn." His thumbs pressed harder into Dabi’s hip bones. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lift Dabi up, then dragged him back down onto his cock with measured, devastating force. Not as fast as Dabi’s pace, but deeper, harder, grinding into him with each descent. He controlled the angle, the depth, the entire brutal rhythm. "This what you wanted? Hmm? Begged for earlier? Wanted me to fuck you stupid?"
Dabi whimpered, the sound torn from him as Dante slammed him down again, hitting a spot that made his vision blur. His hands scrambled, lost their purchase on Dante’s shoulders. They flew up, fingers tangling instinctively in Dante’s dark hair before sliding lower, seeking purchase. They clamped down hard, knuckles whitening, around the thick base of Dante’s obsidian horns.
The effect was electric. Dante roared, a sound that vibrated the heavy bed frame. The molten veins within the horns flared blindingly bright, casting the entire canopy in stark, infernal light. The heat radiating from where Dabi gripped them was intense, almost painful. Dante’s hips snapped up off the bed, driving into Dabi with savage power, reclaiming the rhythm. "Fuck yes! Hold 'em!" he bellowed, his own voice thick with lust. "Squeeze those fucking horns, pretty boy! Show me how bad you need it!"
Dabi obeyed, fingers tightening like a vise around the hot, vibrating obsidian, using them as leverage to push himself down harder, meeting Dante’s upward thrusts. The combined force was animalistic. The ancient, solid oak bed frame groaned ominously. Dante’s free hand slid up Dabi’s sweat-slicked back, not gently. Sharp claws extended, raking down from shoulder blades to the curve of Dabi’s ass, leaving four bright, stinging lines of crimson welling up in their wake. Dabi cried out, a sound of pure, overwhelming sensation, pain and pleasure indistinguishable. His cock pulsed, leaking copiously onto Dante’s abs.
"Look at you," Dante growled, his voice dropping to a rough, possessive purr that vibrated through Dabi’s very bones. He kept up the punishing rhythm, pistoning up into Dabi’s clenching heat while dragging him down with bruising force. "Look at my perfect fucking good boy. Taking every inch. Begging for it with that tight little hole." He punctuated "good boy" with a particularly deep, grinding thrust that drew a broken sob from Dabi. "That’s it. So good for me. Taking my cock like you were made for it." Another thrust, another desperate whimper. "My good, greedy boy."
The praise, filthy and specific, combined with the brutal fucking and the sharp sting on his back, was shredding Dabi’s control. He was trembling violently, his movements becoming erratic, desperate. "Dante… please…" he gasped, the plea ragged. "More… fuck… need…"
"Need what?" Dante demanded, slowing his thrusts to deep, maddening rolls of his hips, grinding the thick head of his cock relentlessly against Dabi’s prostate. He eased his grip on the horns slightly, making Dabi whine at the loss. "Tell me what my good boy needs. Use your words."
Dabi’s head dropped forward, his forehead pressing against Dante’s, breath hot and frantic. "Harder," he choked out. "Fuck me harder. Please, Dante. Wreck me. Make me scream." The last word ended on a desperate moan.
Dante’s answering grin was pure feral triumph. "Since you asked so fucking pretty." His claws dug deep into Dabi’s hips again. His grip on the horns tightened, pulling Dabi’s head back, exposing the long line of his throat. Then he unleashed himself. Hips pistoning, he drove up into Dabi with brutal, jackhammer force. The bed frame shrieked in protest. The sound of their bodies slamming together was obscenely loud, punctuated by Dabi’s sharp cries that quickly dissolved into wordless, shattered screams. Dante pounded into him, every thrust a claim, deeper and harder than before, the molten veins in his horns blazing like miniature suns.
"Good boy," Dante snarled again, the words a guttural growl against Dabi’s throat. "Scream for me. Come all over my cock, you perfect fuck." He shifted his angle minutely, drilling into that spot with relentless precision.
Dabi shattered. His scream tore through the room, raw and primal. His back arched violently, body locking rigid as his cock jerked, spilling hot ropes of come across Dante’s chest and stomach, some splattering the unhealed claw marks. His inner muscles clamped down on Dante’s cock in a series of vicious, rhythmic spasms, milking him relentlessly.
The intense pressure, the screams, the sight of Dabi coming completely undone beneath him – it was the final trigger. Dante roared, a sound that seemed to shake the stones of the mansion. He buried himself to the hilt, holding Dabi impaled as his own orgasm ripped through him. Hot pulses of come flooded deep inside Dabi’s clenching heat, wave after wave, while his claws dug deep enough to draw more blood from Dabi’s hips. The bed frame, stressed beyond endurance, gave a final, splintering CRACK. The heavy oak groaned and collapsed on one side, sending them crashing sideways in a tangle of limbs, sweat, blood, and crimson silk.
Silence crashed back in, thick and heavy, broken only by their ragged, gasping breaths. They lay half-on, half-off the ruined bed, still joined, Dante’s softening cock buried deep inside Dabi. The fire crackled. The molten veins in Dante’s horns faded back to a dim, simmering glow.
Dabi trembled violently, utterly spent, his head resting on Dante’s shoulder, the hand that had gripped the horns now limp on Dante’s chest. Dante wrapped an arm possessively around him, pulling him closer, ignoring the wreckage beneath them. He nuzzled Dabi’s sweat-damp hair, the scent of sulfur, sex, and blood clinging to them both. "Told you," Dante murmured, his voice rough but satisfied. "Good fucking boy. Mine." He pressed a kiss, surprisingly soft, against Dabi’s temple. "Now maybe we should find a room with a fucking throne. It'd hold up better."