Chapter 56: Molten Dominion
The sharp scent of ozone and splintered wood hung thick in the air, mingling with the heavier aromas of sex, sweat, and the ever-present, faintly sulphurous tang that clung to Dante. They lay tangled in the wreckage of the crimson silk sheets and the shattered oak bed frame, limbs heavy, skin cooling. Dabi’s head rested on Dante’s shoulder, his breathing still ragged but slowing. The deep ache within him was a pleasant throb, a testament to the violence of their joining. Dante’s arm was a possessive band around him, fingers tracing idle, rough patterns on the fresh claw marks scoring Dabi’s back.
"Throne room next time," Dante murmured, his voice a low rumble vibrating through Dabi’s skull. He shifted slightly, the movement jostling Dabi where they were still intimately connected. "Solid fucking obsidian. Won’t break." His chuckle was dark, satisfied.
Dabi grunted, pushing himself up onto his elbows, wincing as muscles protested. He looked down at Dante, at the fading glow in the obsidian veins of his horns, the dried streaks of Dabi’s own release mingling with the blood on Dante’s chest. "You gonna carry me there?" he challenged, a flicker of his usual defiance sparking in his dark eyes despite the exhaustion.
Dante’s grin was pure predatory delight. Before Dabi could react, Dante surged up. Hands like iron manacles clamped onto Dabi’s hips, flipping him effortlessly onto his stomach. Dabi gasped, face pressed into the crumpled silk, the scent of their coupling overwhelming. Dante’s weight settled over him, heavy and inescapable, pinning him flat. Rough hands shoved his thighs brutally apart, spreading him wide.
"Carry you?" Dante breathed, hot against the nape of Dabi’s neck. His cock, already hardening again with alarming speed, pressed thick and insistent against Dabi’s loosened entrance. "Nah, pretty boy. You’re gonna take it right here. On the fucking floor." There was no warning. No slow build. Dante’s hips snapped forward with demonic force.
Dabi’s scream tore from his throat, muffled by the silk. Dante’s thick cock speared him in one brutal, unforgiving thrust, stretching him impossibly wide, driving the air from his lungs. It was deeper, harder than before, a claiming that bordered on violation. Dante bottomed out instantly, grinding his hips, forcing Dabi impossibly wider. "FUCK!" Dabi roared, clawing at the sheets beneath him, back arching instinctively against the overwhelming invasion.
"Fuck yeah," Dante snarled, his voice thick with lust. He didn’t pause. He pulled back almost entirely, leaving Dabi gaping and empty for a split second before slamming home again with the same devastating force. And again. He set a punishing rhythm immediately, hips pistoning, each powerful thrust driving Dabi’s face harder into the mattress. The wet, obscene slap of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, punctuated by Dabi’s choked gasps and the crackle of the eternal flame.
Dante’s claws dug into the meat of Dabi’s hips, not just holding him in place but carving fresh, stinging crescents into the bruised flesh. The pain was sharp, immediate, a counterpoint to the deep, brutal pleasure-pain radiating from his core. "Look at you," Dante growled, his breath hot on Dabi’s sweat-slicked shoulder blade. "Taking it like a fucking champ. My cock buried balls-deep in that perfect ass." He punctuated the words with a particularly vicious thrust that made Dabi cry out again, his fingers tearing the silk. "So fucking tight still. Clenching around me like you never want me out." Another brutal snap of his hips. "That’s it, good boy. Take it all."
The praise, filthy and relentless, poured over Dabi like molten lead. It shouldn’t have mattered, shouldn’t have registered amidst the raw physical assault. But it did. It seeped into him, warring with the pain and the overwhelming sensation of being filled, owned. Good boy. The words echoed, absurd and electrifying. Dante’s claws tightened, drawing fresh beads of blood. "Yeah, you love this, don’t you? My perfect little fucktoy. Begging for my cock even when you’re screaming." He leaned down, teeth scraping the sensitive skin of Dabi’s shoulder. "Tell me you love it."
Dabi couldn’t form words. His world had narrowed to the relentless pounding, the searing grip on his hips, the suffocating pressure of Dante’s weight, and the terrifyingly addictive sound of that voice calling him good. He moaned, a desperate, broken sound.
Suddenly, Dante stopped. Dead stop. Buried deep, unmoving. The abrupt cessation was jarring, almost painful. Dabi whimpered, his body instinctively trying to push back, to seek friction, movement, anything. Dante held him immobile.
"Shhh," Dante murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. He shifted his weight slightly, grinding his cock deep inside Dabi, a slow, torturous rotation that made Dabi gasp. "Not so fast, greedy boy. You wanted me to carry you? Thought you were tired?" His chuckle vibrated through Dabi’s spine. "Nah. You’re gonna earn it." He pulled out slowly, agonizingly slowly, inch by thick inch, until only the swollen head stretched Dabi’s rim. He hovered there, teasing. "What do you want, Dabi?" His claws pressed deeper into the bleeding crescents. "Use those pretty words."
The emptiness was worse than the brutal fucking. Dabi felt stretched, aching, desperate. He pushed his hips back, trying to impale himself, but Dante’s grip was unyielding. "Fuck… Dante…" he gasped, voice ragged.
"Not good enough," Dante said flatly. He leaned down again, his lips brushing Dabi’s ear. "Beg."
Humiliation warred with a desperate, clawing need. The word choked him. "Please…"
"Please what?" Dante’s voice was velvet over steel. He nudged forward, just the tip breaching, then withdrew again. "Tell me exactly what my good boy needs."
The dam broke. "Please!" Dabi cried out, the word ripped from him. "Fuck me! Please, Dante! Need your cock! Need you to fuck me hard! Please!" The pleas tumbled out, raw and desperate. "Don’t stop! Fuck me! Make me feel it! Please!"
Dante’s growl of satisfaction was primal. "That’s my good fucking boy." He didn’t tease anymore. He surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one savage thrust that punched a sob from Dabi’s chest. And then he unleashed hell. His hips became a blur, slamming into Dabi with jackhammer force, each impact driving Dabi’s face into the silk, rattling his bones. The pace was brutal, relentless, far harder than before. The sound of their colliding bodies was thunderous.
"Yeah!" Dante roared, his claws raking down Dabi’s back, reopening the earlier wounds, adding fresh trails of fire. "Scream for me! Take it! Fucking take every inch!" He pistoned into Dabi’s yielding body, the angle punishing, hitting that deep, devastating spot with unerring precision. "Look at you! My perfect fucking good boy! Begging so pretty! Taking my cock like you were born for it!" His praise was a constant, filthy litany against Dabi’s screams. "So fucking good! Clenching around me! Gonna milk me dry, aren’t you? My perfect little cocksleeve! Good boy! Good fucking boy!"
The combination was devastating. The brutal, unrelenting fucking. The searing pain of claws tearing his skin. The overwhelming, degrading praise that somehow twisted into the purest affirmation. Dabi felt his control shatter. His cock, trapped beneath him, throbbed violently against the floor. Pleasure, white-hot and annihilating, detonated at his core. He screamed Dante’s name, a raw, broken sound, as his body convulsed, spilling untouched onto the tangled silk beneath him. His inner muscles clamped down on Dante’s driving cock in vicious, rhythmic spasms.
"FUCK YES!" Dante bellowed, the molten veins in his horns flaring blindingly bright. He buried himself impossibly deep, grinding hard as Dabi’s convulsions milked him. His roar shook the stones as his own release tore through him, hot pulses flooding Dabi’s depths, filling him impossibly full. He held himself there, hips jerking erratically, claws digging deep into Dabi’s ruined hips, his breath ragged gasps against Dabi’s neck.
Silence crashed down, heavier than before. Only their harsh breathing and the crackle of the fire remained. Dante slumped forward, his weight pressing Dabi fully into the silk and wreckage, his softening cock still buried deep. He nuzzled the sweat-drenched hair at Dabi’s nape. "Perfect," he murmured, the word thick with satisfaction. "Fucking perfect." His hand slid possessively over Dabi’s trembling flank, coming to rest on the fresh claw marks, sticky with blood. "My good boy."
Dabi couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Utterly wrecked, pinned beneath Dante’s weight and the lingering aftershocks, he could only breathe. The scent of blood, sex, sweat, and something ancient and infernal filled his nostrils. Dante shifted slightly, pulling out slowly, drawing a weak whimper from Dabi. He rolled them onto their sides amidst the ruins, pulling Dabi back tight against his chest, one arm locked around his waist.
"Rest," Dante commanded, his voice already dropping into a gravelly murmur. His lips brushed the shell of Dabi’s ear. "Gonna need your strength. Hell’s got nothing on what I’m gonna do to you next." The promise, dark and thrilling, hung in the air as Dante’s breathing deepened into sleep. Dabi lay awake, feeling the slow drip of blood down his back, the deep ache inside him, and the terrifying, undeniable pull of the demon wrapped around him.
The drip of blood down Dabi’s spine had cooled to a tacky trail by the time unconsciousness finally dragged him under. He swam in the heavy scent of sex, iron, and that underlying, ancient smokiness Dante carried like a second skin. Dante’s arm, heavy as forged iron, remained clamped around his waist, a possessive anchor even in sleep. Dabi’s last conscious thought was a fractured echo of the demon’s promise: Hell’s got nothing on…
Blackness. Then, sensation. Warmth. Wetness. A slow, relentless suction pulling him up from the depths. Dabi groaned, eyelids fluttering, disoriented. Firelight danced on the high stone ceiling. He was on his back amidst the wreckage of silk and splintered wood. Dante knelt between his splayed thighs, head lowered. Those dark eyes held Dabi’s bleary gaze as Dante’s mouth worked him with torturous expertise.
"Fuck… Dante…" Dabi rasped, his voice thick with sleep and instantly rekindled need. His cock was already hard, throbbing under the devil’s attention. Dante hummed, the vibration travelling straight up Dabi’s shaft, making his hips jerk. Dante’s hands, calloused and strong, pinned Dabi’s hips to the floor, preventing any real movement. "What… what time…?"
"Time for you to wake up, pretty boy," Dante murmured, his lips leaving Dabi’s cock with a filthy, wet pop. He licked a slow stripe up the underside, from root to tip, his tongue broad and hot. He took just the swollen head back between his lips, sucking lightly, teasingly. "Wanted to taste you first thing." His thumb rubbed rough circles on the skin just below Dabi’s navel.
He went back down, achingly slow. Not taking him deep, just working the first few inches with maddening slowness. Sucking. Laving with his tongue. Nipping gently at the sensitive ridge. He’d pull off, blow cool air on the wet skin, watch Dabi shudder, then dive back in with the same deliberate, unhurried pace. It was exquisite agony. Dabi’s hands fisted in the torn silk beneath him, knuckles white. "God… please… Dante…"
Dante lifted his head, a smirk playing on his slick lips. "Not God, baby. Just me." He leaned down again, but bypassed Dabi’s cock entirely. Instead, his tongue traced a hot, wet path down the inside of Dabi’s thigh, over the fresh crescent scars on his hip, towards the junction. He nuzzled Dabi’s balls, breathing hot air against the sensitive skin, then licked a broad, wet stripe over his perineum, stopping just short of his hole.
"Fucking tease!" Dabi gasped, arching his back, trying to push against the maddening touch. Dante chuckled, the sound dark and deeply satisfied. He did it again. That long, slow lick, stopping just shy. Then he pressed the flat of his tongue firmly against Dabi’s entrance, swirling slowly. Dabi cried out, muscles clenching involuntarily. "Yes! There! Fuck, Dante, please!"
"Please what, good boy?" Dante purred, lifting his head just enough to meet Dabi’s desperate gaze. His thumb replaced his tongue, rubbing firm, slow circles against the tight ring of muscle. "Tell me what my perfect little fucktoy needs." He kept rubbing, the pressure maddening, not enough to breach, just enough to make Dabi writhe.
"Inside!" Dabi begged, the plea ripped raw from his throat. "Your tongue… fingers… cock… anything! Just fuck me, Dante! Please!" His cock wept onto his stomach, untouched. "Need it!"
"Since you asked so sweetly," Dante murmured, a dark promise in his eyes. He leaned back down. This time, his tongue pressed insistently, wetly, inside. A slow, probing thrust that made Dabi shout. Dante fucked him with his tongue, deep and slow, curling it, exploring. The sensation was filthy, overwhelming, designed purely to unravel. Dabi thrashed, overwhelmed, babbling incoherent pleas.
Then the tongue was gone. Before Dabi could protest, Dante’s thumb pressed firmly again. A slickness followed – Dante had spat, crude and effective. Then, the blunt pressure of a fingertip. Dante watched Dabi’s face intently as he breached him with one thick finger, sinking in knuckle-deep with that same, infuriating slowness. Dabi gasped, his hole fluttering around the intrusion.
"Look at you," Dante praised, his voice rough velvet. "Taking my finger like a champ. So greedy for it." He began a slow in-and-out motion, the drag deliberate, stretching. "My good boy's hole is already sucking me in." He added a second finger alongside the first without warning. The stretch burned briefly, intensely, making Dabi hiss, his back bowing off the floor. Dante paused, letting him adjust, those dark eyes drinking in every wince, every gasp.
Then he crooked his fingers. Hard.
"OH FUCK!" Dabi screamed, vision whiting out. Dante had found his prostate instantly, pressing against it with unerring accuracy. Pleasure, sharp and electric, detonated low in Dabi’s belly, arcing up his spine. Dante didn’t hammer it. He massaged it. Slow, deep, rhythmic pulses of pressure with his fingertips, that maddening in-and-out motion continuing at a glacial pace. "Dante! Yes! Right there! Fuck! Don't stop!" Dabi sobbed, hands scrabbling blindly at the floor, his cock pulsing, leaking frantic pre-come.
Dante smiled, predatory and pleased. "Good boy. Feels good, doesn't it? My fingers buried in your tight little ass, rubbing that sweet spot." He kept up the torturous rhythm, watching Dabi unravel. "Gonna make you feel so fucking good." He leaned down, taking the head of Dabi’s cock back into his mouth, sucking gently while his fingers continued their deep, slow assault.
The dual sensation was unbearable. Dabi felt the orgasm building, coiling tight and hot, inevitable as a landslide. "Gonna… Dante, I'm gonna…" he choked out, hips bucking wildly against Dante’s hold.
Dante pulled his mouth off with a wet sound and stopped his fingers dead. Buried deep, pressure still on Dabi’s prostate, but utterly still.
"No!" Dabi wailed, the denial raw and animal. The peak crashed against an invisible barrier, leaving him trembling violently on the precipice, empty and aching. "Please! No! Fuck, Dante, please! Let me come! I need it! Please!"
"Not yet, pretty boy," Dante said, his voice low and controlled, a stark contrast to Dabi’s shattered state. He slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving Dabi gaping and empty, clenching around nothing. "My good boy can wait. Needs to be ready." He shifted his weight, moving up Dabi’s body. Dante’s cock, thick and slick with pre-come, nudged against Dabi’s stretched, quivering entrance. "Ready for the real thing."
He pushed in. Not the brutal spearing thrusts of before. Just the thick head, stretching Dabi’s rim impossibly wide again. He held it there, letting Dabi feel the burn, the pressure, the sheer girth. Then, inch by agonizing inch, he sank deeper. So slowly Dabi could feel every vein, every ridge, the hot, heavy slide filling him with excruciating precision. Dante groaned, a deep, rumbling sound of pure pleasure as he seated himself fully, balls-deep.
"Fuck," Dabi gasped, overwhelmed by the relentless stretch, the slow invasion. "So big… fuck… Dante…"
"You take it so fucking well," Dante breathed, leaning down, his lips brushing Dabi’s ear. He stayed buried, unmoving, letting Dabi adjust to the overwhelming fullness. His claws traced lightly over the fresh scratches on Dabi’s hip. "Perfect fit for my cock. My perfect fucking good boy." He began to move. Not the jackhammer pace. A slow, deep withdrawal until just the head remained, stretching him obscenely, then an even slower, grinding thrust back to the hilt, punctuated by a sharp grind of his hips that mashed his cockhead against Dabi’s prostate.
It was pure torture. Each slow thrust was a universe of sensation. Dabi felt every fraction of movement, every shift of pressure. Dante controlled it completely, setting a rhythm that was almost leisurely, yet devastating in its intensity. He dragged his cock out with infuriating slowness, watching Dabi’s hole cling to him, then pushed back in with that same deliberate, grinding force, hitting Dabi’s core with relentless precision.
"Please," Dabi sobbed, tears pricking his eyes, his cock throbbing painfully against his stomach. "More… Dante… faster… please!"
"More?" Dante murmured, his voice thick with lust and amusement. He didn’t speed up. He angled his hips slightly, ensuring each slow, deep thrust scraped directly over Dabi’s prostate. "You want more, good boy? This isn't enough?" He punctuated the question with another grinding roll of his hips, deep inside. Dabi screamed, back arching, his cock jerking violently.
"Yes! Yes! It is! Fuck! But… please!" Dabi babbled, completely lost. "Need… can't… Dante, please! Fuck me harder! Give it to me!" He was incoherent, reduced to begging by the slow, unrelenting pleasure-pain.
Dante watched him, eyes blazing with infernal heat, the molten veins in his horns pulsing brighter. He kept the agonizingly slow pace for three more thrusts, each one dragging a broken sob from Dabi. "Alright, pretty boy," Dante finally growled, his control snapping. "Since you begged so fucking good." The words were barely out before he changed.
He pulled out until only the tip remained, then slammed back in with all his demonic strength. The impact punched the air from Dabi’s lungs. Dante didn’t pause. He set a brutal, jackhammer rhythm, pistoning his hips, fucking into Dabi with savage, driving force. Gone was the slow burn. This was an inferno. Each thrust slammed Dabi’s body against the stone floor, the wet slap of flesh echoing off the walls. Dante’s claws dug into Dabi’s hips again, anchoring him for the onslaught, drawing fresh blood.
"FUCK YES!" Dante roared, his voice shaking the air. "Take it! Take my cock, you perfect fucking slut! Ride it! Scream for me!" He hammered into Dabi’s prostate with every devastating stroke. "Good boy! My perfect fucking good boy! Gonna make you come so hard!" The praise was guttural, filthy, ripped from him as he fucked.
The sudden, brutal intensity after the prolonged torture was catastrophic. Dabi’s vision fractured. Pleasure detonated at his core, white-hot and all-consuming, obliterating thought. He screamed Dante’s name, a raw, jagged sound torn from the depths of his soul. His cock erupted untouched, thick ropes of come splattering his stomach and chest in violent pulses. His inner muscles clamped down on Dante’s driving cock in a series of vicious, rhythmic spasms, milking him mercilessly.
"THAT'S IT!" Dante bellowed, the molten veins flaring like miniature suns. He buried himself to the root, grinding hard as Dabi convulsed around him. His roar shook the very stones of the mansion as his own release tore through him, hot surges flooding Dabi’s depths, filling him impossibly full. He held himself deep, hips jerking erratically, his claws locked onto Dabi’s hips as wave after wave of his spend pulsed inside.
Dabi lay beneath him, utterly shattered. Tremors wracked his body. His breath came in ragged, broken gasps. Dante collapsed forward slightly, his weight pressing Dabi into the floor, his softening cock still buried deep. He nuzzled Dabi’s sweat-soaked hair, breathing hard. "Good fucking boy," he rasped, the praise a dark, satisfied rumble against Dabi’s skull. "Took everything I gave you."