It's so good, and then it's everything. Tseng welcomes the fingers around his throat, going shaky, shuddering for that moment it takes for them to twist and clench and squeeze. That is enough, certainly, to turn that slow burn in his gut into fire that tears his whole body apart acre by trembling acre, but as always, perfection is never enough for Rude. It's a blinding procession of pain that follows, lightning exploding in his eye when Rude gets him so good with that hook that he freefalls right over the edge, and then Rude's fucking him right back, lifting his hips so that every thrust is harder, deeper, slaughtering him like no man with a sword ever could. His orgasm stings just as badly as those teeth tearing into his flesh, and he's not sure when he began making those wild, strangled, cornered animal noises but he can hear them ringing off the walls as he pumps blindly into Rude's body, spilling and spilling what seems to be every living inch of his soul into the far too tight clench of Rude's guts.

He can't even open his eyes; he's shaking too hard, his whole body rioting with the aftershocks of too powerful pleasure coursing through him like a livewire. Whatever Rude is saying, his blood is singing for him to fucking do it, do anything he tells him if he's the one who can make him feel like this. The fingers painting bruises on his neck relent as he descends, viciously snatch up his hair and it's so wonderful that he's moaning all over again when he purses his lips and sucks Rude's cock into his mouth. There's too much of it, laying too hard and heavy against the back of his throat to not make him gag, but the tears that well up in his eyes are sweet and almost human, and his whorling, devilish tongue makes up for all the rest.