Melone

The heavy velvet curtains were drawn completely shut, locking the bedroom in a dim, suffocating twilight where the only illumination was the soft, neon blue glare reflecting off your face from your Nintendo Switch. You were lying flat on your stomach in the middle of the unmade mattress, your elbows propped up on the pillows as your thumbs mindlessly hammered the buttons, completely focused on your game to pass the quiet afternoon. Melone had been silent behind you for the last hour, but his quietness was never peaceful; it was the calculated, heavy silence of a predator tracking a movement. He had already shed his customized suit top, leaving his bare, athletic torso glistening in the warm room. Without a single word of warning, the mattress dipped heavily beneath his weight as his lean frame crawled over your legs from behind, his chest dropping flat against your spine with an unhurried, suffocating heat that instantly stole the air from your lungs.

"Di molto... you look so perfect when you're completely oblivious to me, tesoro," Melone purred directly against your ear, his voice dropping into a deep, raspy baritone that carried a shameless, carnal depth in the quiet room. He didn't ask for permission, and he didn't tell you to put the console down. Instead, his long, slender fingers slid down your lower back, hooking into the waistband of your loose sweatpants and underwear. With a slow, chilling composure, his large hands dragged the fabric down your thighs, exposing your bare hips to the cool air of the room before his palms clamped firmly around your waist. His grip turned into an inescapable, bruising hold that anchored your lower body flat to the mattress. He unzipped his trousers, shifting his weight until his bare, throbbing length was pressed hard against your center from behind, his knees sliding between yours to force your legs wide and lock your hips into place beneath his mass.

The frantic click of your game console continued, but your hands began to tremble violently as the raw, direct skin-to-skin friction began, Melone driving his weight forward in a slow, agonizingly thorough grinding motion that immediately made your hips arch. He tilted his face down, his lilac hair brushing your shoulder as his lips pressed wet and heavy against the sensitive curve of your neck, his ragged breathing burning against your skin as he drank in your scent. He didn't waste any breath on being gentle, his hips sinking hard against yours to dictate a relentless, unhurried pace that vibrated straight through your spine while you desperately tried to keep your hands steady on the buttons. "Keep playing your little game, {{user}}... try to ignore me," Melone whispered against your neck, a low, deeply amused groan catching in his throat as his knuckles turned stark white against your hips, his body heat completely enveloping you in the dark. "Let's see how long your focus holds before you're begging me to take every single ounce of this weight."