He couldn't think, his mind dissolving into an incoherant storm of sensation and lust and incomparable, indescribable pleasure that went so much deeper than just his body. So full, and it hurt, perfectly, deliciously. He was shaking with it, hissing softly through his teeth as he fought not to give Azazel any cause to regret this. The sound of the his moan made him whimper, and he turned his head, blind, and licked a stripe of the demon's shoulder, moaning quietly at the taste of salt and sin.
That first thrust made him gasp, and he fell back against the carpet at the burn that seared him hot and bright. He was cold, and Azazel was so hot, spearing to the very core of him and he groaned desperately. His hands, bound as they were, tangled in the soft carpet and he pushed himself up, forcing more of that perfect heat into his abused body and tightening on it deliberately, demandingly, pleadingly.
"More," he begged again, his voice rough as he rocked back after each deep push, moaning. "Come on, I can take it, please god..." His nails bit deep into the carpet as his fangs bit his lip hard. Being restrained only made the fire burn hotter, made everything feel that much better, but it was driving him crazy that he couldn't really affect his predicament and in another second he would fly apart. "Please!"