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“Please,” he breathed.

Melchom’s nostrils flared. He did that a lot. It made Dove’s heart skip a beat.

“Get in the tub, tiny Dove.” Little by little, Dove saw the demon come back to his senses, stand more confidently. He resented having missed that lack of confidence in his stance before. “Let’s see how hot and bothered you still feel when you’re bloated with my piss.”

A whimper left his lips before Melchom had finished speaking. It didn’t matter. Dove needed it all—everything that the demon was offering. Dove needed everyone to see him and know that he belonged to someone: to their King. There couldn’t be any hesitation, any room for doubts to arise.

“No one but me debauches you,” Melchom growled, probably following his trail of thought. “No one but me gets to fill you with their fluids.”

“No one but you,” Dove repeated, his head burning it to memory like a mantra.

“Open your mouth.”

Obeying came as easily as breathing, Dove’s head clearing as his eyes hooded and Melchom helped him fit his cock into his mouth.

“That’s it,” Melchom mouthed the words, pushing until Dove had sucked his entire length, his trachea fully open for the demon. His nostrils burned, already itching to catch more air than was physically possible. “Heavens, I’m fucking starving, Dove. You know what that means?”

Saliva dribbled down the corner of his mouth. Dove didn’t bother answering. He didn’t think it would be heard over his heartbeat picking up.

“It means I’m not going to help you swallow. You’re going to do it on your own or drown.” Dove squeezed his thighs together. He wanted to whimper, but no sound really came out. “It means I’m not going to stop after you come once. No, I’m going to keep you coming, keep you guessing my every move until you reek of me and you beg for this to stop. I’m going to feed off you until I’m so full I’m bursting, Dove. And you’re going to let me.”

Fuck yes.

In his head, Dove was a wanton whimpering mess, bobbing his head up and down non-stop. Melchom chuckling pulled him out of it.

The stream of acidic liquid hit him then, with barely any time to prepare. Dove rushed to swallow, to put his throat to work. It was fine for the first minute. Exhaustion took over fast as the realization sank in.

Panic started to settle in. What if he couldn’t drink fast enough? If the smell made him gag and he couldn’t hold it in? Would Melchom really let him drown? He’d said he could put him back together, but Dove had never quite learned what that meant.

“You taste delicious,” Melchom growled, one hand curling around Dove’s now longer hair. “Begging for it when you know it’s going to bring you to tears. You are going to hurt, and yet, you want me to push you further, don’t you?”

The words broke through a dam Dove didn’t know he’d built, letting his tears free as he nodded. This was what had been missing for the past week. The adrenaline, the helplessness, the utter submission he found himself more than willing to live for.

Melchom’s biceps bulged. Ever since Astaroth brought attention to it, Dove found himself able to follow the tendrils of his fear traveling through his body. It was mesmerizing.

It made him feel powerful. He was the reason his demon was so big and strong and… so Melchom. It was a heady feeling.

“Don’t lose focus, Dove. You don’t want to know what happens when your mouth gets filled with piss you can’t swallow, do you?” The demon smirked. He sounded almost cooing, but that was wrong. “It will burn. A lot.”

It already burned as the tangy liquid streamed down his esophagus. Dave resisted the urge to cough.

“See your stomach? It’s distending already. I tend to forget how much liquid humans can take in one go.” The demon chuckled, sliding his hand from his hair to his throat, wrapping around it easily and squeezing. Dove gurgled, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. “I’ve heard it hurts, when there’s too much liquid. Maybe I should do that, fill your guts until they’re about to explode, and make you hold it, hurt for me that way.” A rueful laugh erupted out of his mouth. “And here I was, just the other day, thinking I didn’t want to be sadistic with you.”

Dove moaned; tried to, at least.

Melchom delivered on his promise, though. By the time he was satisfied, Dove’s stomach was cramping to the point he was sobbing. He’d almost choked on the piss at least three times, so everything burned. Everything tasted too acidic. Everything made him recoil, every touch too intense.

“Ride it out for me, Dove. Catalog everything in that mind of yours.”

It was a harder ask than Dove would’ve thought.

It was harder every time Melchom insisted on moving him. This time, Melchom set him on his lap. That wasn’t too bad, Dove guessed.

He regretted it the second Melchom’s hand wrapped around his cock.

“No, please, please, I can’t, Melchom, I swear I can’t,” he blabbered.

It didn’t matter if Dove was repeating himself.