Aurelian's fingers instinctively twitched, his palms memorizing the rapid, desperate leaping of the god's pulse beneath his touch.
The sheer, unyielding submission of a primordial force—begging to be broken, begging to be choked into silence just to satisfy the rot in the Emperor's soul—shattered the last shred of his royal discipline.
A feral, sadistic thrill exploded in Aurelian's chest once again, and before his intellect could stop him, his fingers closed tightly around Norx's neck, squeezing with a brutal, crushing force that immediately cut off the god's breath.
The sound that broke the silence was a choked, pathetic gasp, swallowed down into the god's throat as Aurelian's knuckles went stark white.
Aurelian didn't just squeeze; he used his leverage from the floor to pin Norx's upper body down while his own hips arched upward, driving the rigid length of his cock directly into the god's pulsing hole through their ruined garments.
