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POV: You Smoke a Joint With Dio and Ask Him Not to Kinkshame

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“Tell me your fantasy.”

Dio sits adjacent from you. You’re in a secluded room of his mansion.

You laugh for a moment, trying to hide your nervousness.
“You can’t just ask me something like that.”

“Can’t I?” He pulls a cigarette and lighter from his coat pocket.

“No. I don’t know what I’d even tell you. I don’t have one go-to fantasy.”

Dio lights the cigarette. Smoke fills the room and you realize he’s actually lit a joint. He takes a few drags.
“Ah, so you’re a woman of many fantasies.”

The look he gives you is obscene. You opt for the joint he passes you instead of a response.

“I just want to indulge you. I’m open to all suggestions” He purrs.

You choke on your first hit. Hunched over and clutching your chest, you try (and fail) to muffle your coughing. You swear you’re a finger down your throat away from vomiting, drool hanging from your mouth when your chest finally clears.

“Take it easy.” Dio trades you his glass of wine for the joint in your hand. You notice your face is flushed.
You take a reluctant sip to soothe your throat.
Dio takes another long drag and before you realize, the joint is back in your hand again.

“I’ll ask you again. Tell me your fantasy.”
His voice is slightly deeper. His gaze’s intensity feels akin to a predator sizing up its prey.
Your eyes dart to the floor.

“Love, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested-“

“I have a bit of an odd request.” You blurt out.

His eyebrow quirks.
“Try me. I’m sure you aren’t the first to ask.”

“Can I examine your teeth?” Your face feels hot.

Dio grins. "Oh? My teeth?”
He leans in towards you, his wide smile now in full view.
“So that’s what you’re into, huh? I can’t promise I won’t bite.”

Your heart skips a beat.
He takes your hands into his much larger ones and places them on his jawline. You tremble a bit at how close you are to his mouth.

“Can I?” You ask, fingers inching towards his lips.
He nods. “Go ahead.”

You run your fingertips along his lips. He opens his mouth, long tongue stretching out slightly.
You slowly place your middle finger inside. Sensing your hesitation, Dio sucks on it. Lips wrapped around you, he slides his tongue over your digit, pressing you into his bottom teeth slightly.
His teeth have ridges that feel jagged on your skin. He opens again, and you notice he still has mamelons. Likely a result of his slight overbite.

You run your pointer finger along his top row, appreciating the slight curve of his smile.
“What do you like about them?” He breaks the silence.

You pause. “Your canines.”

Dio smiles, even wider than before to show them off.
“Notice anything about them?” He muses.

“They’re huge. I’ve never seen anything like them before”
You slide a finger over one. Because of the placement of his front teeth, it sticks out slightly. You find it endearing.

Dio grabs your wrist. The expression he gives you is unreadable.

“They’re sharp too.”

He pricks your pointer finger on his fang, drawing a drop of blood. You yelp, pulling back your hand, but Dio keeps a strong grasp on you. He squeezes your finger; you squirm in response.

He places the finger back in his mouth and closes it, tongue drawing around you again. He sucks on you again, with more force this time than the last.

You sigh, relieved that your cut no longer stings. The sight of him looking up at you has you so enamored, you don’t even register that he’s cleaning your minor wound with his tongue.

He lets out a low moan, savoring the taste of you. You shiver.

“Imagine what they’ll feel like scraping against your throat.”

The mental image should scare you, but you find it all the more alluring. You picture him on top of you, face buried into your neck leaving red bite marks along your skin.

You decide you’ll risk anything to stay in this man’s presence.