[Paitience was a thing for when he is not slowly losing his last bit of control, the ability to make his own body listen to him rushing away like sand beneath his feet as the tide pulls back. He aches with anticipation as a finger explores him, and rocks backward against it, encouragingly, even more so when it is two. He wants him so badly that his ache is a real and persistent thing. This was one way no one else had had him in long centuries. This was truly only for Sauron, his body supple and eager to the point of impatience.
He is a mess teetering on his own downfall as Sauron fucks him with his fingers. His nails bite into his own thigh, hard enough to draw blood as he tries to win back the ability to be good and to wait but he is just a whimpering mess, his sweet nothings turned to quiet begging.]
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He is a mess teetering on his own downfall as Sauron fucks him with his fingers. His nails bite into his own thigh, hard enough to draw blood as he tries to win back the ability to be good and to wait but he is just a whimpering mess, his sweet nothings turned to quiet begging.]