He may be suffused with a Goddess, but this is as close to divinity he could ever feel. His hands clutch Dimitri's, and he drinks in every little tiny sensation that floods his mind. No room for cruelty or doubt in any corner of his being right now. Just the feeling of his love inside him, below him, flooding him to the brim with adoration.

Byleth is far too gone now for proper sentences. He appreciates what is said, but all he can manage is deep, needing moans. Intentionally squeezing him inside, trying to milk every good sound and expression out of him. Desperate to take in every moment in full. It is far more than sex, or lovemaking, he feels. It is the act of consummation. Of something higher.

His ragged voice becoming a low mantra of his beloved's name, and pleas to not stop. To fill him. Claim him entirely.