Sex with Ulquiorra was simple, clean and clinical like a doctor's visit, and about as pleasant as getting your arm ripped off. Or at least that's what Ulquiorra liked people to think. Grimmjow knew better. He'd had his arm ripped off before, and as amusing as that had been, once the pain wore off, sex with Ulquiorra was by far the preferable option.

What none of the arrancar knew was exactly how good sex with Ulquiorra could be. They never would know, considering the vehemence of Ulquiorra's threats of what would happen if Grimmjow so much as thought about bragging. His arm he could deal with being ripped off, but there were certain parts that he'd prefer to keep right where they are. Still, it was a strange sort of high knowing that he was the only one to know about Ulquiorra's more... untamed side. Not that he really needed anything to make him high, not with Ulquiorra's hips twisting against his and those needy little moans Ulquiorra kept making.

Grimmjow's grin split his face in half as he leaned down, his breath ghosting along sweat-beaded skin. Ulquiorra turned his head to the side, giving Grimmjow room to close his teeth over Ulquiorra's shoulder. He paused, teeth pressing down hard enough to leave a bruise similar to the dozens of other bite marks littering Ulquiorra's skin. They were the only possessiveness either of them allowed outside of the bedroom.

His lips curled in a wicked grin and he increased the pressure of his teeth until the skin broke. Blood salted his lips and Grimmjow laved at the skin, not letting a single drop of red hit the sheets. Ulquiorra's moans were deafening and he twisted, tightening his legs wider around Grimmjow's waist and writhing, forcing Grimmjow's erection to move inside of him for the last few seconds it took before he came. Grimmjow's mouth didn't move away from Ulquiorra's neck as the other arrancar spilled himself between them, and he stayed still, chasing the last few drops of blood while he came silently, barely noticing his own release.

Their bodies stilled slowly. Ulquiorra fell back against the sheets, his limbs falling to the sheets in limp disarray. With the blood gone, Grimmjow's attention finally returned to Ulquiorra. He leaned back, his smile still stretched wide as he admired his handiwork. There was something beautiful about bruised skin and fresh scabs.

"I hope you know," he drawled, "that I won't give you up."

Ulquiorra smiled, his expression a mix of concealed fondness and cold dispassion. "At least you know what you're getting into."

Grimmjow smiled madly.