icarusalsoflew | 003. and in every raindrop... // open post.

[ There's not much left for him to do but get swept along with how you're making him feel: desperate and tight and pushed to the brink. He's hitting the point where your name is the only thing he can mouth onto your skin/against your lips. Where your presence is the only thing that really matters.

The way your cock brushes up against his insides combined with the force of the sensations that lance through him reduces each breath into gasped almost-sobs. His body writhes beneath you, overwhelmed and yet wanting more at the same time. His mind is a mess of desire.

( Break him down, take him apart, do what you will with him; he did say that he wanted to be yours -- mind, body and soul. )

At the moment right before he slips, you'll feel the drag of his fingertips over your back and the way that his nails dig unintentionally into your skin, the spill of his cum between your bodies hot and slick. The only sound that leaves him at the end of it all is the cry he helplessly attempts and ultimately fails to swallow down.

Your fiancee has now collapsed back against that bed: flushed and weak-limbed, throat dry and lungs desperately aching for air. ]

[ That small, delicious indiscretion on your part only adds to the glorious high of pressing in close and groaning over your body as he cums inside of you, following the crest of your pleasure from start to finish. This was well beyond what he had imagined it being like, taking you for himself.

He lets himself sink down in the aftermath, showering your face, neck and mouth with small kisses that are far more chaste and loving than the ones he has given you since he started working you up and fucking you. This helps him recenter himself, because - while his body might need a bit of time to recover - the rest of him has not had its fill of you. ]

[ It's so easy to let himself sink further into those sheets, even as he leaves himself in your care. You kiss him and his lips part easy to receive your; his head falls back against the bed and he turns his face to one side to allow you better access to his neck. Your lips on his skin is like a balm and a brand all at once. He can't quite reconcile the soft and helpless sounds that leave him, but he doesn't fight it or try to hide.

It also doesn't escape his notice how hot his skin still feels, how the areas that you touched with the oil still seem to hum with need. You're still buried inside of him and it is all he can do to resist the urge to shift his hips so that he can draw you all the more inside. That is the unintentional press around you, and if the look in his eyes is a little unfocused, it's wholly, entirely, completely your fault. ]

[ He's only too glad to take responsibility for it. In fact, that might be why - after taking a few moments out to admire the way you look - he's chuckling right over your ear and pushing the sweat-drenched hair out of your eyes. ]

You're still so perfect even after I've wrecked you. [ And, as he's moving back and pulling out of your body: ] It also looks like you need me to fuck you again.

[ Murmuring that as he's kissing you one more time, and letting his hand drift idly down to your slicked up cock. ]

The effects of what I used on you are going to last for a while. Might as well take advantage of it, mm?

[He tries ( operative word: tries ) not to whine when you pull out of him, but since it doesn't take too long before you move your hand over him again, all he can do is look up at you like he's not sure what to do.

It isn't accurate to say that he's getting hard again, because even if he came, he doesn't feel anywhere near done. The heat wrapped around his cock isn't painful, but it's nowhere near comfortable and it most definitely leaves him so incredibly aware of how turned on he still is. ]

W-what was that, [ he can feel the flush creeping over his skin, gooseflesh rising because of the air from outside that manages to sneak in past the walls of your shared tent. He sounds so needy and he isn't quite sure how to feel about that. ]

[ Really: it's such a novelty, seeing you look this way, having you beneath him, hearing you sound so confused and needy and young.

He wonders, idly, if you've ever thought that about him. ]

Lube that isn't available at home. Shall I bring some back with us?

[ Because he'd love to use it on you again, and he's nice enough to leave the option for you to use it on him, if you so choose.

By the way: he's still lovingly feeling you up. He's fully recovered, and quite ready to go back to what he had been doing to you earlier. ]

[ And of course, since he's not quite back to his usual level of glib, all he manages to do is to blink up at you at first before he turns his head to the side.

He is pretty damn sure that his face is red. He can feel the way his ears feel so hot. He's also distracted by the way you've got him in your hand, the way you're feeling him up and tempting him to move his hips so that he can rub up better against your palm.

He looks, in a phrase, a little lost. You're not done with him yet and he has absolutely no clue what to expect. You're also such a force to be reckoned with, like this. It's a complete turnaround from when you both previously came together, when you put yourself in his care and he thought the pace of your lovemaking was mostly in his hands. ]

[ This is too cute. He'll forgive you for not being able to look at him, because it gives him an opportunity to lavish some attention upon your neck. He keeps the way that he's touching you between your legs feather-light, just enough to make you feel good without working you up too much.

There's a reason for this, of course, and a reason why he's keeping you busy with the way he's attending to you now. Said reasons are coming around on another table, willed to this particular side of the tent by your fiance's will.

Sweetly in your ear, just after he's kissed another line up your jaw: ]

You trust me, right? You want me to do whatever it takes to make you feel good tonight, don't you?

[ He does. He really does, there's no question about that. He should also tell you.]

Of course I-- [ and he's finally catching sight of that table and while he can't quite make out what's on it, you'll note that rather visible swallow and the minute way that he tenses beneath your hands.

( Where did those-- no, it should be: why are those even here? You're on the road, on a diplomatic mission to-- )

Okay. Full stop. Don't think too hard on it, you might hurt yourself, Josh. But his curiosity and surprise write themselves out in the way he turns his attention away from the table and back to you: tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips, jaw tensing whenever he closes his mouth from a breath. This is feeling a bit... no, plenty intense.

How long have you been thinking about him this way? ]

Edited 2015-03-01 15:02 (UTC)

[ Here: let him try to kiss a bit of that tension away, and continue covering you with your body in a way of offering up something that you can get lost in for a little longer.

...Granted, that isn't stopping him from slipping his arms under your body and lifting you up, where you can straddle his lap in a similar fashion to the position you so favor when you're the one fucking him.

(Let's not answer your question just yet, at least not directly. Maybe, if you truly will let him, you'll see it for yourself.) ]

[ Forgive him if the surprise is registering on his features just as he instinctively shies away. He forgets sometimes, that while you are built along lean and compact lines, that you're stronger than him several hands down.

If he looks tense, it's less about how your roles are reversed and more about the fact that he's not quite sure what to do with how he's incredibly turned on. He probably looks so terribly young right now, so utterly out of his depth but wholly willing to take whatever you want to give him.

Those are his arms wrapping themselves almost shyly around your shoulders, just as his gaze searches yours, a smile tugging hesitantly at the corner of his mouth. ] I'm feeling a little out of my depth here, babe.

[ Getting a pretty accurate read of that, which is why he decidedly doesn't slow down, or check to see if anything's wrong. He knows your body well (even better now, in fact, that he used to), and he's also becoming incredibly adept at reading into all of your tells, sometimes even better than you get a sense of yourself and your own needs. ]

Just trust me? I've got you.

[ It's firm and gentle all in the same breath, and matched with his hands on both sides of your face, all but pushing you to look at him and only him.

You need to relax, you need to stop overthinking, you need to let yourself enjoy this. You will, after all, be much better for it after he's finished with you. ]

[ The tension begins to seem away when your hands frame his face, and he lets his arms go slack over your shoulders, right hand idly toying with the hair at your nape. ]

Okay.

[ This feels oddly like that first time in Seigi, when you'd guided him through the logistics of how it would work between you two. You've never steered him wrong, not once. Trusting you can be as instinctive as breathing. ]

Kiss me again? [ If he sounds shy, it's because he kind of is. ] Please?

[ He'll smile at you as he sets his forehead right against yours, and hold you like that for a heartbeat before he's very carefully and gently capturing your mouth with his.

He will kiss you until you're relaxed and pliant in his grip once again, to give you time to settle down and re-learn how to get lost within him. ]

[ It takes a bit before the way you're kissing him does wonders for the tension along his shoulders and upper arms. Before the way he relaxes starts to show in the way that he sinks against your body. ]

Hikaru-- [ a breath, now. ] I'm... I-I'm not crushing you, am I?

[ It feels silly the moment the words leave his lips, because you've just drawn him close as if he weighed next to nothing. He isn't stalling -- please don't think that. He wants this. It just feels like a thing he should worry about: you're much shorter and much slighter than he is, and since this is new territory... he really doesn't want to trip up.

You're free to feel the way his hands wander over your form, palms and fingers following the shape of your torso with each dip and angle and line. You're so, so warm. So solid and real -- the mere sight of you makes him crave so much and he doesn't know if that's just him or something else about Arcadia making everything so much more than it normally would feel.

At the risk of sounding like someone who hasn't shared your bed before: it's terrifying; feeling this much want. ]

[ A soft laugh. ]

Don't worry about me. Worry more about yourself.

[ Saying that right before kissing you, and then he's snagging one of your hands just as he breaks away from your mouth. He runs his lips, though, over your knuckles just once before tugging you back with him. ]

Lean against me.

[ That is what he tells you, once his back is against the headboard. The table that he summoned earlier is not quite within reach for him, but it does not matter: the things on top of it will come they're summoned.

Said things happen to be a pool of silken cords, a ball gag, and a long, black metal bar with leather cuffs attached to either side of them. ]

[ The only reason he doesn't turn around right away is because of how he lets his eyes roam over you, as if memorizing your shape. When he does though, he leans back against you and wills himself to relax. It helps, of course, that this is you. And that you've always struck him as perfectly capable in each and every thing that you apply yourself to.

The sight of the things on the table though, are making him nervous again. You've both tried experimenting back home. But everything there had been improvised, things either you or him thought up in the heat of the moment.

These items have nothing "improvised" about them. He is also wondering, and not for the first time tonight ( which you will be able to tell from the mess of his thoughts as he's unable to filter ) why you have them. Here, now. ]

[ He'll draw his legs and knees up on either side of your body now, and frame you with himself as he starts kissing the side of your face. ]

I'm going to make you feel even better than you did earlier with those.

[ It's a quiet and steady promise, as solid as that collection of tools that is sliding over to rest on the bedsheets easily within Hikaru's reach. Even as one of his hands is skimming its fingers down the full length of your arm before snagging right at your wrist and drawing it behind your back. ]

[ He lets you do that, draw his hand over behind his back with relative ease. He's not going to fight you on this, not when he wants to see this through.

The bar does not make him nervous. Neither do the cords. It's the gag that does, but he tears his eyes away from it and focuses instead on your voice and the way you're touching him. His breathing is deliberately steady, or at least, he's trying to make it steady. It's harder than it should be, since this is turning him on. ]

[ The first cords that slid into his hands goes around your wrists, binding them tightly together. The next are wrapped about at a spot exactly between your elbows and your hands. The third tie your upper arms together.

He pauses there, in order to tilt your chin up and kiss your mouth: another silent reassurance, a means to give you time to get used to having your arms bound behind your back, and an excuse to enjoy the way that you taste. He's always been hooked on it.

Once he's come up for air, he snags some of his fingers on your bottom lip and says this over your mouth: ]

Draw your knees up towards your body and close your eyes.

[ He can feel the press of the cord into his flesh, but he does not have the words to tell you how the hitch in his breathing, the skip in his heartbeat, is slowly becoming more out of anticipation than an outright resistance to this.

He follows those instructions without question, drawing his knees up and shifting his weight before he closes his eyes. ]

[ One day, he is going to look back to this exchange between the two of you and marvel at how perfectly beautiful it was, seeing you completely submit yourself to him for the first time.

He nips at the crook of your shoulder, briefly pressing his nose against your skin in order to breathe you in once again before bending, fetching the spreader bar that has obediently positioned itself right where he needs it. You'll feel and hear, in the silence that follows, the way he takes hold of your ankles, slides the leather around them, pulls in tight, and buckles them both down. The bar is wide enough, it seems, to keep your legs spread a good distance apart without difficulty, effectively leaving you exposed.

The next sensation that follows is silk over your eyes, and your boy tying the knot firmly behind your head. Then there are fingers tracing your lips, and his voice back in your ear. ]

Open your mouth for me.

[ Here is the moment he hesitates.

Forgive him, the gag is the most intimidating item in this set. Yes, you have both played around with blindfolds, but this will rob him of speech and the idea is a little difficult for him to wrap his head around. Yes, you gave him a little preview of what it would feel like, but thinking about it is a whole other animal from the actual thing.

But he trusts you. He wants to do this for you. So you'll see the way he swallows, feel the tremor that goes through him before he parts his lips for you.

He trusts you. This can't be so bad if you're fine with it. And you have never once done him wrong. ]

[ And this is what he does in response: he turns your face towards him and brings your lips together. He kisses you like he wants to taste every part and inch of your mouth, like he owns you but owning you isn't enough to satisfy him. He draws this out, sparring with your tongue, letting you enjoy this as much as he is enjoying you.

When the moment is done, while you are still breathless from the way he's ravished and bruised your mouth with his affections, he's slipping the ball gag into place, pushing it back just far enough to force your lips apart into a circumference that is a little wider than what it would have been if you had placed your mouth on him, and securing it tightly behind your head, just like how he had done with the blindfold over your eyes.

He is quiet as he busies his hands with moving over your body. One of them wraps around your neck and curls its fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to where you'll hear him breathing, and maybe feel the ghost-like graze of his hair close to your face. The other hand skims down your body, over your sweat-drenched and oil-slicked muscles, and draws tight over your belly and around your waist, so that he might massage your left thigh. ]

Try to imagine that the gag I've fitted you with are my fingers in your mouth, or perhaps my cock between your lips. It might help.

[ It is a small sacrifice, really, gagging you. Nevertheless, while he won't get to kiss you nearly as much, now he will get to study how it changes the way you sound for him.

Ah, yes: ]

You'll need to ask permission again too, if you want to cum. All you have to do is nod when I ask you.

[ He knows all the signs that point towards you teetering close to the edge, beyond how you start to sound when the high begins to wash over your body. It's time to take advantage of that. ]

[ It's the change in his breathing that'll catch your attention first, alongside the shiver that goes through him as he listens to you speak. There's some discomfort at the gag, but it's mostly the newness of it all, and the idea that his mouth will be like this for as long as you deem it necessary. Breathing is not as difficult as he thought it would be, and when you suggest he think of it as if he had his mouth on your cock, it does make this marginally easier.

The blindfold has robbed him of any other distractions, anything else that he might turn to when things between you both get more intense. Right now, your voice feels like a force unto itself and his skin seems to come alive where you're touching him.

As furrowed as his brow looks, there's the hum of expectation in his bones. The cuffs at his ankles restrict his movement, and in strange way they calm him in the same way that the restraints on his arms do.

This isn't... as frightening as he thought it would be. In fact, the picking up of his heartbeat is directly proportional to his awareness over how this is turning him on. ]

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