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

[ Which is something that your boy finds particularly poignant, together with the fact that he actually drove you to tears.

You're so beautiful like this, it's near unbearable for him.

He's quiet for a few moments after, because he wants to give you just a bit of time to breathe. He also wants to kiss at your cheeks, the corners of your eyes and your eyelids to wipe some of the traces of that away. ]

Let me bring you down.

[ Now he's the one asking for permission. ]

[ It feels so strange for the gag to be gone from his mouth, and his brows knit together as he shuts his eyes, because the room feels both equally bright and dim.

He shivers then, when you ask and he nods, his lips pressing together before he worries on his bottom lip because he's not yet done and he needs you to help with that. ]

[ You'll get a kiss right on the top of your head before he's shifting his limbs and lowering the both of you unto the bed, helping you turn yourself properly so that you're comfortable being flat on your stomach and on your knees in spite of the restraints on your arms and the fact that the spreader bar is still keeping your legs apart.

He could remove those, really, but you look so perfect in them, and it honestly seems as though you've grown accustomed to the way that restraints can make you feel good.

Once you're down, he frames you with his body, caging you over the sheets as he lets his mouth track down familiar places along the nape of your neck, your shoulders, your shoulder blades. He's withdrawing his dick from your body as he does this, not because he's not ready for you, but because he'd like to do more to put you at ease in this new position.

That mainly involves him shifting downward, to mouth along the perfect curves of your ass, and run his tongue down the crack between your butt cheeks. A bit after that, and you'll feel his mouth against your entrance, sucking and licking up the oil and the bit of his own semen that is dripping down from your hole. ]

[ It's such a beautiful play in contrasts: the restraints and the way he's bound, your gentleness as you help him onto that bed. It steals his breath and makes him dizzy, so much so that when you frame his body with your own he trembles beneath you, arching instinctively to the heat of your mouth which ends in a sharp intake of breath and a muffled moan as he turns his face into the sheets.

Pathetic as it might sound, he feels incomplete without you buried inside of him. It's like you've hollowed him out and left him empty by simply moving your body away. Still, you don't leave him waiting long though, because next he knows you're licking around him and taking your fill.

His forehead is pressed into the mattress now, those fingers of his flexing again in response. ]

[ Perfection might not exist, but you come pretty damned close right now. He wasn't fully spent to begin with: now he's getting hard just lavishing attention upon your ass, feeling the way you quiver underneath his body, and occasionally coming up from air to watch you.

Once he's done cleaning up a little bit of the mess he's made, he's moving to drape himself over you much like a blanket or perhaps second skin, and reaching out to curl his hand under your chin and lift your face up to his. ]

I'm going to gag you again, because you won't be able to kiss me while I fuck you anyway.

[ His voice is rough with unattended need and emotion. His words are matched by how he's also reaching underneath your body, and giving your cock a good, full stroke. ]

[ It is probably poetic then, that the gasp that quivers out of him prompts him to part his lips for you, and that he doesn't close his mouth even if the natural inclination to do so is there. His eyes are back on yours now and the look in them in full of want, full of need, and full of you.

Please, yes. Fuck him again. Push him over the edge once more. He's already anticipating the way you'll fit back in him, which is why his stomach has tightened, the muscles beneath his flesh quivering as he does his best not to squirm on the sheets. ]

[ That your reaction is such a marked difference from earlier only stokes up the lust within him all the more. This night is going to stand out among every night that he remembers for the rest of his existence.

There is no kiss this time: he doesn't need to ease you into anything. There is only him tugging the gag back up between your lips and pulling it into place, him shifting, taking you by the neck and pushing the lower half of your body down in order to bring your hips closer up towards him. A brief respite, as he's moving into position, bringing himself solidly between your legs and how they've been so lovingly, conveniently spread apart by your need for him and the restraints he's bound you up in. Then you'll feel his cock nudging against your ass once more, gradually prying you open to welcome him back inside of you.

He did not loosen you up because you're more than ready for him. Everything you've been doing and all of the different shades of your reaction told him as much. ]

[ He does his best to breathe around the gag, and the sound that leaves him is caught perfectly between a sigh and a whine of pleasure when you press in, push close and snug into him. He can feel every inch of you as you sheathe yourself inside even as he shifts over those sheets and sinks further into your bed. You'll no doubt feel the way his body adjusts as best as it can to you, as if to welcome and draw you further inside.

There is no reluctantance now, just a sense of feeling utterly, surreally content. And when he turns his head to the side, its because he needs to see you, even if just a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. ]

[ And in response to that, once he's fully sheathed inside of you and pressing right down against that spot that makes you weak with need, your boy is setting his forehead against your back in order to breathe you in/breathe over your skin.

He'll let himself slip now, as he starts, for the third time, to spread you wide apart and fuck you into the mattress with those same, deep strokes that he's been giving you the entire night. His grip on your neck and the hand he has splayed over your hip is tight and uncompromising: a direct contrast, at times, to the way he'll shower kisses over your body.

You've proven that he does not need to adjust his pace. You'll let him drag you up to the highs he reaches, and destroy yourself in his arms. ]

[ This latest round comes in fragments of a whole: the bite of your grip on his skin, the contact between the tip of your cock and his prostate that sends him shivering into that mattress, face pressed into the sheets; the way you take him ( rough and demanding ) in counterpoint to the tenderness that your lips press against his skin.

He's reaching for you again, from the pads of his finger tips that graze your flesh, to the way he starts pushing back with his hips as far as his restraints will allow. Even the cadence of his moans into the bed beneath him, the air around him -- listen close and you'll find yourself there.

He loves you so much, he's willing to lay himself down at your feet, crumpled and torn, unmade by your hands.

Take him apart, break him down, make him forget he is anything else but yours. ]

[ And take you apart is exactly what he does with that fuck, and the several other rounds that follow it. Your coming together with him was a small eternity within conceivable time, full of the dangerous beauty of you perfectly willing and submitting to all of the things that he decided to do to you (read: the many permutations behind him holding you down, with and without restraints beyond his own limbs and hands, and fucking your ass/mouth with his fingers/cock). He fucks you up until the very last minute that your will could keep you conscious, and held you close, breathing you in as you drifted off against his body.

He gets up a few hours before sunrise, rising from sheets that are drenched in the intermingled sweat and cum from both of your bodies, setting his back against the headboard of his bed and summoning his favorite pipe to his hands. He takes a few drags, reveling in the afterglow of having you in a way that he thought he would not be able to have not just once, but a near countless number of times by his estimate in a single night.

This is how you will find him if you manage to wake up: naked but for the haori draped over his shoulders, one knee drawn up close to his body and balancing the arm whose hand has his pipe smoking away into the cold morning air. The wards he has placed on the tent that the both of you share are muffling the sounds of a camp that is only starting to wake up in earnest. ]

[ Wakefulness comes slow: first it is scent ( the residual mix of sweat and sex, the mix of cloves and mint that you favor underscored by that smell that's distinct to cigarettes ) and then it is sound ( people moving about with the crunch of grass beneath the weight of feet among other muffled things, the wind outside, muffled voices; ) and then his eyes open and focus, adjusting to what light there is, which leads to the shapes, the hints of color in the tent you two have taken to sharing.

He doesn't move at first. His body feels wrecked, aching in places he didn't know he could ache and as he dimly navigates that threshold of just-barely awake, he remembers the sight of you above him in those last few rounds, the precise weight of your hands as you pinned him down and the way you both came together, again and again, and again.

His skin has cooled now, the oil that you used on him having run its course. That makes him register acutely, the crawling flush up the back of his neck before he shifts over those sheets just a fraction so that he can hide his face in the pillow beneath his head.

That was some... pretty... amazing sex. Um, wow? ]

Edited 2015-03-12 03:45 (UTC)

[ It's the change in your breathing that tips him off before anything else. Rely on your boyfriend to notice something as small as that.

Smiling down at the way you're curling up, and then - since you're right within reach anyway - letting his fingers wander through your hair. He's feeling particularly possessive of you at the moment, which naturally includes wanting to find every excuse to go back to touching you again, even if he'll have to stick to doing so in small doses given how intensely he's screwed you on these very sheets as of late.

No words for the moment: just this. ]

[ He surprises himself when he starts at the feel your fingers in his hair, freezing, for a moment before he slowly relaxes and sinks back into that bed. He's quietly peering up at you now, nose and the lower half of his face obscured by his bicep. You are free to notice the shy slant to his gaze, as well as the minute pause when he's managed to take the sight of you in.

You're so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

If his eyes dart away, it's only because he's suddenly contrite and embarrassed -- but not in a bad way. He just... won't... move... too much. Damn. Damndamndamn. Fucking morning wood. ]

[ Moments like this make him remember just how young you actually are, especially in comparison to him. He forgets, at times, because you're such a steady presence in his life, and you usually make it a point to step up out and beyond yourself for the ones you love the most.

Chuckling, even as he's still keeping up those soft, hopefully soothing movements with his fingers through your hair, his hand on your head and the side of your face that he can reach. ]

Suddenly shy, huh?

[ Saying that with that gentle tone that he tends to use on you when he thinks that while you really don't have to act the way you are right now, he is pretty sure that he gets why, and he's not going to rib you for it.

You're not so bad yourself.

Nothing, however, can stop him from appreciating the finer points of his fiancee, though, from all of those cute little responses you're giving him right down to your ass. ]

[ It's telling that he doesn't respond the way he usually does, with words that seem right for the moment. He's still going through the motions of processing the events of last night, right down to taking stock of how the parts of his body feel. His smile will reflect in the slant of his eyes, right before he leans into your touch.

It is... really nice to finally feel like that unnameable itch that he's been trying to scratch has been -- for the moment at least -- satiated.

Okay. Let him at least remember how to talk: ] You don't need me to get up right now, right?

[ Sheepish, soft, and also incredibly comfortable in your presence. ]

I might need a little bit before I start walking around.

[ He's just going to bend down for a moment and kiss you on the cheek now. ]

I could fix that for you, you know. We can't have the Bethrothed of the Blade King moving about with a mysterious limp.

[ You do love him for his wicked humor too, right... ]

[ And mmmm, that is a good kiss.

Yeah, he's going to sort of roll over so he can reach up and draw you back down for just one more. ]

Just leave me a few things to remember last night by.

[ Soft and amused now. You left scratches and some bruising but they're nothing he can't heal on his own. That is, if he had a mind to. ]

[ Making a soft and low noise of approval against your mouth, and smiling into that kiss. The smile stays when he withdraws - but he doesn't pull back very far.

He can still smell himself on you. That is such a turn on. ]

So that I can study them again later?

[ His hand is seeking out one of yours, tangling your fingers together and drawing your palm up and over his heart. ] If you want to, I'm not going to stop you.

[ There's the tell-tale tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes are searching yours. This kind of banter feels familiar. It's nice.

A quick nip over your knuckles now. ] Honestly though, I just like knowing that they're there.

[ Take that confession as you will, babe. ]

[ He's just going to ditch the pipe now. There will be plenty of time to smoke later.

The smile on your fiancee's face is growing, and while it's clear that he has noticed it, he apparently can't be bothered to hide it. ]

Care to explain why?

[ That smile is getting answered in turn by the one that this one ends up biting back -- just a little. ]

You mean I need actually need to explain why I have no problem with love marks from my fiancee.

[ He likes knowing he excited you that much. You're often so careful in handling him, it's refreshing to see you let go. To know that he had a hand in it by just being himself. ]

[ Chuckling. ]

Not everyone is into that sort of thing. [ A beat. ] Not everyone who's been with me is too keen on giving me more things to use against them the next time we fuck.

[ Yep. Going there all over again. ]

[ That smile of yours is so damn dangerous, Hikaru. He'll answer it back with him looking down at some indeterminate point between you, seemingly thoughtful. ]

Well, just so that we're both clear, [ his voice is soft and idly musing. ] I am fine with giving you things to use against me when we do fuck.

[ Tongue in cheek for a bit, and then he's turning his gaze back up your way. The expression on his face is equal parts dead serious and totally honest, because he means it; every last word. He liked last night's change of pace. It was new and different kind of high. Whether or not that's Arcadia's influence doesn't really matter -- because at the end of it all, you offered, he took it, you both benefited in the end. ]

Edited 2015-03-17 03:12 (UTC)

Then I do solemnly swear to believe you, and promptly test these boundaries at every possible opportunity.

[ Know that you brought this upon yourself, and he loves you. ]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)