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

[ He can feel you shift beneath him, and as a result, he can't help but smile into your skin before he's looking up at you. ]

You're so quiet... [ whispering that now as he tugs your ankles up so that your knees are slightly bent on either side of him, before the shadow of a grin touches his lips and he breathes over you.

Not taking you into his mouth yet. Just getting close enough to promise that he will.

Eventually. ]

[ He's definitely not so quiet now, not with the way that single move on your part made him shudder and wrung a ragged sigh from his throat, and made those hands of his flex like they suddenly want to be on you, or draw you closer. ]

You're a little distracting.

[ Just a little bit. And did his voice quiver there? Yeah. Can you blame him? Given the fact that you're between his legs, probably not. ]

[ He's bringing his mouth to the tip of you and kissing around it as he kneads the muscles in your thighs. ]

Am I really that distracting?

[ He's going to take you into his mouth now and suck you off slow and steady. ]

Oh, God --

[ That cuts off in a moan, and his hips immediately rise up like his body is, once again, trying to push more of himself up into your mouth. He's kind of past the point of trying to stay in control. He's waited for something like this for far too long, in his opinion --

-- which he'd certainly be able to articulate better in other circumstances. Right now, it's all he could do to breathe right and moan a little more. You'll hear the way your belt digs a bit into his wrists, and holds fast to that headboard. ]

[ You'll hear him hum with satisfaction deep in his chest when you lift your hips to greet him. He's grown well-acquainted with the shape of you between his lips and the rhythm of your body when the both of you get like this.

Your cock is hard and full in his mouth, he lets his tongue rub up against the vein on the underside of it as he attempts to take you deeper, so much so that he'll let the tip of you hit somewhere towards the very back of the roof of his mouth.

In the meantime, his hands have come to anchor themselves on your hips to pin you down; fingers curled inwards to keep you as still as he can manage. ]

[ There's another moan the moment he feels the tip of his dick go that deep into your mouth, and the next moan he that leaves his lips tapers out into a whine between his teeth once he's registered the fact that you're trying to hold him down.

His eyes might be fixed on the ceiling now, his head pressed deep into your pillows, but the only thing he's really seeing and feeling through is you.

It's so remarkably hard to breathe now. You'll get the sense, first hand, of how he's starting to writhe between your body and the sheets. ]

[ It gets him going, hearing you sound that way, feeling you shift beneath his hands and know that he's doing this to you. You'll feel him suck in a breath around you, the barest hint of teeth as he trembles. One hand is moving up, over your stomach and past your navel now, even as he tries to resist rubbing himself off on the sheets.

The way he's focused on you, by the way, is in the manner that he's moving around you and seems to have no intention of coming up fpr air unless absolutely necessary -- and he doesn't even do it by pulling back and away. Whatever retreat he has to do ends with his lips still kissing the tip of your cock and tracing lazy circles over the opening with his tongue. ]

[ All of that's enough to get him to whimper just over the pillow, as he turns his face away and shuts his eyes in an attempt to steady himself (it doesn't work). Said whimpers only end up smaller with each stroke from your end, smaller and a little more desperate.

He feels a bit like he's suffocating, because the air he draws in on the short breaths that he manages to push out from his lungs is hot with his own desire. ]

Josh...

[ Your name stutters out just so. He's started to tremble in earnest beneath you. ]

[ His eyes will flick to you at that, because you said his name; because the way you say it goes straight to the core of him. He'll hold your gaze for as long as he can as he sheathes you back in the warmth of his mouth, and if his eyes shut, it is only because he is moving around you and sucking you off harder in a reflection of how sharp the ache goes on his end.

( It is torture, by the way. He's trying to figure out a better way to sit, but his own cock is hard and aching to be touched -- but still. You first. He has you where he never thought he'd want you, his own release can come later. )

His hands have come round and slipped between the sheets and your body now; those are his fingers digging into the skin of your buttocks, lifting your hips up as if that might help get you off better with each suck and swallowed moan.

Come on, babe. He wants the taste of you in his mouth. Actually, let's be honest: he's going to make love to you like this until you won't have any other choice but to thrust up into his mouth with abandon. ]

Edited 2014-08-21 19:29 (UTC)

[ It isn't too long before the trembling grows worse and before it shifts entirely, leaving your boy positively writhing over the sheets and against your grip. Each breath he takes by that point either disappears entirely or turns into a sob of pure need.

When he does spill into your mouth, though, he buckles against you holding him down/the belt keeping him in place and cries out, like he's helpless against the way the rest of his body starts to react in the fact of the pleasure that is wracking it. Like he can't stop the way his hips buck up, pushing and pushing until he's spent.

He's still shuddering in the aftermath, wrung ragged by the experience of being dragged over the edge, and flushed with the combined pleasure of release and the anticipation of more. It's a rare treat, seeing the Blade King blush the way he's blushing now. ]

[ He's caught off-guard by the buck of your hips and he feels the tip of you connect with the back of his throat. He wanted this though, so he swallows that spill down, and moves his hands at an angle that allows him to guide the movement of your hips.

He'll come up for air when you're spent, lift his fingers to his lips to catch the slickness at the corners before he licks his fingers clean. And then he's moving over you, folding you back in his loving grip as he brings his mouth to yours. ]

You know, [ his voice is a little hoarse ] you're kind of really hot when you're all red like that.

[ You've cast a spell on him from the looks of it, because he can't do much else beyond watch every move that you make and start feeling, once again, like he can't relax, can't breathe right in your presence --

-- unless, of course, you're kissing him, the way that you're kissing him now. The whimper that your lips ends up swallowing, though? That was from the way you decided, yet again, to take him by the hilt. ]

That -- [ All of it ] would be your fault.

[ He's incapable of sounding accusatory right now, not while he's still so very turned on and can't think of much else beyond the way both of your bodies fit so well together, and how you had looked as you had drank him down. ]

[ Well, it's good to know that he's not the only one feeling like the only acceptable kind of oxygen happens to be the one he's breathing in from your lungs. ]

You're welcome.

[ His hands are going to slip lower, now that he's slicked his palm up with your cum. He's also going to gently massage that place where you've been asking him to pay attention to. ]

Don't hate me too much for it?

[ There's a stuttered sigh of relief/discomfort right up against the side of your face at that gesture, coupled with the unconscious flex of his fingers from where his wrists are bound and the buckle of his limbs. ]

Hard to do when you're so fucking good to me.

[ His insides are twisting up all over again, tightening his voice, seeping into his bloodstream once more, heating him up. ]

[ It's just such a shame that your arms positioned the way they are, he can't quite get the right kind of access to your neck.

That leaves other... areas to focus on.

He'll press his lips over your heart, and then turn his head so that he can move his tongue over your nipple. ]

[ That singular movement of your tongue makes him quiver beneath you, and suck in another breath as his head presses back down on the pillows. It does not help, of course, that you still have him sitting right within the palm of your hand.

He tries, then, to frame your body with his limbs and keep you close. He's not completely down and spread over your sheets, and he has to try to do something about the way you've worked him up. ]

[ He never knew that the taste of someone's skin ( yours, he can't really think of anyone else ) could be so addictive, or that there was such a thing as a hunger that had nothing to do with actual food.

His eyes are looking back up your way as he kisses right over that spot, tongue swirling around the hardened nub, even as he's tracing lazy circles along the rim of your entrance.

He should have remembered the lube. He wants to feel the press of you around his fingers so bad. ]

Edited 2014-08-22 08:30 (UTC)

[ And he wants your fingers hooked into him just as badly. Maybe you've noticed, with the way he squirms and how - in spite of the way he's biting down on his own lip - tiny, needy noises are bubbling up from his throat now with nearly every swirl of your tongue or circle of your fingers.

It doesn't take all that long before: ]

Please fuck me.

[ He's generally terrible at asking you for anything, even when you're in bed. Tonight seems to be the exception to the rule, doesn't it? ]

[ He doesn't reply right away. The way your nipple feels under his tongue and mouth is a little distracting, you see.

He'll feel you up again and press close, and then scrape teeth over skin for good measure. ]

And if I say 'not yet' again?

[ That's the drag of his fingers as he grips you, and then the press of his palm as he moves rhat grip right back down. ]

[ Your words elicit a sound that's somewhere between a sob and a helpless whine. His hips have taken a life of their own yet again, and you might be rather pleased to note the desperation in those eyes the moment they turn towards yours.

It hasn't been that long since you made him cum, yet his dick is already hard in your hand. He needs you so very badly, and your apparent decision to draw this out is just making that feeling worse. ]

[ Have another kiss then, as he shifts that grip of his so that he can stroke you more thoroughly. The look in your eyes is something he can drown in, because the idea that you need him, so much that it borders on desperation, is intoxicating. ]

Just hold on, babe. [ Murmuring that softly with the undertone of a promise. Let me draw this out. Let me make you feel good. Let me bring you higher. ] Just hold on for me.

[ He wants to spend a good portion of tonight kissing every last inch of you. ]

[ Have a tiny nod and another arch of his body towards yours. Please excuse him, Josh: he's more than a little overwhelmed.

Swallowing now, and attempting to get into riding on the crest of the pleasure that you're making him feel rather than let it burn him alive. It works, to an extent. That much will become obvious in how, after a few more strokes, the cadence of his breathing and the moans that leave his lips changes, growing a little deeper (a little heavier, as if they're truly full of you). ]

[ And he's going to end up absently bite down on his lower lips as he watches you, before he leans in to drop another kiss on your chest.

Excuse him, while he moves a little lower, those lips of his tracking a line down the center of your stomach. He's been wanting an opportunity to try this, but it used to be a little hard to remember that he wanted it when your hands would be so clever pretty much everywhere.

Is your boy nipping around your navel? Yep. ]

[ You'll hear as much as feel that little hitch in his lungs, and how it makes him quiver beneath your lips and teeth.

The pleasure's building again, quicker than earlier and melding with the feel of the belt digging into his wrists. That might explain the whimper that leaves his lips, and the knee-jerk resistance written in how his knees are trying to press together, as if his body cannot, for the moment, handle all of the attention that you're giving it.

It's not that he doesn't want this, Josh. It's that feeling this good tends to make him lose it, and that ingrained sense of control of his always trips him up when you push him this far. ]

[ His eyes are going to turn back to your face when he feels your knees press inward, when he catches that whimper on his ears.

Open-mouthed kisses now to hide the smile, right over that spot. And his tongue? Well, you're likely feeling the gentle flick of the tip over your navel, even as his grip around you tightens and the way he's stroking you slows. ]

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