[It's terrible and maybe a bit frightening how his cock immediately stirs against your hand in an uncomfortable reminder of the fact that he's effectively still his skin rather than himself, and still off-balance and hot and wanting yet completely incapable of doing anything about it on his own. There's a small, broken noise at your words and a vehement shake of his head, gestures that make him look far younger than he actually is. Involuntary resistance, borne mostly out of the fact that this has wrung him out even if he's far from spent.
Fucked up as he is, the words that come to mind through the haze of his desire are ones that he's still afraid to say out loud, because saying them will make it real, and it's always a difficult exercise, confronting the full breadth and depth of the way you love/how far you're want to go for it beneath someone else's hands.
That, and you're so different right now. You're completely in control, completely capable of being as dark, as perfect, and as intense as he wants you to be, or maybe you could be even more than that. You could destroy him, and he wouldn't care. Maybe he really does need to be broken down, because once you've put him back together, he'll be able to deal with whatever tomorrow chooses to bring to him.]
no subject
Fucked up as he is, the words that come to mind through the haze of his desire are ones that he's still afraid to say out loud, because saying them will make it real, and it's always a difficult exercise, confronting the full breadth and depth of the way you love/how far you're want to go for it beneath someone else's hands.
That, and you're so different right now. You're completely in control, completely capable of being as dark, as perfect, and as intense as he wants you to be, or maybe you could be even more than that. You could destroy him, and he wouldn't care. Maybe he really does need to be broken down, because once you've put him back together, he'll be able to deal with whatever tomorrow chooses to bring to him.]