icarusalsoflew | Waking the Dead 2.0 || August 27, 2063 || Saturday

[The quiet realization that you're watching him brings its own kind of thrill, one that lances straight through his gut. It's enough to make his tongue falter from how it's been sliding over you just once, and draw a small, needy noise from his throat.

Still, he's always and ever aware of every little move that you make, especially in moments like this. That is why he's taking you as slowly and as thoroughly as he can manage, trying to coax you into setting a pace that suits you. He goes all the way down, bringing you into his mouth up to the hilt, and whenever he slips you back out, he never strays far, because he swirls the tip of your cock with that tongue of his (because your taste is something he's terribly addicted to), and he also lets his mouth move around your balls, perfectly tracing the entire shape of you for himself (he has no plans of leaving any part of you unattended).

It isn't too long before he's watching you too, fixing those eyes of his right on your face even while you're pressed between his lips, keeping them apart.]

[ He doesn't even bother to hold back the noise that claws it's way past his lips because the room is soundproofed and he's cutting loose this time around. It's obvious: he is so totally okay with you hearing what you do to him.

No words now, just that sound as his hands reach down to thread through the softness of your hair, the feel of your scalp as he kneads the pads of his fingers over it. Yes, his eyes are on you. Yes, they are dark and full of so much want. Usually, they are so clear, and tonight they still are, in a way, but the look in them is something you haven't likely seen before because he's letting go, as best as he can so you can see for yourself how this is wrecking him.

A shuddering breath now as the tightness in his stomach is forcibly eased back, and the trembling movement of those hips as they rise up just as you slide your lips away.

Need is such a terrible and beautiful thing. Want is so visceral right now it cuts him clean to the bone.

You are his everything in this very moment. And he is certain, in his heart ( the one that failed him once and then beat again upon his awakening ) he knows, there is no one else for him for as long as he is l still, of breath. ]

Hikaru... [ that is as much a plea as it is a moan as he moves beneath you. ]

Edited 2014-05-31 21:43 (UTC)

[He's always liked that he can push you to say his name like that, and this time is all the more thrilling given how compromising his position actually is. At any other time, in fact, he might have withdrawn, might have let his hand stroke you off as he whispered sweet requests for you to fuck him into your ear, or over your skin.

Tonight, though, is different. Tonight, he's withdrawing from your length, letting himself catch his breath just over the tip of you, and then looking up to watch you - wait on you - again. He can't seem to breathe right because his mouth is still tingling from the taste and feel of you in it, and he's positively shaking from the effort of holding back from rubbing himself off on those sheets. Pleasuring you has done nothing in the direction of settling him down.]

God, no -- just... [ those are his fingers grasping at your cheek as you pull away, and he's pushing himself up with one arm to follow.

The swell between his legs is an ache that makes movement send shivers all throughout his body, and he draws his knees up, locks your torso between his thighs to keep you in place. ]

Don't stop, please.

[You'll feel the way he shudders, just so, once you've caged him with your knees. He dispels it just a bit by turning a wan smile in your direction. Then he's gracing the tip of you with a small lick before he speaks.]

Should I get you off?

[Or should he just keep going and let you decide, somewhere down the line, when you want him to stop?]

[ His teeth catch on his lower lip in response to that question, his hands cupping you face between both palms as he falls back onto the bed.

He swallows a little before he musters the courage to say it: ] Yes. Whatever you like. I just really want your mouth on me.

I like letting my mouth work on you.

[On your lips, on your cock, on your face, on the rest of your skin... he isn't picky. He doesn't have to be. Not with the way that he knows you, and wants every inch of you.

This is what he'll try to show you rather than tell you, by moving to take your length back into his mouth. This time, the pace he sets for himself is just a notch faster, but no less thorough.]

[ And he's shuddering as you close over him, his lips pressing together to stifle the moan that comes quicker than he can stop it. He's arching back into that mattress, hips following the rhythm you've set as his fingers tangle in your hair again, as his legs tighten around your torso, the heel of one foot gently kneading the small of your back.

The room feels both larger and more stifling as his body heats up. You've such a goddamn clever mouth and it won't be long before he's trying to breathe and finding that each breath is a choked back sob/moan/whine. His control is going to shreds. You'll be able to tell by the tightening of his stomach, the flex of his calves, and the way his thighs press against your sides as he grows full and hard in your mouth. ]

[And he'll persist, because you said that you wanted this. He also wants to feel you lose it, and taste the results for himself the moment you inevitably let go.

Granted, it has a wonderful effect on him. He finds himself having to stop to catch his breath on occasion, and there are times, of course, when his own sighs/tiny little noises of need hum against you, coming, as they are, from deep within his throat.

When you do go over that edge, though, he'll swallow everything you give to him. He'll drink you down gladly.]

[ It's the sounds you're making over/on/around him that cut at the last bits of his resolve. He might tell you one day that it's the sound of you that really gets him, even more than the sight of you, because whether its the hitch of your breath around his name as he pushes into you, or the way you whine when he's stretching you out -- your voice is an aphrodisiac.

He feels himself spill over and his fingers curl into tight fists in your hair as his body seems to cave inward: knees drawing up to press you closer, eyes shutting as his teeth worry at his bottom lip.

He can't find his voice for the first few, agonizing seconds of his release and you'll feel the tremors going through him as he rides the crest of the pleasure you've brought him.

He's quiet still when he finally falls back, chest heaving because no, there is not nearly enough oxygen in his head. ]

[And this one shudders as he takes everything that you have to offer him in. The noises he makes as he drinks up your cum might show you that he enjoys this, if the look on his face didn't already make it obvious.

He only withdraws after you're done, and leans his cheek against your thigh for just one moment before moving in again. He cleans your cock and the rest of your crotch with small, reverent laps of his tongue.]

[ You'll feel him stiffen at first in surprise, hear the sharp intake of breath as your tongue moves over him again. ]

H-Hikaru-- [ he barely gets your name out, and the sound of his voice is pleading. ]

[He doesn't respond immediately, not until he's given the tip of your cock one last swirl with his tongue. Then he turns his eyes up towards yours. His lips are still trembling, and his skin is flushed from the heat of the pleasure he is feeling.

He can still taste you in his mouth, feel how deep you went in, and still tell exactly how you fucked it.]

Tell me what to do.

[His own voice and thick, and there might be a begging note in there as well.]

[ He's looking at you as he's trying to push breath back into his lungs, and his eyes are falling to your mouth.

He pushes himself up by the elbows at that, and reaches for you, letting his thumb trace your bottom lip as the rest of his fingers curl at your chin. ]

Come here. [ He's still breathless. ] I need to kiss you.

[His obedience is written in the way his gaze turns low, and how he parts his lips immediately to let yours do what they like to his once he's close enough. You'll taste a bit of yourself in there, beyond his own.

Please don't blame him for the way he whimpers against your mouth, or how his wrists flex helplessly from where you've tied them up behind his back. It was difficult, see, not being able to touch you with anything but his mouth and his tongue, and not having any means of relieving his own building need.]

[ He's guiding you closer with his hands even as he keeps his mouth on yours, swallowing that whimper down as he feels you breathe against his lips. Yes, he can taste himself in your mouth and he exhales a sigh of pleasure once he has you where he wants you -- close enough for him to touch, his free arm come around so that his fingers are curled on the belt holding your wrists together. ]

Do you want me to...? [ Murmuring that against your skin as the fingers of his other hand ghost up your length. That's a nip at your ear, before he starts pressing light kisses on your shoulder. ]

[Is that shudder and the jerk of his hips enough of an answer. If that isn't, then maybe you can combine it with the gasp that left his lips the moment your hand went down there, and how it seems like he doesn't have the strength to lift his head from your shoulder anymore.]

Please.

[He's all sorts of needy, hot, bothered, and hopeful. He's also fully aware of the fact that even if you indulge him, it'l be on your own terms.]

[ His hand is dropping away at that, even has the other is pulling at that belt and bringing you close, your back to his chest now as he lavishes attention on your ear, tongue tracing the curves and drips of it's shape, breath warm and teeth skimming gentle right before his lips catch.

You won't be able to pull away when he tugs at that belt again and brings your hands right over his own cock, your fingers brushing the length of him. You'll hear the way a hiss leaves him, sneaking past his teeth as he presses his forehead to your shoulder, other arm coming around now to embrace you so that he's flush up against you and you are flush up against him. ]

You smell so good, [ that's murmured as he licks a path from the crook of your neck to right beneath your jaw where he presses his nose to inhale the scent of you ( and him on you. ) He's also shifting his hips so that he's rubbing up against your fingers, while the hand of the arm that has you is finally drifting down to feel you up nice and slow. ]

[And there's suddenly too much for him to focus on all over again, given the way you're holding him, what you're doing, and how he can feel the shape of you against his fingers. He'd try his best to stroke you off all over again even while he's being held against you like this, but you've done a terrible (wonderful) thing by touching him.]

A-ah...

[That's a trembling sound that ends up getting swallowed, partially, by a valiant attempt on his end to get a bit more air. He's quivering in your grip once more, and now attempting to turn his head to seek out your mouth with his.]

[ And that's when he lets that belt go, so that hand comes up to curve along your throat; his lips catching your as he presses closer, hips rolling so that he's moving the length of him against your bound hands.

Those are his fingers tightening around the swell of you against his palm, the strokes heavier, firmer, just as his kisses turn more urgent with his tongue slipping past your lips, mimicking the way he'd like to move inside of you. ]

[And this one's face must be such an interesting study, as if the rest of his body isn't enough of one for you (with the way he shudders, with how his figure fits so perfectly over your chest, with how his skin feels against yours). His eyebrows knit in tune with the small, desperate noises that you end up hitching each breath he draws in, as if he's finding it distressing to feel this good.

The grip you have on his throat shouldn't have this sort of effect on him, but you're impossibly good at stripping him down and getting past all of his defenses, LaRue.]

[ Each kiss that catches against your mouth is greedy and full of want, his tongue chasing the taste of your lips as if he cannot get enough of you. His cock is also pressed right into your hands and brushing up against where he wants to put himself to take you both over the edge. ]

Tell me, [ that's spoken with a shudder as he tightens his grip around you, each upward stroke with just a little more pressure than the last. ] Tell me what you want and I'll give you everything.

[ It's a near-echo of the words you'd spoken to him before when this was all new. ]

[That's more than enough to make him sound helpless and desperate and all sorts of gone on you. It's been ages since he's been this exposed, this strung out, this perfectly vulnerable and needy.]

Please fuck me. Please.

[He's saying that, of course, even if he isn't quite as hard as you might want him in your grip. It's likely because you're driving him crazy.]

[ He could, he really could. But the thing is, Hikaru, the honest to Elaine truth of it is that he doesn't want you begging. He doesn't want you pleading and helpless because there is no need.

Middle ground. He wants you with him, he wants you to take him with you wherever that road you walk might lead. However long, no matter the road bumps. He will walk with you for as long as he can and then some. ]

Any other day, babe, I would cave, but not tonight. [ He's tracing his thumb over the tip of you and squeezing in a manner that is both tender and yet unyielding. You're not ready. He will take you when you are. ]

You never have to beg with me. [ A nip now to your neck, the warmth of his breath right under your ear. ] You hear? [ The scrape of teeth over the skin that strains over the tendon at your neck, the hand at your throat now catching you by the chin. ]

You tell me what you want. Order me if you will, demand it of me if you want to. At the end of it all I am yours and that's that.

Edited 2014-06-05 14:15 (UTC)

[The delicious contrast between who firmly you're holding him/the decisiveness of every one of your gestures and what you're saying to him is going quite a ways towards working him up. No, he's never experienced this kind of relationship before. He's never been given the privilege of surrendering without really surrendering, and meeting someone he loves near perfectly halfway.

He swallows in a valiant attempt to get enough air to steady himself just enough to respond the way he wants to. It works, to a point.]

Then get me off, then get me hard all over again so that you can fuck me properly. Fuck me the way that you want to. Go in deep, go in hard.

[That's murmured against your skin, and you'll probably see the look he sends you through the fringe of his sweat-drenched hair.]

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