[ Matt gasps again as the plug stops moving, though this time the noise is pure surprise, a helpless byproduct of attuning himself so closely to Liem's touch and words.
And speaking of words.
That "love" sinks into him like a caress down the spine, all molten honey; Matt's answering murmurs are practically purrs. Liem may not be touching him at this exact moment--and Matt misses the contact, don't get him wrong--but he feels a lingering connection between them regardless, a thrum of static electricity.
His answer to the question lags slightly, as Matt has momentarily forgotten he can speak English--or whatever the universal translation spits out on his behalf when he isn't focusing. But his obedience is immediate. Matt's spine rolls sinuously as he stands, a slow curl and uncurl that tries to avoid moving around the plug until he absolutely has to. He straightens fully, and the plug shifts inside him, a good-strange-full feeling that gets his lashes fluttering and his teeth digging into his lower lip. ]
Mmm. [ Matt focuses on Liem's face. His own is flushed, from arousal as well as the knowledge that his body is on full display: his pebbled nipples, his stiff cock. ] It was, ah ... bracing. I'd say.
[Liem repeats the word consideringly, gentle inquisitiveness giving way to approval as he regards Matt—the unsubtle jut of his naked erection, the long line of his body, that delicious flush heating his face. He can't help but want to touch—can't help but want more than just light caresses and brief touches of lips. And so, Matt's reply is as encouraging as he might have wished for. He shifts around him, and closer, close enough for their breaths to mingle as he splays his hand over the tattoo on Matt's chest.]
I'm glad to hear it. You've certainly impressed me.
[In the silence left after the conclusion of the poem and the cessation of the toy's buzzing, he can easily hear the beating of Matt's heart, and just as easily feel its thumping beneath his palm. Liem smiles, lingering over the heady pulse of it before sliding his hand slowly, heavily downward. He leans in, their noses brushing as he stops just shy of Matt's lips.]
Do you know— [The words are murmured, each sound gently and carefully spoken.] what that means?
[ Somehow, Matt can feel his heart beat all the faster and hotter while Liem's touching him. The contact feels so cool, so steady--an anchor against the urge to crush their mouths together. Matt could almost imagine Liem's hand as a stop sign; not yet, you hot little mess.
Then his anchor starts to slip down his chest, deliberately. The way Liem leans close feels deliberate too. Close, but not touching. Matt shudders. ]
Um. It, means ...
[ God, his head feels absolutely empty right now. Matt scrounges around in its uncluttered corners. When he speaks, he tries to emulate something of Liem's crispness. His care. ]
[The answer that Matt dredges from his recently-vacated brain makes Liem smile. He's not wrong, but he's also not completely right. Still, whether or not Liem was going to reward him was never in question. He tilts his head.]
Very good.
[And he kisses him, indulgently, cupping the nape of his neck with gentle fingers. His teeth catch Matt's lower lip, teasing it as he pulls away.]
If you wanted, we could be done right now. You could tell me you've had enough of practising your discipline, and I could fuck you right here. All you have to do is ask. But…
[He leans in again, pressing a kiss sweetly, almost chastely to Matt's lower lip, then the corner of his mouth. In contrast, his fingers slide lower down Matt's belly to stop just shy of the nest of hair at the base of his cock.]
I still have something more in mind for you, if you'd like an opportunity to further apply yourself.
[ Matt's sigh against Liem's mouth is so relieved it's more like a moan. The sound grows more urgent as Liem's teeth tease at his lip, hint of sharp on wet and yielding flesh. Matt tries not to pant into Liem's face--it seems rude, or at least uncool--and to seriously contemplate his proposition--but he's being pretty distracting. Matt's lips part to receive Liem's kisses; his hips can't help hitching towards Liem's fingers in an awkward thrust.
With what feels like great effort, he goes still. Focuses on his bare feet, planted on the floor--pictures them rooted deeply down, unmovable until Liem invites them to move. He swallows another greedy sigh. ]
I can do more, [ Matt breathes at last. ] Another opportunity. [ He smiles, crooked. ] Please.
[Liem pauses to consider him for a moment, appreciating his restraint in fighting his way back to stillness. He doesn’t draw back quite yet, but he can feel the change in the steadiness beneath his palms, hear it in the rhythm of Matt’s breathing. He slides the tip of his nose briefly along his cheek and presses a kiss to the line of his jaw.]
All right. [Now he does pull back, smiling with just his eyes as he finds Matt’s gaze.] Then let’s revisit where we began.
[Liem turns back to the desk, grasps the chair, and moves it aside, well out of the way. This time, they’re going to do things a little differently. A seat isn’t necessary. He slides out some fresh paper and finds the pen with his other hand.]
You’re going to write some more lines for me. This time, I’d like to see how many you can complete.
[He writes a new line on the crisp white paper on the desk:
[ Matt nods as Liem speaks, the motions slight but eager. He cranes to follow his neat pen strokes, watching the words form--and breathes a laugh as he realizes where the line is going. ]
Ah ... of course.
[ Matt dips his head, closer to a bow of acknowledgement than another nod, and moves back to the desk. He swallows a small groan as the plug shifts. Before he can get too lost in the sensation, he wrenches his focus elsewhere, angling himself into a position where he can write without hunching too much. He picks up the pen, placing it with care over the page.
[If Liem’s eyes sparkle a little with mischief in response to Matt’s moment of recognition, at least he has the poise to avoid smirking outright. For a moment he simply watches as Matt takes his place at the desk, simply regards the first line he begins to pen onto the page, nodding slightly when it meets his approval. It’s a fine baseline from which to begin.
Then he moves from Matt’s side to stand behind him instead, trusting the quality of his continued writing efforts entirely to his desire to follow Liem’s direction. He slides one cool hand around Matt’s hip, inching toward his cock, leaning closer until he’s almost flush against his back and the bulge of his own erection is nudging against his ass. His breath feathers over Matt’s shoulder, his neck, a herald preceding the exploratory brush of cool lips against his skin. His questing fingers find Matt’s erection and slide lightly along it, encircling it loosely with gentle, unhurried strokes.
And deliberately, Liem reaches past him with his other hand in order to reclaim the toy’s remote.]
[ Matt feels Liem's hand move, feels his cock brush against him from behind, and exhales shakily. He's just finished before I’ve received permission when Liem's fingers slide up his erection and start to stroke him, and that makes the pen judder in his hand.
Fortunately, it's not touching the page at the time. Matt swallows his moan and focuses, trying to ignore how good Liem feels against him, touching him. His fingers and lips moving over some of Matt's most sensitive spots. Matt's well positioned to see where Liem's free hand is going, and tries to write quickly while he has time: I will not come before. But when he looks at what he's done, he's not satisfied with the handwriting. He can't imagine Liem will be either.
With a heavy sigh, Matt forces himself to slow down. Move more carefully. Loosen his grip on the pen, which threatens to tighten every time he stops paying attention.
[The position he’s taken behind Matt makes it difficult for Liem to see what he’s doing down on the desk, but he’s not too worried about keeping an eye on his progress. For now he’s more attuned to the rhythms of Matt’s blood and breath, to the feel of him beneath his touch as he explores his reactions. He’s not making restraint any easier on himself by teasing Matt in this way; it’s difficult to have his skin against his lips and his cock in his hand and not give in to the urge to rush ahead. But he’s already intending to make things plenty challenging for Matt, and he doesn’t want to make things too difficult all at once.
He finds the remote again, pausing the wandering if his lips against Matt’s shoulder while he flicks the plug back to life. For the space of a deep breath, the buzz of it is just as insistent as it had been for the end of the poem—Liem chooses this moment to take a brief detour from Matt’s cock and slide his hand down to his balls.
But soon enough he nudges the rumble of the toy back down to a low purr, and Liem resumes kissing his way up from Matt’s shoulder to the side of his neck. Pressing closer with a low sigh, the solid heat of Matt’s body electrifying even through the barrier of his clothes, he nibbles at the side of his throat with a teasing prick and scrape of fangs.]
[ It's not Liem's body against his that throws Matt off. It's not even the way the plug buzzes to life. Matt may feel helpless against the onslaught of sensation, a moan pouring out of him that rises and falls with the toy's vibrations, but at least he knew it was coming. No, it'd be embarrassing to admit in so many words, but the thing that throws Matt off--
That has him crashing onto one elbow on the desk, pen skittering seismically across the page--
Is the simple tease of Liem's fangs.
Matt swallows hard, heart juddering into his throat and lodging there. The plug buzzes away, pulling a whine from him. And he gasps: ]
[Liem's reflexes are uncommonly good, but he's not quite prepared for the intensity of Matt's reaction to the scrape of fangs at his neck. He feels him fumble onto the desk and hears the scratch of the pen scrawling across the page; his hand finds its way up Matt's body a rather belated moment later, resting steadily just below his chest as Liem regards him alertly.
Caution-edged surprise smooths like ruffled feathers in the time it takes Matt to breathe and speak again. Liem opts to put aside his anxieties over the use of his fangs and simply take him at his word, that he's okay and that he wants to continue. But in the absence of nerves, he's not sure whether to be sheepish or smug at the interruption.]
You're doing fine, Matt. Yes—start with a new sheet.
[He slides his hand further up to stroke the tattooed skin over Matt's juddering heart. Perhaps now was a bit of a wicked time to have teased him in that particular way. Carefully, he leans close again and presses a kiss to his neck.]
[ Go ahead and be smug, Liem. You've earned it by being hot!
Matt chuckles at himself, still breathy, before exhaling into the press of Liem's fingers. Handing over his heart on a platter, as it were. His neck arches gently under Liem's kiss.
And deliberately, breathing evenly to steady his hands, Matt flips the page to a fresh one. He sets it on top of the ruined sheet, Liem's first, pristine line peeping out over the top as a guide. Matt shakes his head very slightly. ]
I really like you using your teeth, [ he murmurs, amused. ] I liked it so much I lost focus for a second. But I'll be okay. I don't want you to stop.
[Matt’s answer earns a brief smile and a hum of wordless agreement from Liem, to the attitude of, Yes, you certainly did. He presses another kiss further up the curve of his neck, just behind the hinge of his jaw.
If Matt still doesn’t want him to avoid the use of his fangs, then that just means if it gets him into more trouble down the road, he’ll have only himself to blame. Liem can’t decide whether it’s ambition or pure stubbornness, but either way, he’s more than happy to accommodate him in this matter.]
Well, then.
[He nibbles lightly at the shell of his ear, and the fingers stroking Matt’s chest slip back down to tease once more along the length of his erection.]
Please—continue.
[And true to his word, he does return his attention to Matt’s neck, this time with a nibble that turns into a sucking, open-mouthed kiss.]
[ It's probably a bit of both, to be honest. Matt gets that gifted-kid urge to prove himself, to beat his own personal bests. But there's also a piece of him that thinks ... if he can pull this off and go the extra mile to make Liem pleased with him by the rules of the game, how thrilling will it be? It feels like submitting to him more, giving him more, to do the harder thing. Just the thought of reaching that place makes his toes curl.
Again, then: I will not come before I’ve received permission. Though Matt doesn't start for a moment. He has to wait until he's let the first ripples of pleasure from Liem's hand and that sucking kiss roll through him. Matt can't help arching against Liem, his head tipping to the side, a gasp stuttering out.
Then he sucks in a breath. Makes himself hold it. And realigns himself on the desk, gripping the pen with a firm, but not white-knuckled grasp.
I will not come ... before I’ve received permission ... ]
[The fact that Matt is trying not to get swallowed up by the pleasure of anything Liem does to him only makes it more satisfying when he feels him gasp and arch against him, and only makes Liem more eager to tempt even more from him. It's not that he wants to see Matt fail—he'll be genuinely pleased if he manages to do a good job with his writing. But he'll also be just as pleased if he doesn't. Although he instructed Matt to write more lines, he doesn't consider handsomely-penned lines to really be the goal of this exercise. The goal he wants Matt to strive for is clearly written at the top of that first, scrawled-on sheet of paper: I will not come before I've received permission. After a certain point, if he has attention left to spare for his handwriting, Liem will be very, very surprised.
And he's already so, so pleased by his effort—it bleeds sugar sweet into the kisses Liem trails over his neck and shoulder, into the impulse that has his other arm snaking about his waist as though he can't bear to keep any part of his body from Matt's skin. But his attentions aren't simply affectionate, or even just distracting. He does his best to not just tease, but to inflame; his kisses turn to the slow slide of tongue and scrape of teeth; the arm around his waist slides higher, not to steady, but to stroke and toy with Matt's nipples; his gently coaxing fingers pause for a moment to linger at the flushed head of his cock, his thumb gliding over the sensitive tip.
He tries very hard to be patient and deliberate; he doesn't want to forget himself and make Matt's task impossible. But he does want to coax a little more from him—as much as he's willing to give.]
[ Matt can feel the sweetness in Liem's kisses as readily as if they were spoken words, the intent behind them as legible as his crisp and gorgeous handwriting. Liem has always been generous when it comes to covering Matt with kisses, but Matt hasn't had anywhere near his fill of it yet. The temptation is strong to just melt against him, to rub into the scrape of teeth and hitch his hips towards his hand and go I give up, please fuck me.
That temptation only grows as Liem plays with his nipples. Thumbs at the tip of his cock. Matt definitely isn't producing good lines, and the longer he goes--the more Liem toys with him, the more insistently rigid his cock grows between his legs--the worse they get. Most of this page can't be considered handwriting so much as a fossil record of times this afternoon Liem found an erogenous zone. Matt can't hope to form words; little moans and mewls are the best he's got right now.
But he can't give up yet. Not just yet. He screws his stubbornness to the sticking point, breathes in--
La très chère était nue, et, connaissant mon coeur, Elle n'avait gardé que ses bijoux sonores,
--and writes.
I will not come before I’ve received permission. ]
[The more Matt struggles with his task, the more his breaths falter and turn to moans, the more steady and deliberate Liem’s movements become in order to contend with the wanton ache wakening inside his chest. It had been a small and slumbering thing, an ember nestled amongst cold ashes, but the more Matt feeds it, the more this restless want he can’t name threatens to scorch Liem from the inside. It brings to mind the flutter he feels when someone trusts their bared throat to his lips, in much the same way that candlelight is brought to mind by the spreading flame of an upended lantern. It beats along with his heart and spills like honey from his mouth.]
Matt… Oh, love…
[He breathes the words between kisses that fall with reverent care on the marks his mouth has made on Matt’s neck. The hand on his chest falls away, reaches smoothly for the bottle on the desk even as Liem lets out a small sigh.]
I’m impressed. If you were touching me like this, I doubt I’d have the will to focus on anything else.
[Fortunately Liem doesn’t need to focus on anything but Matt, because right now his attention is wholly on him, and on endeavouring to nudge him as close to peak as he possibly can without tipping him over. With barely a pause in his rhythm, he coats his waiting palm from the bottle and returns to stroking Matt’s cock, pumping his slickened shaft with relentless patience.]
[ There's a reedy sound, almost a whistle, for that love; a moment later, Matt recognizes it as coming from his own throat. He laughs, hoarse and sudden. ]
Ha, thanks, it's--
Honestly I'm losing my mind, so I'm glad you appreciate.
[ It's not a complaint. It's just that Matt has zero filter between his brain and his mouth right now. (Or ever, one could argue. But noticeably right now.)
He manages I will not come while Liem is occupied with whatever he's fiddling with, though the line spikes into jagged stalactites when Liem's hand--slick and knowing, firm and perfectly at ease--begins to pump him again. Matt moans, head tossing fitfully to the side. ]
Um, speaking of, I already forget--how many I was supposed to write.
[Warm approval colours his reply, even as he tips his head to chase after Matt's ear and catch the lobe gently in his teeth. The line has rather blurred between the twin pleasures of taking control from Matt's willing hands and touching more of his body. The flush and shiver of his skin against Liem's mouth, the hard heat of the erection in his hand, the little moans and movements he can't hold back all entice him onward, inflaming his desire even as they indulge it. Temptation upon temptation—all of Liem's own making. Appreciation is a small word for his feelings about Matt's participation in this experience.]
I didn't give you a number.
[Nonetheless, the end of the exercise is unquestionably drawing near. Regardless of his desires or Matt's own willingness, there is a limit to how much Liem is willing to demand of him at this juncture, particularly when his own impatience is already straining at its leash. The scrape of teeth is followed by the closing of lips around his earlobe, to stroke and suck at the skin there as he continues his smooth, insistent pumps along Matt's cock. Although he pulls his mouth away after another moment to murmur at the shell of his ear, the motion of his hand continues unabated.]
Have you taken your lines to heart, Matt? Are you going to keep being good for me?
[ Does it feel better to have Liem's teeth and tongue at his ear than to have his fingers on his cock? No, not exactly. But the attention to Matt's ear feels novel, all the nerves there plucked like waiting notes. He's shocked into a gasp of pleasure.
The questions, likewise, bypass his conscious mind and land someplace near the systems that guide his hands to move his lungs to hold and expel air. Matt breathes all in a rush, ] I will not come before I've received permission.
[ It feels hotter to say it out loud than he'd thought it would. Hotter even than standing here and suffering for Liem, absolutely struggling to accomplish the simplest tasks. Matt trembles, legs starting to wobble. His heart is hammering in his ears, haze blooming in front of his eyes. ]
[Liem feels something small and perfect and golden click into place at the sound of Matt’s breathless reply, like a skin-warmed key fitting snugly into a well-made lock; the beautiful, effortless alignment of two very small pieces of the universe. He draws a soft, sudden breath. In that moment, he suspects that there is nothing Matt could ask him for that wouldn’t tumble gladly into his possession.]
Oh—good boy.
[Finally, he ceases his steady stroking of Matt’s cock. He flicks off the low rumble of the toy that still fills him. The arm around him slides up past his waist, squeezes him gently and stills, a steadying presence against the tremors beginning to grip him. He murmurs again, tenderly.]
Good boy. That’s enough.
[He presses his cheek against the flushed skin of Matt’s neck, listening to the frantic beat of his heart in the stillness left by the absence of a buzzing toy or a scratching pen. Deliberately, he takes a deep, unhurried breath. And then, after a moment that feels longer than it is, he purrs into Matt’s ear.]
[ Matt hums for good boy when Liem says it, and hums again when he says it again. As the toy stops pulsing, he gasps--his body is so helplessly attuned to sensation now that any change draws a reaction.
A moment later, Liem's arm wraps around his waist. A firm, steady touch that seems disinclined to tease him any further, at least for now. Matt lets his weight settle, beginning to sink into his embrace. The pen dangles loosely from his fingertips. Liem's voice at his ear pulls another gasp from him, this one very soft. ]
I want you to fuck me, [ he murmurs. His head tilts, neck arching to put his ear closer to Liem's mouth. ] With your fingers, or your cock--but you. Make me come, please.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And speaking of words.
That "love" sinks into him like a caress down the spine, all molten honey; Matt's answering murmurs are practically purrs. Liem may not be touching him at this exact moment--and Matt misses the contact, don't get him wrong--but he feels a lingering connection between them regardless, a thrum of static electricity.
His answer to the question lags slightly, as Matt has momentarily forgotten he can speak English--or whatever the universal translation spits out on his behalf when he isn't focusing. But his obedience is immediate. Matt's spine rolls sinuously as he stands, a slow curl and uncurl that tries to avoid moving around the plug until he absolutely has to. He straightens fully, and the plug shifts inside him, a good-strange-full feeling that gets his lashes fluttering and his teeth digging into his lower lip. ]
Mmm. [ Matt focuses on Liem's face. His own is flushed, from arousal as well as the knowledge that his body is on full display: his pebbled nipples, his stiff cock. ] It was, ah ... bracing. I'd say.
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[Liem repeats the word consideringly, gentle inquisitiveness giving way to approval as he regards Matt—the unsubtle jut of his naked erection, the long line of his body, that delicious flush heating his face. He can't help but want to touch—can't help but want more than just light caresses and brief touches of lips. And so, Matt's reply is as encouraging as he might have wished for. He shifts around him, and closer, close enough for their breaths to mingle as he splays his hand over the tattoo on Matt's chest.]
I'm glad to hear it. You've certainly impressed me.
[In the silence left after the conclusion of the poem and the cessation of the toy's buzzing, he can easily hear the beating of Matt's heart, and just as easily feel its thumping beneath his palm. Liem smiles, lingering over the heady pulse of it before sliding his hand slowly, heavily downward. He leans in, their noses brushing as he stops just shy of Matt's lips.]
Do you know— [The words are murmured, each sound gently and carefully spoken.] what that means?
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Then his anchor starts to slip down his chest, deliberately. The way Liem leans close feels deliberate too. Close, but not touching. Matt shudders. ]
Um. It, means ...
[ God, his head feels absolutely empty right now. Matt scrounges around in its uncluttered corners. When he speaks, he tries to emulate something of Liem's crispness. His care. ]
That you can reward me?
no subject
Very good.
[And he kisses him, indulgently, cupping the nape of his neck with gentle fingers. His teeth catch Matt's lower lip, teasing it as he pulls away.]
If you wanted, we could be done right now. You could tell me you've had enough of practising your discipline, and I could fuck you right here. All you have to do is ask. But…
[He leans in again, pressing a kiss sweetly, almost chastely to Matt's lower lip, then the corner of his mouth. In contrast, his fingers slide lower down Matt's belly to stop just shy of the nest of hair at the base of his cock.]
I still have something more in mind for you, if you'd like an opportunity to further apply yourself.
no subject
With what feels like great effort, he goes still. Focuses on his bare feet, planted on the floor--pictures them rooted deeply down, unmovable until Liem invites them to move. He swallows another greedy sigh. ]
I can do more, [ Matt breathes at last. ] Another opportunity. [ He smiles, crooked. ] Please.
no subject
[Liem pauses to consider him for a moment, appreciating his restraint in fighting his way back to stillness. He doesn’t draw back quite yet, but he can feel the change in the steadiness beneath his palms, hear it in the rhythm of Matt’s breathing. He slides the tip of his nose briefly along his cheek and presses a kiss to the line of his jaw.]
All right. [Now he does pull back, smiling with just his eyes as he finds Matt’s gaze.] Then let’s revisit where we began.
[Liem turns back to the desk, grasps the chair, and moves it aside, well out of the way. This time, they’re going to do things a little differently. A seat isn’t necessary. He slides out some fresh paper and finds the pen with his other hand.]
You’re going to write some more lines for me. This time, I’d like to see how many you can complete.
[He writes a new line on the crisp white paper on the desk:
I will not come before I’ve received permission.
Gently, he lays the pen down on the desk.]
And of course—mind your handwriting.
no subject
Ah ... of course.
[ Matt dips his head, closer to a bow of acknowledgement than another nod, and moves back to the desk. He swallows a small groan as the plug shifts. Before he can get too lost in the sensation, he wrenches his focus elsewhere, angling himself into a position where he can write without hunching too much. He picks up the pen, placing it with care over the page.
And starts to write.
I will not come ... ]
no subject
Then he moves from Matt’s side to stand behind him instead, trusting the quality of his continued writing efforts entirely to his desire to follow Liem’s direction. He slides one cool hand around Matt’s hip, inching toward his cock, leaning closer until he’s almost flush against his back and the bulge of his own erection is nudging against his ass. His breath feathers over Matt’s shoulder, his neck, a herald preceding the exploratory brush of cool lips against his skin. His questing fingers find Matt’s erection and slide lightly along it, encircling it loosely with gentle, unhurried strokes.
And deliberately, Liem reaches past him with his other hand in order to reclaim the toy’s remote.]
dex save = calculated 15
Fortunately, it's not touching the page at the time. Matt swallows his moan and focuses, trying to ignore how good Liem feels against him, touching him. His fingers and lips moving over some of Matt's most sensitive spots. Matt's well positioned to see where Liem's free hand is going, and tries to write quickly while he has time: I will not come before. But when he looks at what he's done, he's not satisfied with the handwriting. He can't imagine Liem will be either.
With a heavy sigh, Matt forces himself to slow down. Move more carefully. Loosen his grip on the pen, which threatens to tighten every time he stops paying attention.
I've ... received ... permiss ]
dungeon master says: get ready for more of that
He finds the remote again, pausing the wandering if his lips against Matt’s shoulder while he flicks the plug back to life. For the space of a deep breath, the buzz of it is just as insistent as it had been for the end of the poem—Liem chooses this moment to take a brief detour from Matt’s cock and slide his hand down to his balls.
But soon enough he nudges the rumble of the toy back down to a low purr, and Liem resumes kissing his way up from Matt’s shoulder to the side of his neck. Pressing closer with a low sigh, the solid heat of Matt’s body electrifying even through the barrier of his clothes, he nibbles at the side of his throat with a teasing prick and scrape of fangs.]
he's a natural ........... 1
That has him crashing onto one elbow on the desk, pen skittering seismically across the page--
Is the simple tease of Liem's fangs.
Matt swallows hard, heart juddering into his throat and lodging there. The plug buzzes away, pulling a whine from him. And he gasps: ]
Sorry--sorry. I'm okay, I'll--
Ohh.
[ A breath. ]
Should I start a new page?
no subject
Caution-edged surprise smooths like ruffled feathers in the time it takes Matt to breathe and speak again. Liem opts to put aside his anxieties over the use of his fangs and simply take him at his word, that he's okay and that he wants to continue. But in the absence of nerves, he's not sure whether to be sheepish or smug at the interruption.]
You're doing fine, Matt. Yes—start with a new sheet.
[He slides his hand further up to stroke the tattooed skin over Matt's juddering heart. Perhaps now was a bit of a wicked time to have teased him in that particular way. Carefully, he leans close again and presses a kiss to his neck.]
Would you like me not to use my teeth?
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Matt chuckles at himself, still breathy, before exhaling into the press of Liem's fingers. Handing over his heart on a platter, as it were. His neck arches gently under Liem's kiss.
And deliberately, breathing evenly to steady his hands, Matt flips the page to a fresh one. He sets it on top of the ruined sheet, Liem's first, pristine line peeping out over the top as a guide. Matt shakes his head very slightly. ]
I really like you using your teeth, [ he murmurs, amused. ] I liked it so much I lost focus for a second. But I'll be okay. I don't want you to stop.
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If Matt still doesn’t want him to avoid the use of his fangs, then that just means if it gets him into more trouble down the road, he’ll have only himself to blame. Liem can’t decide whether it’s ambition or pure stubbornness, but either way, he’s more than happy to accommodate him in this matter.]
Well, then.
[He nibbles lightly at the shell of his ear, and the fingers stroking Matt’s chest slip back down to tease once more along the length of his erection.]
Please—continue.
[And true to his word, he does return his attention to Matt’s neck, this time with a nibble that turns into a sucking, open-mouthed kiss.]
no subject
Again, then: I will not come before I’ve received permission. Though Matt doesn't start for a moment. He has to wait until he's let the first ripples of pleasure from Liem's hand and that sucking kiss roll through him. Matt can't help arching against Liem, his head tipping to the side, a gasp stuttering out.
Then he sucks in a breath. Makes himself hold it. And realigns himself on the desk, gripping the pen with a firm, but not white-knuckled grasp.
I will not come ... before I’ve received permission ... ]
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And he's already so, so pleased by his effort—it bleeds sugar sweet into the kisses Liem trails over his neck and shoulder, into the impulse that has his other arm snaking about his waist as though he can't bear to keep any part of his body from Matt's skin. But his attentions aren't simply affectionate, or even just distracting. He does his best to not just tease, but to inflame; his kisses turn to the slow slide of tongue and scrape of teeth; the arm around his waist slides higher, not to steady, but to stroke and toy with Matt's nipples; his gently coaxing fingers pause for a moment to linger at the flushed head of his cock, his thumb gliding over the sensitive tip.
He tries very hard to be patient and deliberate; he doesn't want to forget himself and make Matt's task impossible. But he does want to coax a little more from him—as much as he's willing to give.]
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That temptation only grows as Liem plays with his nipples. Thumbs at the tip of his cock. Matt definitely isn't producing good lines, and the longer he goes--the more Liem toys with him, the more insistently rigid his cock grows between his legs--the worse they get. Most of this page can't be considered handwriting so much as a fossil record of times this afternoon Liem found an erogenous zone. Matt can't hope to form words; little moans and mewls are the best he's got right now.
But he can't give up yet. Not just yet. He screws his stubbornness to the sticking point, breathes in--
La très chère était nue, et, connaissant mon coeur,
Elle n'avait gardé que ses bijoux sonores,
--and writes.
I will not come before I’ve received permission. ]
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Matt… Oh, love…
[He breathes the words between kisses that fall with reverent care on the marks his mouth has made on Matt’s neck. The hand on his chest falls away, reaches smoothly for the bottle on the desk even as Liem lets out a small sigh.]
I’m impressed. If you were touching me like this, I doubt I’d have the will to focus on anything else.
[Fortunately Liem doesn’t need to focus on anything but Matt, because right now his attention is wholly on him, and on endeavouring to nudge him as close to peak as he possibly can without tipping him over. With barely a pause in his rhythm, he coats his waiting palm from the bottle and returns to stroking Matt’s cock, pumping his slickened shaft with relentless patience.]
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Ha, thanks, it's--
Honestly I'm losing my mind, so I'm glad you appreciate.
[ It's not a complaint. It's just that Matt has zero filter between his brain and his mouth right now. (Or ever, one could argue. But noticeably right now.)
He manages I will not come while Liem is occupied with whatever he's fiddling with, though the line spikes into jagged stalactites when Liem's hand--slick and knowing, firm and perfectly at ease--begins to pump him again. Matt moans, head tossing fitfully to the side. ]
Um, speaking of, I already forget--how many I was supposed to write.
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[Warm approval colours his reply, even as he tips his head to chase after Matt's ear and catch the lobe gently in his teeth. The line has rather blurred between the twin pleasures of taking control from Matt's willing hands and touching more of his body. The flush and shiver of his skin against Liem's mouth, the hard heat of the erection in his hand, the little moans and movements he can't hold back all entice him onward, inflaming his desire even as they indulge it. Temptation upon temptation—all of Liem's own making. Appreciation is a small word for his feelings about Matt's participation in this experience.]
I didn't give you a number.
[Nonetheless, the end of the exercise is unquestionably drawing near. Regardless of his desires or Matt's own willingness, there is a limit to how much Liem is willing to demand of him at this juncture, particularly when his own impatience is already straining at its leash. The scrape of teeth is followed by the closing of lips around his earlobe, to stroke and suck at the skin there as he continues his smooth, insistent pumps along Matt's cock. Although he pulls his mouth away after another moment to murmur at the shell of his ear, the motion of his hand continues unabated.]
Have you taken your lines to heart, Matt? Are you going to keep being good for me?
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The questions, likewise, bypass his conscious mind and land someplace near the systems that guide his hands to move his lungs to hold and expel air. Matt breathes all in a rush, ] I will not come before I've received permission.
[ It feels hotter to say it out loud than he'd thought it would. Hotter even than standing here and suffering for Liem, absolutely struggling to accomplish the simplest tasks. Matt trembles, legs starting to wobble. His heart is hammering in his ears, haze blooming in front of his eyes. ]
Please, bunny.
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Oh—good boy.
[Finally, he ceases his steady stroking of Matt’s cock. He flicks off the low rumble of the toy that still fills him. The arm around him slides up past his waist, squeezes him gently and stills, a steadying presence against the tremors beginning to grip him. He murmurs again, tenderly.]
Good boy. That’s enough.
[He presses his cheek against the flushed skin of Matt’s neck, listening to the frantic beat of his heart in the stillness left by the absence of a buzzing toy or a scratching pen. Deliberately, he takes a deep, unhurried breath. And then, after a moment that feels longer than it is, he purrs into Matt’s ear.]
Matt. Tell me what you want.
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A moment later, Liem's arm wraps around his waist. A firm, steady touch that seems disinclined to tease him any further, at least for now. Matt lets his weight settle, beginning to sink into his embrace. The pen dangles loosely from his fingertips. Liem's voice at his ear pulls another gasp from him, this one very soft. ]
I want you to fuck me, [ he murmurs. His head tilts, neck arching to put his ear closer to Liem's mouth. ] With your fingers, or your cock--but you. Make me come, please.