sterngaze | open post

[Not so very long ago, Liem might not have let Cardan do this with him. Even setting aside that thorny interlude in their bathroom, there’s a limit to how vulnerable he wants to be with a lover he’s only recently met — and this is more intimate a thing than he’d trust most with. Certainly it’s more than he’d think to trust to a stranger he only married to seal one of his father’s agreements, no matter how charming and irresistible he might be capable of being.

But now, he cannot imagine anything he desires more, foolish though that might be.

And now, his desire has nowhere to go. Again it pours into him and fills him up, and again Cardan refuses him release, even as the press of his body against him makes Liem’s need all the more impossible to escape from. The ache of it makes him whimper, then swear, clutching tighter at the lean stretch of Cardan’s back. He wants—

He wants to bite him. The racing of his pulse beats in Liem’s ears, thrums against his skin. He is so warm and so close: just a small tug closer and a tip of his head away. The threatening swell of pleasure is so intense that he can’t think of anything else, can only tremble for one long, desperate moment as he drowns in the hot, pulsing vitality of the man keeping him pinned to the bed.

He forces himself to open his eyes, so he can find Cardan’s black gaze and fall into it instead. One hand drags its way up Cardan’s spine to cup the nape of his neck, keeping him close as the ache in his body finally eases. And as the tension gripping him relaxes its hold, he slides his hand down, strokes a thumb along Cardan’s cheekbone.]

You have such a talent, [he murmurs,] for making me desire you.

Mm-- [ He arches into the strength of those hands, eager for their bite. It should have hurt, he knows, given how much he had ached just before the Nevermore's golden haze, but now, here, all he feels is desperate yearning need. It's absurd to be like this already; whatever tenuous control he might have had on his desires has dissipated, washed away like foam on a sandy shore. He thinks back on that first night, the life he'd imagined with his strange, quiet groom, and marvels at what a fool he had been.

At least he's not the only one. ]

...how much difficulty that must present for you.

[ It may have been snippy if not for the solemn tilt of his face into that hand and the softness of his mouth on Liem's palm. He is sure that a lack of desire for him would have made his husband's life much easier.

Cardan isn't going to take any of it back.

What he is going to do is address multiple issues. One: he is piteously, achingly hard. As it turns out, it is impossible to tease Liem without also testing his own patience, and while Cardan is committed to the cause, he intends to tend to some of his more acute wants, too.

Two: the bed is too large, and they are right in its middle.

Cardan huffs, annoyed, but emergent problems require decisive solutions. He'll sneak an arm between Liem's back and the sheets, cradling him close-- before he rolls them over so that it's Cardan who lands on his back. And if there's any discomfort, it is dulled by the shift of Liem's body against his own, by the weight of him on top of Cardan -- novel in a way that makes him gasp and then grin, slow and indulgent. He's greedy to touch him, to run his hands over the elegant muscle of Liem's back and unabashedly grab at his ass, long fingers curling over his body.

It will also put him in range of his nightstand, which he will reach for. In a moment. Once he's done with his thorough, unhurried exploration of his spouse. ]

[It is difficult, actually. It's been distractingly and consistently difficult for Liem to keep his life in order with Cardan in it, so provocatively desirable and quietly intriguing. He's been distracted from work, he's missed sleep, he's been late to engagements because of it.

But — although not wanting Cardan would unquestionably make his life simpler, it wouldn't make him any less lonely.

(He is still lonely. It's only that the warm press of soft lips against his skin is a balm to his loneliness where it stings worst.)

And it is far too late now for him to be regretting his irrepressible desire for his husband, or worrying about the way it only seems to grow more insistent the more time he spends in Cardan's company. Instead he cleaves closer to him when that arm snakes around his back, and very nearly purrs when the press and slide of Cardan's body against his results in the novel pleasure of finding himself draped over him.

This is a tempting position to find himself in. It is not so very unlike the fantasies he's entertained on the occasions when Cardan has been especially free with idle commentary while lounging in his office — except that in those fancies they had always still been clothed, and space was rather more at a premium.

Now there is nothing at all to stop him from exploring Cardan's chest with the heavy slide of fingers and palm, while he leans in to smear a line of kisses over his jaw. And if he rolls his hips against him when Cardan grabs at his ass, it's because he's hungry for the feel of him, now that he finally finds himself here without the barrier of clothes between them.]

[ It's dangerous. It's so dangerous to let tenderness creep into his touch, to feel the warmth of affection bloom in the wake of Liem's mouth and the caress of his hands. Cardan aches for it anyway, the same way he has for weeks.

Maybe it's lucky that they'll have greater perils to contend with, once this is all over.

He tips his chin up, offering Liem the white line of his throat with its hammering pulse and impertinent heat. It's not an accident; he knows what he's doing. They haven't talked about it since the argument on the hillside, and that had hardly been conclusive. The frustration of it has simmered ever since, especially since Cardan keeps having to field the vampire gentry's nosy inquiries about Liem's snacking habits. He wants it. He wants the danger of those sharp fangs with a shivery, self-destructive intensity.

So: if his husband isn't going to bite him, he'll have to endure this tease, too.

And when Liem's hips grind against his, he cannot help but want to linger on the feeling, on the electric charge of need that runs through him. So he urges him to do it again, hands moving him into the delicious slide of skin against skin, finally, after what feels like so long-- ]

[At the tilt of Cardan's jaw, exposing the line of his throat to the attentions of Liem's mouth, Liem lets out a sigh and brushes his lips over the soft skin there. The offer of his bare throat is bewitching; it beckons him with a familiar ache, and an erotic urgency that he is not used to associating with a partner. Finding the pulse just beneath Cardan's jaw, he presses a tender, deliberate kiss there, lingering over the tempting flutter beneath his lips.

With anyone else, he would use his teeth. On another day, he might still have done. But he still recalls how Cardan's clothes had been sticky with blood when he'd peeled them from his back, and he still recalls his silken forbiddance days ago on that quiet hillside: that he not tease what he has no intention of following through with.

Well, he cannot bite his husband now — cannot even pretend that he might.

But neither can he resist the desire, so strong it sends a wanting shiver all the way down his spine, to map that vulnerable throat with his mouth. The taste of hot skin only makes his frustration more intense, only teases him so that as he moves his hips at Cardan's urging, the indulgent friction between them has him helplessly, desperately eager yet again.

He cannot help it; he is drawn as if by gravity to those tender, fragile parts. The press of his mouth at Cardan's throat is not warm — but it is both ardent and gentle as he trails kisses along it, with patience the rest of him cannot match.]

[ His world narrows to a sharp focus on the cool mouth pressing to his throat; Cardan breathes in, carefully-- but the sharp bite of teeth never comes, and he does feel a soft pang of want at their absence. Still, it is drowned easily enough by Liem's careful, deliberate attention, and he doesn't know when he's become so desperate for that, either.

...no, that's a lie. He knows when it started: that first night when Liem watched him undress and vent his spite, and didn't touch him even so.

They are far past that now, at any rate. Everywhere Liem caresses, Cardan seems to grow warmer, as if in defiance to the coolness of his hands, his mouth, the increasingly impatient slide of their bodies against each other-- soon he might just light aflame altogether. In the meantime, he will only close his eyes and press his head back into the pillows, one of his hands flying up to tangle in Liem's hair--

And the other will hold him still, fingers suddenly biting down hard where they curl over his hip. It's for Cardan's sake this time. He is too keen, too ablaze with sensation, teetering dangerously close to the edge. His own teeth bite into his lip as he trembles with it, and the dark tail coils aimlessly over the sheets, agitated.

Not yet.

Not yet-- ]

[Liem truly is a fool if he'd ever thought that by having sex with Cardan, he might crowd his yearning for him out of his head. He is so full of want for him that it cannot help but spill out, wine-sweet: in the hungry caress of his lips, in the wandering of his hands, in the motion of his hips against him, seeking more heat, more friction, more.

(Beneath the want, tender like a bruise: relief at having Cardan here, pressed against his sheets, at the mercy of his gentle hands and his gentle mouth. He does not wish to contemplate the blade that nearly found its home between his husband's ribs, or Cardan's petition to end their marriage and his time under Liem's protection. He does not wish to contemplate the feeling that his spouse might vanish from his life at a moment's notice, regardless of his efforts to keep him there.)

He does not think of those things as he sucks a bruise into the soft skin of Cardan's throat, or as long fingers bite into his hip and he stills, taut with barely restrained need, to endure the torturous pleasure of Cardan's body trembling against his own. He gasps, lifts his head; but he can still taste his skin, and still feel him hot and hard against him, and still hear his heart beating in his chest. His free hand clutches feverishly at the sheets.

And as his eyes roam Cardan's face, it is naked, animal longing that fills them.]

[ It takes Cardan some time to dare open his eyes again, and he almost wishes he didn't; the look on Liem's face pangs through him with aching heat. It makes him feel bare, pinned down in a way he cannot remember feeling for quite some time. Maybe it's because Liem looks at him the way Cardan feels. Maybe he'd always known it would be like this: a wildfire, out of control as soon as it started. Maybe they will both just burn up with it, and Dain won't have to worry about assassinating either of them anymore.

Or maybe Cardan knows nothing at all.

But he will take Liem's face in his hands and press up until his lips brush Liem's, feather-light, his breath rushing out of him like waves on a rocky shore. ]

I want to tell you so many foolish things.

[ Cardan's little smile is rueful. He'll kiss Liem as a precaution against the words that threaten to spill from him, words like don't stop and you're beautiful and now that I've started wanting you, I don't know if I can stop. And if it's tender, then it's only so because Liem had started it, had been stubbornly gentle even where Cardan is full of sharp, cruel edges.

He gropes for the nightstand drawer blindly, though it makes no difference -- Cardan knows well what he's looking for. It's another vial, this one not with a powder but an oil that warms quick and silken against the skin. He closes his fingers around the bottle, and when he pulls back to ask, he will have regained enough composure to look every bit the charming prince asking for a dance. ]

May I?

[ Except, of course, that he's asking for permission to do the aforementioned fucking Liem open. ]

[If Cardan is beset with foolish wants, at least he has company. Liem cannot think around the terrible seduction of warm hands cupping his face and lips brushing against his own; if he opened his mouth at that moment, there is no telling what he might speak into existence. So he melts into Cardan's kiss with something like sympathy and something like relief, and thankfully he doesn't have the presence of mind to sort out why.

Of course, on some level he knows. The promises between them are temporary at best, and self-destructive at worst. Their marriage bed is barren; the kisses they trade in it are stolen, cannot possibly bear fruit.

But he will take Cardan's kisses nonetheless. He will take his tenderness and his want, his wickedness and his desperation. He wants all of it, now, while the promise of it is alive and breathing beneath his hands. That promise holds him close until Cardan reaches away to retrieve the vial tucked into his nightstand, until he graces Liem with a smile that is charming instead of rueful.]

Please do.

[He makes it sound like a request, like a favour, even though he's the one being asked for permission. His nose brushes Cardan's with a gentle tilt of his head; his eyes, on his husband's, are quietly intent.]

I want you to.

[ He didn't expect to be rebuffed, but the cadence of Liem's I want you to still shivers through him with pleased impatience. How long have they both waited? Too long by far.

He will wind an arm around Liem's trim waist and then push himself into a sitting position, his breath hitching at the friction of their bodies, at the shift of Liem's weight on top of him. It's a little extra effort, to stay sitting, but it will make it easier to see his husband's face, and besides-- he's never had Liem splayed across his lap before.

The thought curls his mouth in a pleased grin. He will kiss that aristocratic nose as he unstoppers the bottle; the next time he reaches between their bodies to wrap fingers around them both, they will be slippery. Cardan strokes them at a lazy, unhurried pace-- because he doesn't think either of them can take much more than that, and he does want to fuck Liem still.

Oh, does he want to fuck Liem.

In service of this noble goal, his other hand finds its way around the lithe body on top of his, slick fingers trailing down to find his entrance. He doesn't press inside -- not yet -- only rubs slick fingertips against velvet-soft skin, committed to teasing even now. It is odd to feel an absence of heat even there; he wonders if his touch feels hot to Liem the same way Liem feels cool to him.

His eyes are on his husband's face, unerring in their focus. ]

[Liem has spent a substantial amount of the time he's been married quietly wanting his husband on top of him — perhaps especially in conjunction with the prospect of being ruined — but as he pushes upright, he finds that being in Cardan's lap is actually no less titillating. As he adjusts his position so he's better-straddling him, shivering at the stroke of warm skin against his own, Cardan's expression slides into him with silken promise.

Never has a kiss to the nose felt laden with such licentious intent.

He wants Cardan close, so when slick fingers curl once again around the both of them, Liem slides an arm over his shoulders and leans nearer, pressing their foreheads together. It's ridiculous to feel taken care of when they're simply buying a few hours of pleasure with a day's decent sleep, when his time at Cardan's mercy has been frustration more than balm — but he does. He submits to the care of those warm hands with eagerness he can't find it in him to even be embarrassed about, sighing at the slip of fingertips teasing over sensitive skin, and slides his other hand up Cardan's neck to cup his face.

He wants Cardan to fuck him. He wants those long fingers and that handsome cock; he wants to be filled up so he can't think of anything but him; he wants Cardan to drag him right to the edge and leave him there gasping; he wants him to shove him over. He wants everything, sooner or later — as long as Cardan keeps watching him. And as long as Cardan keeps wanting him.]

[ Whenever Liem's hands touch his face, he wants to kiss those pale fingers, to press his mouth to Liem's palm, feather-soft and tender. It's strange to want this in a union such as theirs. But then, so many other things have been strange tonight; already the dinner feels like it happened a fortnight and an eternity ago.

He had imagined this differently, somehow-- less quiet, more frantic, bodies snarling against each other in desperate rhythm. It may have happened this way in that shaded, quiet parlour, but Liem's hand on his face stokes a different kind of impatience. Cardan wants to see him, wants to share this in the breath between them, wants to be deliberate about it.

When he presses inside, it is on the upstroke of his hand, and he shudders with that too-- the tightness of him, the reluctant give of a body that hasn't been fucked in a while. And though he wants to watch, he can't resist catching Liem's mouth in another hungry kiss and then another, too caught up in his treacherous longing. ]

I want to fuck you so much, [ he tells Liem between kisses, as if it's a secret, as if Cardan's fingers aren't currently working him open for his cock.

Then again, sometimes there's value in confession. ]

[When Cardan does press inside him, the sudden intrusion makes Liem's breath catch in his throat, but it's the unfamiliar heat that makes that breath slide out a moment later, a soft and unsteady oh. It's been longer than he cares to remember since anyone fucked him; he tries deliberately to relax into Cardan's touch, to yield to those long fingers and let go of the tension that, most nights, steeps him down to his bones. It helps that the shockingly warm slide of slick skin there already feels irresistible.

And distracting — or it would be, had Liem any thoughts left to be distracted from. But he is so thoroughly beset by desire, so completely alight with it that he cannot think of anything at all except the pleasure of Cardan's body moving against his and the tide of heated kisses that he's currently drowning under. Liem drinks them greedily down, his thumb stroking gently over Cardan's cheekbone with almost possessive tenderness.

And a shiver of unbearable excitement takes him at the sound of Cardan's murmured confession.]

Oh— I want it.

[He is breathless with sensation as he nibbles, wanting, at his mouth.]

Your desire. Cardan, I want it all for myself.

[ I want it all thrums through him with a seductive pang. It is strange to desire possessiveness -- for most of his life, all Cardan has wanted was freedom -- but something about Liem's tender hands and measured honesty makes Cardan want his. Maybe it's because he's pledged his life to preserve Cardan's, despite all advice. Maybe it's just because he doesn't seem like a man who gets covetous very often.

It feels like something rare. ]

How fortunate that it is yours to command.

[ It must be true. Even if it weren't for the wedding bands on both their hands, Cardan's world has entirely narrowed to Liem's weight in his lap and the tight clutch of his body around his fingers, to the promise and tease of those sharp teeth, to the hold of Liem's arm around his shoulders. How could Cardan not feel it, that urgent desperation to have him? What man could not be greedy for this? He breathes out, unsteady, strained with the impatience of waiting, of loosening the tight hold of Liem's body to stoke only his pleasure, only need and not pain. Even so, his hands stay steady; even so, his inexorable rhythm never stutters. His focus on Liem is absolute, almost feverishly intent.

He'd promised Liem that he'd think of no one and nothing else, but it seems like the converse is true for Cardan, too. ]

[Cardan's reply sends a thrill down Liem's spine, shivery and heated and hopelessly eager, and for a moment the arm around his shoulders clutches just that much tighter. He cannot recall the last time he made such a demand of anyone — and if he had the focus to spare for such an endeavour, he still wouldn't want to. In any case, it has been a long time since he laid claim to any of his lovers, even in part.

Because it's habit by now to avoid letting himself feel so greedy. Walking away satisfied is easier when all he lets himself desire from his lovers is their touch. Keeping clear of traps is easier when he doesn't let his wants lead him trailing after just one person. And he had been clear, when he'd married Cardan, that he didn't want to possess him. He had told himself not only that Cardan was not his creature, but that he did not want him to be.

But he cannot submit to Cardan's touch without desperately wanting more of it. He cannot hold him close without feeling the urge to keep him there. And if Cardan's desire is his to command, he cannot help the urge clutch at that scrap of power over him, even if it be short lived. God knows he's yielded more than just his desires to Cardan already.

So for now, he is greedy. While the sun is still showing its face, while the house still sleeps around them, while they remain alone and unshackled by the estate's endless demands, he is greedy for his husband. He is greedy for his unsteady breath and his intent regard and the relentless, unhurried slide of his fingers as he uses them to fuck him open. He covets all of it, even as his breaths falter and catch, and the slow pace Cardan cleaves to fills him almost unbearably with impatience.]

[ Cardan had many ambitious plans for this moment: he'd thought of his name on Liem's lips, thought of making him beg, thought of all the soft, menacing things he might do to him once they were alone, with no work papers or impertinent seneschals or demanding family crises.

As usually happens, the reality of his own desire has dashed those plans quite thoroughly. His own impatience builds, and though his hands don't stutter, Liem's hard hold on him only further shakes his resolve. Cardan wants nothing but his greed, nothing but his want, wants all the ways in which it reflects his own, more desperately than he thought himself capable of-- ]

Liem.

[ His voice is a little rough with it. He presses his mouth to Liem's jaw, draws a line of breathless kisses up to his silvery temple-- Even now, even so, he needs the moment to compose himself. ]

You need to tell me when--

[ And it needs to be soon, he doesn't say, because surely it's embarrassingly obvious in his voice, in the rapid beat of his heart, in the way his tail lashes over the sheets. ]

Mm— [Liem tilts his jaw into the press of Cardan's mouth, those breathless kisses that leave his skin feeling electrified in their wake. His fingers slide back, over the shell of one pointed ear and into soft, dark hair.] Yes: soon. Soon—

[His hands move restlessly, distracted as he tries not to make Cardan's endeavour harder than it already is. The seductive slide of skin against skin and the heedless drumming of his husband's heart only make him increasingly impatient for more than just slick hands and wandering lips — but his eagerness does nothing to ease the tight clutch of his body. He breathes another unsteady breath, draws in the scent of growing things, and tries very hard to be patient.

Of course, patience is impossible. He can't be anything but impatient while he's splayed over Cardan's lap, with that night's fervent promise still echoed in every stroke of his fingers and every flutter of warm breath against Liem's skin. But those fingers do still coax him open, despite the seeming contradiction of Liem's relentless, desperate need with the way Cardan's touch makes him want to simply melt against him.

He had not been expecting his hunger for his husband's ardour to be shot through so intensely with the distracting desire for his tenderness.]

Now. Please, [he breathes, resisting the urge to squirm into Cardan's touch. He aches so fiercely with longing that he's surprised his breaths don't drip with it.] Cardan…

[ It is truly stupid: Cardan considers himself to be a skillful, composed lover, and yet Liem seems to have shattered most of his self-control simply by being first unavailable, and then far too eager to show Cardan kindness when he didn't deserve it. He doesn't know what to do with his embarrassingly keen desire now; it seems to pour from him, caught in his unsteady breath and the way his heart speeds at the sound of his name on Liem's voice.

He doesn't -- cannot -- hesitate. As soon as Liem tells him, he lets go of them both, nearly whimpering with the loss of friction-- swallows, hard, as he pulls his fingers from Liem's tight body so he can urge his husband up. Up, Cardan's hands smoothing up the back of his thighs to pull him closer, to maneuver their bodies into place until his erection presses up against Liem, slick with oil and straining for him.

Cardan's smile is a little shaken. He'd made a bold promise; how funny that the one getting ruined by desire might be himself. And even so, he wants to keep them there just for a moment longer, poised at the cusp of fucking--

But not long. Not long at all, and his teeth bite into his lip when he finally, finally urges Liem down, and the effort of going slow nearly steals the breath from his lungs. It's going to show in his face, he's sure: all of his desperate, greedy want, all of the ways in which he's barely holding on to a semblance of control. It will show in the harsh rise of his chest and the way he has to work to keep his grip on Liem from being biting.

It will show, probably, in the way Cardan looks at him: like he's the only person who's ever mattered, and now that Cardan has him, he's afraid to take his eyes off of him again. ]

[Liem can't help it. Even though he's expecting it, he still aches with the sudden loss when Cardan's hand releases the both of them, and still has to bite back a groan as the slick fingers inside him slide free, leaving him empty. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't possibly refuse the warm touch coaxing him up; his own hands slide restlessly, covetously over his husband's shoulders as he rises to pause with Cardan's erection just kissing his entrance.

The ache of longing inside him makes the moment that Cardan holds them there feel endless.]

Cardan.

[He says it again, breathlessly, as he stares down at his husband with want written plain across his face.

Then, finally, Cardan eases him down onto his cock, and the hard, hot length of it filling him up inch-by-inch makes his eyes go wide. He is shockingly, feverishly warm, which only adds another, demanding layer of sensation to the already gorgeous slide of him pressing further inside. Liem's fingers tangle in Cardan's hair as he slides down, first cautiously, and then with a small, unbidden moan as he finally takes him all the way to the hilt.

He realizes his eyes have fallen closed, and when he opens them again, the look in his husband's pierces right through him. Liem cannot weather that look like this: breathless and desperate and already full of nothing but him. He can't — so he steals a kiss from him and then another, greedy and helpless with wanting.

But at least using his mouth for this keeps him from using it to keep murmuring his husband's name aloud.]

[ He'd expected his marriage to be frustrating, difficult, even painful. No one had told him it would also be like this: caught beneath Liem's weight and his hands and his mouth, trapped by the glorious, dizzying feeling of being sheathed inside of him, of feeling his body stretch to accommodate Cardan's cock. No one had told him that it would feel this good to want so much, that this strange serious man whom he'd dismissed long before their betrothal could cause such an avalanche of feeling.

No, no one had warned him that it would be anything like this.

When Liem shifts forward to kiss him, Cardan's entire body arches towards his touch, even as his hands clutch at Liem's hips in reaction to the minute movement. The sound that escapes him is entirely wanton; it feels like every nerve in his body is alight with Liem and Liem alone. If his husband is worried about leaving his mouth unoccupied, he ought not to be: Cardan will chase after his kisses, will catch his mouth again and again, all teeth and feral, hungry need.

He wants to stay like this forever, and he also wants to move more desperately than breathing. So he chooses the latter -- leaning back on one arm so he can rock his hips up into the tight clutch of Liem's body, and even that much is enough to tear a helpless gasp from his throat.

Cardan's hand finds Liem's face -- thumb smearing over his cheek, his lips, the gesture on the knife's edge between tender and possessive. His eyes are a little unfocused. ]

Please.

[ He breathes it like a prayer, though no such things exist in Elfhame. ]

[Kissing Cardan the very first time was frustrating because of how shockingly natural it felt; how easy it was to want to kiss him again even as a stranger. Kissing Cardan now is still frustrating, because Liem cannot kiss him enough; he's been filled up completely with him, and still he has room for that helpless and aching want for more. He doesn't know how to sate it. Perhaps nothing even can.

Certainly the want doesn't lessen when Cardan pulls away to brace himself against the bed, even when the movement of his hips pulls a low, breathlessly eager sound from Liem's throat. He squirms down, into the sensation, unable for one pleasure-soaked moment to do anything but. His eyes are locked tight on Cardan's as he tips his head, pressing into the touch of the warm hand on his face.

He doesn't make him wait long. Liem's hands drag down Cardan's chest as he shifts up, just enough to move with the next roll of hips, to meet it more fully. The slide of his cock fucking into him makes the urgent breaths moving in his own chest catch and stutter. But although his lashes flutter, and although the pleasure-drowned look in his eyes is dangerously close to adoration, Liem doesn't let his gaze slip from Cardan's face.]

[ The look on Liem's face pierces through him. Cardan has spent the past month watching Liem's face for reactions -- from surprised to flustered to wanting -- but never has he looked at Cardan like this. It goes straight to his cock, the pang of desire so hot and heavy he's certain Liem must feel the way Cardan throbs with it, the way his breath stutters in his chest.

For a moment, all he hears is the thundering of his own heart, calmed not at all by the touch of those cool hands. They leave goosebumps in their wake even as his hips find a rhythm for fitting their bodies together, chasing pleasure upon pleasure. Still, he wants--

His fingers slip through the short hair at the back of Liem's head just before Cardan pulls him in close. He wants to look, to catalogue every expression on Liem's face, but he yearns to kiss him, too, wants him close enough to feel his errant breaths and the slide of his erection between their bodies as they fuck. ]

This is-- so dangerous...

[ The words tumble out unbidden, breathed out on the upstroke of a thrust. His little smile is wry. ]

[Now that Liem has Cardan exactly where he wanted him — greedy and wanting and not entirely steady, not entirely composed despite that wry little twist of his mouth — he finds there is nothing else he desires more. He wants this moment to stretch forever, with just the uncomplicated slide of their bodies, the drumming of his husband's heart and the warmth of his fingers in his hair. Even through the relentless swell of his own pleasure and the helpless desire chasing after it, he can't help but want to stay right here, caught by the trap of Cardan's eyes and hands and body and breath.

When he's pulled closer, Liem goes easily, sliding an arm around him, with a gasp when Cardan fucks into him as the angle between their bodies shifts. With a pleased hum, he tips his head to press a kiss to the corner of that wry, smiling mouth.]

For whom?

[Because he could easily imagine how this might be dangerous for him, consumed as he is with every bit of pleasure that shivers through him. The warmth of Cardan's breath against his skin is tantalizing; the slide of him against the slick length of Liem's untended erection makes him shudder with want. He can't imagine anything he wouldn't do for Cardan if he asked now, or any truth he wouldn't confess.

But rather than awaiting an answer, he kisses him again, far more tempted by the immediate promise of his lips.]

[ Cardan laughs breathlessly against the press of Liem's mouth, right before hunger distracts him. But the question lingers, and when he pulls back to swipe his tongue over Liem's lower lip, the expression on his face is somewhere between saucy and bemused. ]

You're not supposed to ask me that.

[ Rude, really, to make him answer questions he has no lies for -- not that Liem is making him do anything. Nothing except the relentless push of Cardan's hips up into his body, except the press of his mouth over Liem's ear, so Liem can hear the little gasp in his breath each time Cardan thrusts inside. Nothing, except that Cardan is so hot and hypersensitized and heady with longing that he might well betray something he ought not to.

His hand slips from Liem's hair, finds its way between their bodies to stroke Liem's cock. All the better to distract him from his inconvenient questions -- to get Cardan more of those shivers, of the way he feels them run through him, of the silken way his body clutches at Cardan when he moves in him-- ]

[Even mid-fuck, Cardan is still disarmingly, dangerously charming. Perhaps even more so than usual, given the delightfully breathless quality of that little laugh, the rare honesty in his bemused objection. Liem has seen more of his husband's candid side in the past night than he has in the entire time they've known each other — and like any predator, he is drawn to what is unarmoured and bare, especially when he has been too often met only with thorns.

His lips curve into a smile, even as he tips his ear toward the warm caress of Cardan's mouth. What a terribly delightful, irresistible man he has married.

And what a menace, also. Liem's breath catches on a soft gasp when Cardan's fingers once again find his cock, and he clutches tighter about his shoulders with a small, helpless moan as those fingers return to working him. He is more than distracted from his previous line of questioning; as he moves against Cardan, chasing those waves of sensation with greed that borders on compulsion, thoughts of anything else at all flee his head completely.]

Oh god, [he breathes.] Don't stop.

[And, moving with the rhythm of Cardan's hips, of his hand, he is again swamped by the rising tide of his pleasure, so ruthlessly that he digs a fang into his lip and tastes blood.]

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