[Liem can think of far worse fates than to be tormented at his husband’s whim, whether it be for an hour or two, or again and again over the course of days. He cannot resist the seductive pull of it; he cannot think of a time, even from the very first, when Cardan’s demands didn’t make desire shiver beneath his skin, or when the weight of his husband’s body against his didn’t make all other thoughts flee from his head, however briefly.
It is the same now: the pliant way he shifts at the coaxing of Cardan’s hands; the soft, wanting breath that sighs from him as Cardan’s heated kisses wander his skin; the familiar, hungry eagerness that flares in his belly at the provocative stroke of warm fingers and the press of Cardan against him. He wants all of it, has to suppress his own impatience for more—though he cannot entirely smother the needy whine that slips out when his husband teases his desperately-hard cock. It has just been far too long already since he let his husband touch him; all of the wanting that he’d been denying for nights on end now seems to spill from him all at once.]
Always, [he breathes, and then swallows a moan as Cardan fucks into him. He is now, as ever, Cardan’s to do with as he pleases—because Liem cannot, regardless of his efforts, deny the helpless bliss of being desired. And the feverish heat with which his husband desires him is blissful indeed to weather, even if it is a torment.] Cardan…
[ He feels desperate with desire. The stretch of Liem's lithe body beneath his own, the way Cardan can feel every sigh and tremble, can press close and closer still -- it's so perfect that it should rightly distress him. He breathes in the delicate scent of Liem's shampoo and feels a strange, incongruent ache settle behind his ribs.
His arm wraps around his lover; he wants to leave no distance at all between them. He wants to never let him leave the bed nor Cardan's embrace, never be claimed by frivolities like parties or work or even plotting to save both their lives. ]
Always, [ he agrees, his voice rough as his mouth moves against the shell of Liem's ear. There is a thrill in having him exposed to Cardan's voice, to his mouth and his teeth, vulnerable to his desires even here. A thrill, too, in how he knows that Liem will hear his breath stutter with need when he moves, fucking back into him with insistent tenderness. ]
I shall give you no-- hah-- no peace from me, Liem Talbott. Not until you beg me to cease.
[ Wild, untamable affection mingles in his chest with a strangely painful need. Liem's scent, the sound of his voice, even his fussiness about keeping Cardan healthy -- he wants to cradle those things to him like treasures, to curl atop them like a dragon with a hoard. There is a moment of clarity: he recognizes the feeling, and feels a shard of terror slice through him.
But that, too, is swept away by raw need. His palm presses against Liem's chest, smooths down his stomach to wrap around his cock again, urgent. He is so pliant and eager under Cardan's hands; how could he not crave this, always? ]
[Something about Cardan’s presence behind him always seems to make Liem especially sensitive to touch: to the tease of Cardan’s mouth and the press of his body and the deliberate wandering of his hands. His wanting seems heightened with his husband fitted against his back like this, his arm wrapped around him and his lips brushing his ear. Liem cannot help but arch against him, greedy for the feel of his lover pressed close.
Always he wants to feel more: to feel not just desired, not just coveted, but possessed. He wants the unsteady cadence of Cardan’s breaths as he fucks him, and the wild beating of Cardan’s heart thumping against him, and the greedy clasp of his arm keeping him close. He wants his menace and his obsession. He cannot stop wanting.
He can only tremble at the deliberate transit of the hand down his body, and then moan in earnest this time as Cardan once again wraps insistent fingers around his cock.]
Ah— Why… [Even when he tips his head, he cannot really see his husband—but he’s compelled to try nonetheless.] Why would I wish for that?
[ Cardan’s breathless laugh breaks against Liem’s shoulder. He wishes he had more hands, that he didn’t need to brace himself against the bed— he wants to curl greedy fingers over Liem’s jaw, his throat, awful with possessive need. He wants more of Liem’s moans, wants to drive him a little insane — because Cardan clearly already is. ]
You are indomitable. Wherever did I find you?
[ It occurs to him, not for the first time, that no one would ever have wed them, had they known how well the union would work. He cannot recall a time when he had worked so hard for someone’s pleasure and been so glad of the labour.
He does not bother with subtlety; he can’t, not with the way his own need has set every nerve in his body on fire, not with the tight grip of Liem’s body making him feel like he’s losing his mind. His mouth smears over his lover’s shoulder, the crook of his neck. The grip of his hand is tight, moving in time with each indulgent stroke of his hips, and with each one his pleasure closes in, relentless and inescapable. ]
My dearest victim—
[ His, his alone to torment and tease and trouble and soothe, too, when his cruelties have run their course. He cannot care if he deserves Liem, cannot be unselfish about this even a little bit.
He doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want it to end—
His teeth sink into Liem’s shoulder, and he cannot help that either. ]
[Maybe Liem’s eyelids are heavy with his exhaustion, and maybe it is cruel of Cardan to demand his desire when sleep is still clinging to him so jealously, but regardless of the demands his lover makes of him, Liem cannot help but want to meet them all. He doesn’t feel indomitable so much as insatiable; the only thing propping him up in the face of Cardan’s cruelties is his own hunger.
It blooms hot and insistent beneath his skin in the wake of each kiss; rolls through him with every thrust of Cardan’s hips and every stroke of his hand. The low rumble of his husband’s voice in his ear only makes the longing building inside him wilder, until he’s not sure how he can bear it any longer.]
Yours, [he gasps, and clutches at the sheets as he tries not to squirm into his husband’s touch. The feeling that awakens in his chest at being called Cardan’s dearest anything is rabid, insensate with need. Frustration adds the edge of a whine to his breaths as he teeters on the edge of it, unprepared; then Cardan’s teeth clamp down on his shoulder, and his hips buck fruitlessly against him as a hot pulse of pleasure races down his spine, shoving him up to the edge and over.]
[ He's desperate to hold on, to draw this out longer, because it can't be enough-- it can't possibly be enough. He wants to hold his husband down and fuck him for hours; he wants to hear Liem tell him he's Cardan's again and again and again. But Liem's orgasm rocks through him, and when his hips buck, Cardan moans, helpless against his own feverish pleasure. He doesn't stop. He cannot stop. His hand on Liem keeps stroking; Cardan moves in him, still, hard merciless thrusts, chasing that endless pleasure for just a breath and a heartbeat longer, unwilling to let go. ]
Liem-- [ His eyes are shut; he breathes it against his lover's skin, a prayer against his desperation and his endless greed. ] Fuck, Liem--
[ And then he's there, and he's trembling through it, his arm coiling around Liem like a vice as he does.
It takes him some time to catch his breath and regain his faculties in the aftermath. Stubborn affection curls up in his chest even so. His fingers stroke idly down Liem's flank, indulgent in the pleasure of touching him, even if Cardan is already plastered against him as is. ]
Next time someone tells me we oughtn't be fucking, [ he informs Liem, quite reasonably, without bothering to open his eyes, ] I am simply going to ignore them.
[For a very long moment, the storm of twinned pleasure and need pushes every thought out of Liem’s head, leaving him gasping in the throes of his climax. His world becomes nothing but keen spikes of sensation, the thundering of Cardan’s heart, and the heat of his breath against Liem’s skin—and in that world, Cardan is unmistakably king.
Though even as the urgent waves of pleasure begin to recede and Liem begins to recall the existence of other matters, the man wrapped around him becomes no less precious.
Even now, there is still nothing he wants more than to be tangled up in his husband’s embrace, painting his skin with drowsy kisses in defiance of the sun still ruling the landscape outside. He wants to stay that way until he has reacquainted himself with all the pleasures he’s been denying himself since the doctor conducted her examination over a week ago. That the world will not stop turning to accommodate this seems hugely unfair.
Of late, he seems to have more and more desire, and less and less time in which to fulfill any of it.]
That person is almost certainly bound to be me, [he observes. He’s reminded of his husband’s suggestion that he might accost him in the middle of his work. This seems like a prime opportunity for that kind of statement to him, though Liem suspects he ends up actually objecting to Cardan’s nonsense far less than he actually ought to.]
[ Cardan's grin curls against Liem's skin. ] Mm. Even better.
[ What could be more appealing than tempting his dutiful, disciplined husband into breaking his self-imposed rules? He knows few pleasures as sweet, although he is about to indulge in one of them.
It takes some effort -- he must force himself into moving enough to grasp Liem's hips and pull himself away. He shivers with it, still sensitive, but his hands on Liem are insistent. ]
Flip over for me.
[ Cardan wants to kiss him, after all, and he won't be particularly sedate about it when he does. Unlike his fully nocturnal husband, he is still thrumming with possessive energy; the need buzzing just under his skin has been dulled, but hardly quenched entirely. ]
[Cardan is so terrible for continuing to demand Liem’s attention and obedience when he is already so steeped in sleepy contentment. The gentle aftershocks of his pleasure have already begun to settle into an aching heaviness that drapes him like a shroud, clinging to his limbs and eyelids. He could subside against the bed right here and sink blissfully into oblivion, as long as Cardan snuggled in beside him, and the sleep this interlude cost him would be well worth it.
But that is not what Cardan does, and Liem is too enamoured with indulging him to resist his hungry advances. Of course he will turn back over, just as his husband asked, sinking back against the pillows with half-lidded eyes seeking Cardan’s face. Of course he will still reach for him, as his lover must have expected, holding him close as he surrenders kiss after greedy kiss.
He has missed Cardan’s catlike smiles so sorely, and he is not in such dire need of rest; how is he to refuse him when the cost of satisfying his whims comes so cheaply by comparison? He does not even pretend to object as he sighs against his husband’s lips, murmuring his name between kisses.]
[ Rather than rueful, the question is sharply curious. Even if Cardan wanted to, it would be difficult to stop. Kissing Liem has ever been an addictive pleasure -- but something about this Liem, who is sleepy and pliant and vulnerable to Cardan's mischief, makes a terrible need come to life within him. He wants that defenseless mouth and those sleepy sighs. His hands are still hungry when they traverse Liem's skin -- his flanks, his hips, his chest.
Perhaps that endless night they had spent together back in Elfhame has awoken something strange in him. He cannot help recalling the greed that had settled in his chest every time Liem had roused himself again, had given himself to Cardan's cruel hands and merciless demands. He wants that devotion from him again -- and how kind, and how foolish of Liem to give him a taste of it in this manner. ]
[Maybe it is greedy and foolish of him to indulge Cardan’s mischief just now, when he has so little time or energy to spare for diversions. Maybe it is unwise to respond to his predatory hunger eagerly, with wanting sighs and lazy, wandering hands. He has to rise in only a few hours, after all. He barely has enough time these days to rest; he certainly doesn’t have time to entertain his husband’s wants when he should be catching a few hours of sleep.
Except Liem cannot envision a future in which he isn’t buried in work at least some of the time, and if he lets that keep him from intimacy with his lover, then what is the point of being married? The idea that he might scarcely touch Cardan for any portion of time between now and the end of their marriage makes him feel indescribably lonely. If his husband’s faltering health hadn’t unsettled him so profoundly, he never would have insisted on keeping Cardan’s hands from him for this long to begin with. He does not want him to stay his hands now.]
Until my obligations prevent me from doing so any longer, [he murmurs, heedless of any suggestion of good sense. His hand slides to cup Cardan’s jaw, thumb idly stroking over his cheek.] I haven’t stopped missing you yet.
[Though truthfully, he’s more than a little afraid he won’t be able to stop no matter how long he stays.]
Edited (I an entire word...) 2023-12-27 01:11 (UTC)
[ Truthfully, he did not expect Liem to be so immediately ready to follow his terrible whims; it catches him a little off guard -- not that he will let it show. But keeping his poker face doesn't do anything to fix the terrible warmth that blooms in his chest when Liem touches his face. ]
I am right here.
[ That's not what Liem means. It doesn't matter; Cardan will claim him as many times as it takes to chase those thoughts away. Is this not the duty he'd committed to, to be the enduring, unassailable constant in Liem's life? Even if he's terrible, even if he's selfish and greedy and unkind--
Well, perhaps he should be less of those things, also. But in the meantime, he turns his face so he can nuzzle against Liem's palm -- and then grin and drag his tongue up the length of an elegant finger, unabashedly obscene. ]
What else have you missed about me, Liem?
[ His bullying, yes, but surely that can't be it. He'd been barred from using so many of his prime talents -- like his mouth, which he's putting to use on Liem's fingers, swallowing them up in wet, eager heat. ]
[Cardan is right here—so how is it that want for him still aches behind Liem’s ribs, just as wild and greedy as when he’d first awoken? Having Cardan at his side these past months hasn’t come close to sating his hunger, has only whetted it instead. It’s as he’d said all those weeks ago, after first tasting his blood: it could never be enough.
How could it? He can’t imagine not coveting the idle affection of his lover nuzzling against his skin, or the flutter in his belly when Cardan drags his tongue up his finger. Now that he’s tasted what it is like to have him, he can’t imagine being satisfied with anything less.]
Everything, [he sighs. Everything he has denied himself for nights on end, and can no longer convince himself to refuse. His free hand stalls its lazy journey over Cardan’s ribs as he focuses, intent, on the eager heat of his husband’s mouth fellating his fingers.]
Your mouth on me. Your taste. Your touch. I’ve missed hearing you, when pleasure has you in its grip.
[He has also missed Cardan’s mischievous energy and good humour, and the leisure of wrapping himself up in him without caring about the coming evening’s work, but he thinks that is not what his lover is asking.]
[ Everything, Liem says, and Cardan feels heat spark through him as if on command. He is always so greedy for this -- for him -- for desire on Liem's voice and in his bright, intent gaze. He wants to pin his husband down and make him tell Cardan every single dirty want he has ever had, no matter how trivial or extravagant, so that Cardan can make all of them come true. Probably Liem can tell -- by the soft, indrawn breath Cardan takes; by the jump in his heartbeat; by the way he sucks on the fingers in his mouth.
Liem must know how ravenous Cardan is for him. Surely there is no way he could miss it. ]
Then have me, [ he demands, pulling away with an insistent flick of his tongue. His mouth presses to Liem's cool palm, glides over the callouses built by his training. ] Have all of me.
[ He means for it to be flirtatious -- but it isn't, because he can't be anything but intent now. He had held it together, somehow, this howling vortex of longing, while under the impression that Liem was too consumed with work to pay much attention to him. Not that he isn't, now that Cardan is the only one occupying his attention, how can he be anything but focused on keeping it? ]
[When Cardan makes his demand, when he murmurs so insistently against Liem’s palm, what can Liem do but acquiesce? What power could he have against that soft mouth and that sharp, intent face and those dark, lovely eyes? Of course he wants all of him; of course he cannot refuse any part of Cardan, no matter how foolish his greed makes him.
He wants all of him, now and for as long as he can hold onto him in the nights to come—and when Cardan is like this, for a brief moment he can imagine that it just might be forever.]
You’ve chosen such a troublesome time to demand things of me, [he murmurs, tracing the shape of Cardan’s jaw with slick fingertips. The feeling of day still weights his limbs and stuffs grit into his eyes—but there is almost never a non-troublesome time, and although he is almost too tired to muster energy for indulging his husband’s mischief, he’s definitely too tired to resist it. It is simpler to tip his head closer, yielding to the want clamouring in his chest, and brush a kiss over one elegant cheekbone.] I cannot possibly make you mine in all the ways I would wish.
[ It's not an entirely honest question -- or rather, it is not a question that can be answered sincerely, even if Liem should harbour doubt. That is probably unfair. But the hand that trails down Liem's chest, over his stomach -- is it not bare of adornment, except for the one thing Cardan never takes off? The gold of his wedding band is warm with magic, with his husband's proximity; its pale sapphire glints in the fire's dying light. When Cardan turns his face to kiss Liem, it is soft with tenderness.
And when those bare fingers wrap around Liem's cock so Cardan can stroke him back to hardness, demanding his time and his effort and his want despite Liem's fatigue -- that is tender, too. How could he be anything else, when Liem is so weary and so earnest and so achingly, terribly dear? It clenches at something tense and painful in him, makes his throat tighten and his breath catch. No, he cannot help his gentleness nor his cruelty. So long as Liem lets him, so long as Liem permits him such indulgences-- ]
[Answering Cardan is difficult when the gentle balm of his kiss only manages to make Liem ache all the fiercer with desperate want. It escapes him on a soft breath, makes his fingers seek Cardan’s hair and his arm tighten around him, compelled to keep him close. He is not alert enough to think about playing the question off with something obscene—something safe. His mind is only on the man in his arms, the soft mouth on his own, the travelling fingers that make him first twitch and move beneath his touch, and then sigh, gently, as he meets his husband’s kisses.
It’s astonishing how in moments like this, Cardan can become his entire world, and yet, confronted with such excess, still Liem yearns incessantly for more: more tenderness, more greed, more unruliness and wantonness and vulnerability. He feels mad with a terrible, covetous reverence plucked straight from his dreams, interfering with his tidy plans for his waking hours, and he doesn’t know how to regain his senses.]
Perhaps you are. Perhaps I just need to be reminded.
[Maybe that will soothe the feverish lack gnawing at him, famished and ever-anxious of the day he will wake to find his bed and life both empty of his lover. It might even distract him from the one thing he can never ask for, can never even admit to wanting, especially to Cardan.]
[ He's a little saucy about it, even if there is no real ire behind it. The press of his teeth against Liem's bottom lip is teasing. It's Liem's fault -- his soft sighs and his insistent hand in Cardan's hair, the achingly familiar way he moves with Cardan's touch. ]
Then I should have done this sooner.
[ What a waste. He had endeavoured to be good for Liem -- to be obedient, for once, lest he provoke his husband's distrust further -- but in the end, all that seems to have done is fostered unhappiness in both of them. Cardan should have known better; following stupid rules has never worked out in his favour before.
His mouth brushes along the line of Liem's jaw, his kisses open-mouthed and greedy despite their slow, deliberate tempo -- matching the stroke of his hand on Liem's cock, intent on coaxing desire from his exhaustion. ]
It has been lonely. [ His frown is earnest. ] It is cruel to make me depend so on your affection, and then forbid me from seeking it out.
[ That may be a petty, frivolous complaint, but then he's never claimed to be anything but. ]
[The scrape of Cardan’s teeth over Liem’s lip sends hunger shivering through him, curling his fingers and making his blood thrill in his veins. It is always like this with Cardan, no matter how fatigued Liem is, or how distracted, or how busy: he is so easily seduced by the promise of that wicked mouth and those long, clever hands.
It is not just that fucking Cardan is always amazing—though it is. He isn’t simply swayed by his husband’s allure. It is just that having the full weight of his husband’s attention is endlessly addictive. When Cardan is touching him, he cannot make himself care about anything else at all.
So he has long since abandoned any pretence of resisting the pleasure his husband teases him with. He’s already slept an hour or two today, anyway; how much more does he need? If he needs to be more alert come nightfall, he can just drink more coffee. For now, he tips his head to accommodate the wandering of Cardan’s mouth, and runs his hand greedily down the planes of his back and over his ass, still eager despite his exhaustion and his recent climax.
And yet.]
That is not a cruelty I ever wished to inflict on you.
[Despite the distraction of the mouth at his jaw and the hand wrapped around his cock, he manages to sound earnest. If there is anything worse than suffering the lack of his husband’s attention, it is once again inflicting loneliness on a man to whom he desperately wants to be a good companion. He just has to try harder. If he does, then maybe this time…]
[ He rumbles it against the underside of Liem's jaw, content despite his complaining. Maybe it's Liem's hands on him -- maybe it's the comfortable weight of this slow, lazy afternoon, of the arousal that builds in his own veins, inevitable as the tide, with every shiver and sigh he coaxes from his husband.
It would be like Liem to punish himself for perceived indiscretions -- but for all his iron self-discipine, his control has ever been stubbornly directed at himself rather than Cardan. Cardan had first found it suspicious and unlikely, then worrisome, and then, finally, astounding. He still does not quite understand it -- why a man who should be able to wield so much power over him plainly refuses to do so.
The possibility that Liem simply doesn't want to is too dangerous to consider. ]
...it surprised me.
[ It slips out unbidden, in that quiet space between where he ends and Liem begins. The fire is dying; soon they will be fully in the dark. Soon he won't be able to see his husband at all, save for the glow of his eyes. Cardan's hand finds his cheek, coils around his face in that familiar gesture. He lifts his face to look at Liem, serious, even as affection softens the line of his mouth. ]
[Liem shouldn’t be relieved by what Cardan tells him. He’d kept his hands off his husband for a good reason, soberly considered; it could not have been otherwise, given the keenness of his longing in the absence of Cardan’s touch. Unlike his spouse, Liem is not willing to be careless about Cardan’s well being, even in the pursuit of pleasure. He does not want there to be a next time, but if there is, he hates to think his lover would disregard his own recovery in favour of immediate enjoyment.
But the spaces Cardan habitually fills in his life have been choked so quickly with loneliness, reclaimed readily by what lived there before. He doesn’t want to give that feeling purchase again, and some part of him cannot help but be glad that Cardan rejects the need for it.
His arm comes around Cardan again, fingers trailing down his neck and over his scarred shoulders. In defiance of the easy pleasure winding through him, a small frown has still taken up residence between his eyebrows. He squeezes his husband closer, briefly, brushing his lips over the corner of his mouth.]
Do not worry me so again. Then you needn’t go to the trouble of thwarting me.
[ Cardan’s huff of a soft laugh will ghost across Liem’s skin. He tilts his head to kiss him, equally soft. Cardan’s hands leave their work for a moment, curling over his slim hips instead, so that he can shift to press his mouth to that stubborn crease between Liem’s brows. ]
Ah, my gentle husband. How am I to achieve that, when you worry far too often?
[ His mouth travels down, indulgent — over the bridge of Liem’s nose, to his cheek, trailing butterfly-soft kisses. And though his smile is affectionate, there is a predatory sharpness in it. ]
[Always, the gentle brush of Cardan’s mouth against his own provokes a covetous heat beneath his skin and an ache in his chest. Even though he should be prepared by now, Liem is still caught off guard by it when his husband trails feather-light kisses over his brow, his nose, his cheek. Cardan is right to suggest he should worry about himself instead of about him; there is little he could not be tempted into by that warm, soft mouth.
If his only hope is his husband’s mercy, he may be in danger after all. And still, and still…
He smiles, sleepily content.]
Hm. I don’t suppose I am.
[He prefers things this way, after all. Is Cardan not his own personal menace, to toy with him as he pleases? Why should he be concerned at the prospect of getting the thing he wants?]
[ Cardan huffs, even though that drowsy smile makes any attempt at real ire impossible. Still, he is well-practiced in languid menace, which curls in his voice when he presses Liem into the sheets with his weight, deliberate in trapping him with the lean heat of his own body. ]
Oh? Shall I stop?
[ He has no intention of stopping. The ache that has coiled in his abdomen is half desire, half affection for the stubbornly gentle man he wed. If Liem wants him -- for so long as Liem wants him -- he will have Cardan, regardless of how unwise both their desires may be.
There are, however, notable obstacles in the way of their intimacy. For example: Liem's silly sleeping trousers, still tangled somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles.
This time, Cardan's sigh is a little less put on. ]
Or will you disrobe already?
[ By which he means: kick them off. Cardan certainly isn't doing it for him, nor is he releasing him long enough to do anything else. But he is going to snake a hand between them to wrap around both their cocks and stroke, shivering with the lazy, slow pleasure of it -- after all, it would not do to keep Liem's task too easy, especially at a time like this. ]
[Cardan is so obliging for giving Liem distractions to contend with and challenges to overcome. Perhaps Liem would be more well rested in the absence of his husband’s mischief, and perhaps he would get more done at work, but regardless of the added difficulties Cardan brings to his nights—and his days—Liem continues to want him there always. He could not ask for a better taskmaster than the one whose breath is currently warming his lips, nor more pleasing tasks than the ones his husband poses him.
Even if indulging in this is foolish. Even if the insistent heat curling through him at Cardan’s touch is at odds with the looming weight of the night ahead.]
I thought you weren’t going to, [he murmurs, arching lazily beneath his lover, indulgent and affectionate. He makes a cursory effort to shove the trousers from one leg with a socked foot, and mostly just succeeds at turning the trousers inside-out, trailing from his legs like a drag parachute.]
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It is the same now: the pliant way he shifts at the coaxing of Cardan’s hands; the soft, wanting breath that sighs from him as Cardan’s heated kisses wander his skin; the familiar, hungry eagerness that flares in his belly at the provocative stroke of warm fingers and the press of Cardan against him. He wants all of it, has to suppress his own impatience for more—though he cannot entirely smother the needy whine that slips out when his husband teases his desperately-hard cock. It has just been far too long already since he let his husband touch him; all of the wanting that he’d been denying for nights on end now seems to spill from him all at once.]
Always, [he breathes, and then swallows a moan as Cardan fucks into him. He is now, as ever, Cardan’s to do with as he pleases—because Liem cannot, regardless of his efforts, deny the helpless bliss of being desired. And the feverish heat with which his husband desires him is blissful indeed to weather, even if it is a torment.] Cardan…
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His arm wraps around his lover; he wants to leave no distance at all between them. He wants to never let him leave the bed nor Cardan's embrace, never be claimed by frivolities like parties or work or even plotting to save both their lives. ]
Always, [ he agrees, his voice rough as his mouth moves against the shell of Liem's ear. There is a thrill in having him exposed to Cardan's voice, to his mouth and his teeth, vulnerable to his desires even here. A thrill, too, in how he knows that Liem will hear his breath stutter with need when he moves, fucking back into him with insistent tenderness. ]
I shall give you no-- hah-- no peace from me, Liem Talbott. Not until you beg me to cease.
[ Wild, untamable affection mingles in his chest with a strangely painful need. Liem's scent, the sound of his voice, even his fussiness about keeping Cardan healthy -- he wants to cradle those things to him like treasures, to curl atop them like a dragon with a hoard. There is a moment of clarity: he recognizes the feeling, and feels a shard of terror slice through him.
But that, too, is swept away by raw need. His palm presses against Liem's chest, smooths down his stomach to wrap around his cock again, urgent. He is so pliant and eager under Cardan's hands; how could he not crave this, always? ]
...perhaps not even then.
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Always he wants to feel more: to feel not just desired, not just coveted, but possessed. He wants the unsteady cadence of Cardan’s breaths as he fucks him, and the wild beating of Cardan’s heart thumping against him, and the greedy clasp of his arm keeping him close. He wants his menace and his obsession. He cannot stop wanting.
He can only tremble at the deliberate transit of the hand down his body, and then moan in earnest this time as Cardan once again wraps insistent fingers around his cock.]
Ah— Why… [Even when he tips his head, he cannot really see his husband—but he’s compelled to try nonetheless.] Why would I wish for that?
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You are indomitable. Wherever did I find you?
[ It occurs to him, not for the first time, that no one would ever have wed them, had they known how well the union would work. He cannot recall a time when he had worked so hard for someone’s pleasure and been so glad of the labour.
He does not bother with subtlety; he can’t, not with the way his own need has set every nerve in his body on fire, not with the tight grip of Liem’s body making him feel like he’s losing his mind. His mouth smears over his lover’s shoulder, the crook of his neck. The grip of his hand is tight, moving in time with each indulgent stroke of his hips, and with each one his pleasure closes in, relentless and inescapable. ]
My dearest victim—
[ His, his alone to torment and tease and trouble and soothe, too, when his cruelties have run their course. He cannot care if he deserves Liem, cannot be unselfish about this even a little bit.
He doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want it to end—
His teeth sink into Liem’s shoulder, and he cannot help that either. ]
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It blooms hot and insistent beneath his skin in the wake of each kiss; rolls through him with every thrust of Cardan’s hips and every stroke of his hand. The low rumble of his husband’s voice in his ear only makes the longing building inside him wilder, until he’s not sure how he can bear it any longer.]
Yours, [he gasps, and clutches at the sheets as he tries not to squirm into his husband’s touch. The feeling that awakens in his chest at being called Cardan’s dearest anything is rabid, insensate with need. Frustration adds the edge of a whine to his breaths as he teeters on the edge of it, unprepared; then Cardan’s teeth clamp down on his shoulder, and his hips buck fruitlessly against him as a hot pulse of pleasure races down his spine, shoving him up to the edge and over.]
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Liem-- [ His eyes are shut; he breathes it against his lover's skin, a prayer against his desperation and his endless greed. ] Fuck, Liem--
[ And then he's there, and he's trembling through it, his arm coiling around Liem like a vice as he does.
It takes him some time to catch his breath and regain his faculties in the aftermath. Stubborn affection curls up in his chest even so. His fingers stroke idly down Liem's flank, indulgent in the pleasure of touching him, even if Cardan is already plastered against him as is. ]
Next time someone tells me we oughtn't be fucking, [ he informs Liem, quite reasonably, without bothering to open his eyes, ] I am simply going to ignore them.
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Though even as the urgent waves of pleasure begin to recede and Liem begins to recall the existence of other matters, the man wrapped around him becomes no less precious.
Even now, there is still nothing he wants more than to be tangled up in his husband’s embrace, painting his skin with drowsy kisses in defiance of the sun still ruling the landscape outside. He wants to stay that way until he has reacquainted himself with all the pleasures he’s been denying himself since the doctor conducted her examination over a week ago. That the world will not stop turning to accommodate this seems hugely unfair.
Of late, he seems to have more and more desire, and less and less time in which to fulfill any of it.]
That person is almost certainly bound to be me, [he observes. He’s reminded of his husband’s suggestion that he might accost him in the middle of his work. This seems like a prime opportunity for that kind of statement to him, though Liem suspects he ends up actually objecting to Cardan’s nonsense far less than he actually ought to.]
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[ What could be more appealing than tempting his dutiful, disciplined husband into breaking his self-imposed rules? He knows few pleasures as sweet, although he is about to indulge in one of them.
It takes some effort -- he must force himself into moving enough to grasp Liem's hips and pull himself away. He shivers with it, still sensitive, but his hands on Liem are insistent. ]
Flip over for me.
[ Cardan wants to kiss him, after all, and he won't be particularly sedate about it when he does. Unlike his fully nocturnal husband, he is still thrumming with possessive energy; the need buzzing just under his skin has been dulled, but hardly quenched entirely. ]
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But that is not what Cardan does, and Liem is too enamoured with indulging him to resist his hungry advances. Of course he will turn back over, just as his husband asked, sinking back against the pillows with half-lidded eyes seeking Cardan’s face. Of course he will still reach for him, as his lover must have expected, holding him close as he surrenders kiss after greedy kiss.
He has missed Cardan’s catlike smiles so sorely, and he is not in such dire need of rest; how is he to refuse him when the cost of satisfying his whims comes so cheaply by comparison? He does not even pretend to object as he sighs against his husband’s lips, murmuring his name between kisses.]
Mm… Cardan…
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[ Rather than rueful, the question is sharply curious. Even if Cardan wanted to, it would be difficult to stop. Kissing Liem has ever been an addictive pleasure -- but something about this Liem, who is sleepy and pliant and vulnerable to Cardan's mischief, makes a terrible need come to life within him. He wants that defenseless mouth and those sleepy sighs. His hands are still hungry when they traverse Liem's skin -- his flanks, his hips, his chest.
Perhaps that endless night they had spent together back in Elfhame has awoken something strange in him. He cannot help recalling the greed that had settled in his chest every time Liem had roused himself again, had given himself to Cardan's cruel hands and merciless demands. He wants that devotion from him again -- and how kind, and how foolish of Liem to give him a taste of it in this manner. ]
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Except Liem cannot envision a future in which he isn’t buried in work at least some of the time, and if he lets that keep him from intimacy with his lover, then what is the point of being married? The idea that he might scarcely touch Cardan for any portion of time between now and the end of their marriage makes him feel indescribably lonely. If his husband’s faltering health hadn’t unsettled him so profoundly, he never would have insisted on keeping Cardan’s hands from him for this long to begin with. He does not want him to stay his hands now.]
Until my obligations prevent me from doing so any longer, [he murmurs, heedless of any suggestion of good sense. His hand slides to cup Cardan’s jaw, thumb idly stroking over his cheek.] I haven’t stopped missing you yet.
[Though truthfully, he’s more than a little afraid he won’t be able to stop no matter how long he stays.]
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I am right here.
[ That's not what Liem means. It doesn't matter; Cardan will claim him as many times as it takes to chase those thoughts away. Is this not the duty he'd committed to, to be the enduring, unassailable constant in Liem's life? Even if he's terrible, even if he's selfish and greedy and unkind--
Well, perhaps he should be less of those things, also. But in the meantime, he turns his face so he can nuzzle against Liem's palm -- and then grin and drag his tongue up the length of an elegant finger, unabashedly obscene. ]
What else have you missed about me, Liem?
[ His bullying, yes, but surely that can't be it. He'd been barred from using so many of his prime talents -- like his mouth, which he's putting to use on Liem's fingers, swallowing them up in wet, eager heat. ]
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How could it? He can’t imagine not coveting the idle affection of his lover nuzzling against his skin, or the flutter in his belly when Cardan drags his tongue up his finger. Now that he’s tasted what it is like to have him, he can’t imagine being satisfied with anything less.]
Everything, [he sighs. Everything he has denied himself for nights on end, and can no longer convince himself to refuse. His free hand stalls its lazy journey over Cardan’s ribs as he focuses, intent, on the eager heat of his husband’s mouth fellating his fingers.]
Your mouth on me. Your taste. Your touch. I’ve missed hearing you, when pleasure has you in its grip.
[He has also missed Cardan’s mischievous energy and good humour, and the leisure of wrapping himself up in him without caring about the coming evening’s work, but he thinks that is not what his lover is asking.]
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Liem must know how ravenous Cardan is for him. Surely there is no way he could miss it. ]
Then have me, [ he demands, pulling away with an insistent flick of his tongue. His mouth presses to Liem's cool palm, glides over the callouses built by his training. ] Have all of me.
[ He means for it to be flirtatious -- but it isn't, because he can't be anything but intent now. He had held it together, somehow, this howling vortex of longing, while under the impression that Liem was too consumed with work to pay much attention to him. Not that he isn't, now that Cardan is the only one occupying his attention, how can he be anything but focused on keeping it? ]
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He wants all of him, now and for as long as he can hold onto him in the nights to come—and when Cardan is like this, for a brief moment he can imagine that it just might be forever.]
You’ve chosen such a troublesome time to demand things of me, [he murmurs, tracing the shape of Cardan’s jaw with slick fingertips. The feeling of day still weights his limbs and stuffs grit into his eyes—but there is almost never a non-troublesome time, and although he is almost too tired to muster energy for indulging his husband’s mischief, he’s definitely too tired to resist it. It is simpler to tip his head closer, yielding to the want clamouring in his chest, and brush a kiss over one elegant cheekbone.] I cannot possibly make you mine in all the ways I would wish.
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[ It's not an entirely honest question -- or rather, it is not a question that can be answered sincerely, even if Liem should harbour doubt. That is probably unfair. But the hand that trails down Liem's chest, over his stomach -- is it not bare of adornment, except for the one thing Cardan never takes off? The gold of his wedding band is warm with magic, with his husband's proximity; its pale sapphire glints in the fire's dying light. When Cardan turns his face to kiss Liem, it is soft with tenderness.
And when those bare fingers wrap around Liem's cock so Cardan can stroke him back to hardness, demanding his time and his effort and his want despite Liem's fatigue -- that is tender, too. How could he be anything else, when Liem is so weary and so earnest and so achingly, terribly dear? It clenches at something tense and painful in him, makes his throat tighten and his breath catch. No, he cannot help his gentleness nor his cruelty. So long as Liem lets him, so long as Liem permits him such indulgences-- ]
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It’s astonishing how in moments like this, Cardan can become his entire world, and yet, confronted with such excess, still Liem yearns incessantly for more: more tenderness, more greed, more unruliness and wantonness and vulnerability. He feels mad with a terrible, covetous reverence plucked straight from his dreams, interfering with his tidy plans for his waking hours, and he doesn’t know how to regain his senses.]
Perhaps you are. Perhaps I just need to be reminded.
[Maybe that will soothe the feverish lack gnawing at him, famished and ever-anxious of the day he will wake to find his bed and life both empty of his lover. It might even distract him from the one thing he can never ask for, can never even admit to wanting, especially to Cardan.]
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[ He's a little saucy about it, even if there is no real ire behind it. The press of his teeth against Liem's bottom lip is teasing. It's Liem's fault -- his soft sighs and his insistent hand in Cardan's hair, the achingly familiar way he moves with Cardan's touch. ]
Then I should have done this sooner.
[ What a waste. He had endeavoured to be good for Liem -- to be obedient, for once, lest he provoke his husband's distrust further -- but in the end, all that seems to have done is fostered unhappiness in both of them. Cardan should have known better; following stupid rules has never worked out in his favour before.
His mouth brushes along the line of Liem's jaw, his kisses open-mouthed and greedy despite their slow, deliberate tempo -- matching the stroke of his hand on Liem's cock, intent on coaxing desire from his exhaustion. ]
It has been lonely. [ His frown is earnest. ] It is cruel to make me depend so on your affection, and then forbid me from seeking it out.
[ That may be a petty, frivolous complaint, but then he's never claimed to be anything but. ]
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It is not just that fucking Cardan is always amazing—though it is. He isn’t simply swayed by his husband’s allure. It is just that having the full weight of his husband’s attention is endlessly addictive. When Cardan is touching him, he cannot make himself care about anything else at all.
So he has long since abandoned any pretence of resisting the pleasure his husband teases him with. He’s already slept an hour or two today, anyway; how much more does he need? If he needs to be more alert come nightfall, he can just drink more coffee. For now, he tips his head to accommodate the wandering of Cardan’s mouth, and runs his hand greedily down the planes of his back and over his ass, still eager despite his exhaustion and his recent climax.
And yet.]
That is not a cruelty I ever wished to inflict on you.
[Despite the distraction of the mouth at his jaw and the hand wrapped around his cock, he manages to sound earnest. If there is anything worse than suffering the lack of his husband’s attention, it is once again inflicting loneliness on a man to whom he desperately wants to be a good companion. He just has to try harder. If he does, then maybe this time…]
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[ He rumbles it against the underside of Liem's jaw, content despite his complaining. Maybe it's Liem's hands on him -- maybe it's the comfortable weight of this slow, lazy afternoon, of the arousal that builds in his own veins, inevitable as the tide, with every shiver and sigh he coaxes from his husband.
It would be like Liem to punish himself for perceived indiscretions -- but for all his iron self-discipine, his control has ever been stubbornly directed at himself rather than Cardan. Cardan had first found it suspicious and unlikely, then worrisome, and then, finally, astounding. He still does not quite understand it -- why a man who should be able to wield so much power over him plainly refuses to do so.
The possibility that Liem simply doesn't want to is too dangerous to consider. ]
...it surprised me.
[ It slips out unbidden, in that quiet space between where he ends and Liem begins. The fire is dying; soon they will be fully in the dark. Soon he won't be able to see his husband at all, save for the glow of his eyes. Cardan's hand finds his cheek, coils around his face in that familiar gesture. He lifts his face to look at Liem, serious, even as affection softens the line of his mouth. ]
I won't let you do it again.
Not like this.
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But the spaces Cardan habitually fills in his life have been choked so quickly with loneliness, reclaimed readily by what lived there before. He doesn’t want to give that feeling purchase again, and some part of him cannot help but be glad that Cardan rejects the need for it.
His arm comes around Cardan again, fingers trailing down his neck and over his scarred shoulders. In defiance of the easy pleasure winding through him, a small frown has still taken up residence between his eyebrows. He squeezes his husband closer, briefly, brushing his lips over the corner of his mouth.]
Do not worry me so again. Then you needn’t go to the trouble of thwarting me.
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Ah, my gentle husband. How am I to achieve that, when you worry far too often?
[ His mouth travels down, indulgent — over the bridge of Liem’s nose, to his cheek, trailing butterfly-soft kisses. And though his smile is affectionate, there is a predatory sharpness in it. ]
I think it is you that you ought to worry about.
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If his only hope is his husband’s mercy, he may be in danger after all. And still, and still…
He smiles, sleepily content.]
Hm. I don’t suppose I am.
[He prefers things this way, after all. Is Cardan not his own personal menace, to toy with him as he pleases? Why should he be concerned at the prospect of getting the thing he wants?]
It seems to me like I’m rather getting my way.
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Oh? Shall I stop?
[ He has no intention of stopping. The ache that has coiled in his abdomen is half desire, half affection for the stubbornly gentle man he wed. If Liem wants him -- for so long as Liem wants him -- he will have Cardan, regardless of how unwise both their desires may be.
There are, however, notable obstacles in the way of their intimacy. For example: Liem's silly sleeping trousers, still tangled somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles.
This time, Cardan's sigh is a little less put on. ]
Or will you disrobe already?
[ By which he means: kick them off. Cardan certainly isn't doing it for him, nor is he releasing him long enough to do anything else. But he is going to snake a hand between them to wrap around both their cocks and stroke, shivering with the lazy, slow pleasure of it -- after all, it would not do to keep Liem's task too easy, especially at a time like this. ]
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Even if indulging in this is foolish. Even if the insistent heat curling through him at Cardan’s touch is at odds with the looming weight of the night ahead.]
I thought you weren’t going to, [he murmurs, arching lazily beneath his lover, indulgent and affectionate. He makes a cursory effort to shove the trousers from one leg with a socked foot, and mostly just succeeds at turning the trousers inside-out, trailing from his legs like a drag parachute.]
Not until I begged.
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