[How quickly, how easily Liem falls back into the motions of this strange and cherished intimacy. How effortless it feels to offer the line of his throat to Cardan’s hungry mouth; how right is the sound of his startled laugh, coaxed by Liem’s cool hands. He was not born for this—but he is meant for it, now. Because Cardan has made it so easy to fit himself to the shape of him, of his clever hands and wicked caprices and warm, possessive embrace. A year ago, he didn’t know who Prince Cardan of Elfhame was; now, he doesn’t know how he could live without him.
He feels too alert, too sensitive to the wanderings of his lover’s hands, the brush of his breath, the scrape of his teeth. Even the hot flesh beneath his palms sparks his hunger too readily—but he can be hungry now, entwined as he is in Cardan’s grasp. He no longer needs to pretend the feeling away.
Liem opens his mouth to say that at least they are of the same mind, that they can indulge their wants together instead of enduring them alone—and gasps at the sudden attention to his hardening nipples. He cannot disagree with his husband: He has missed Cardan’s tormenting, also. His devotion to discovering all the ways he can drive Liem insane is both intimidating and irresistible.]
I am yours to torment, [he agrees breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed in the face of Cardan’s teasing assault. He is certainly tormented by lust—though also, as ever, by his need for his husband to be bared to his affections. Blindly, his hands seek the buttons marching down Cardan’s front, intending to be more thorough than his husband has bothered to be with his own half-undone shirt. He wants the garment off.]
Only to torment? [ he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. But he’s greedy for this too — he wants to hear Liem say it, wants him to admit all the ways in which he belongs to Cardan alone. At times like these, he can convince himself that it doesn’t matter how Liem came to be his — just that he is. Just that he keeps letting Cardan in, that he trusts him with his want and his impatience. Surely that can be enough.
Ungenerously, he still doesn’t particularly help Liem in his quest to divest him of his shirt. He’s too focused on dragging his mouth over Liem’s elegant collarbones, kissing the hollow of his throat, on teasing those nipples to full wanton hardness. He wishes, at times like these, for more hands, so that he should not have to choose between undressing his husband and touching him.
It turns out that Liem has limited time to achieve his shirt-related goals, because Cardan doesn’t intend to stay within so easy a reach for very long. Already, one of his hands drifts down to traverse Liem’s stomach on its way to his fly. Cardan is eager to slide his fingers inside Liem’s trousers, to curl them around the familiar shape of him. A lush, hot hunger flares in his belly at the feeling of Liem’s arousal.
And when he sinks to his knees shortly thereafter, it’s to follow the call of that same need. Of course, he always wants to put his mouth on Liem — but especially now, when they’re both already so wound up and desperate. He had thought about this for weeks, had wanted it since Liem’s very first letter had arrived in the Undersea: to splay his fingers over Liem’s thighs, pinning him down, trapping him while Cardan has his way with him to his cruel heart’s content.
And, after all, it hardly counts as torment if Cardan wasn’t intending to drive his husband a little insane. ]
[It might be magic, the way Cardan’s touch can wind Liem so tight and desperate, and yet sink him effortlessly into such bone-deep peace. Liem can feel himself arching eagerly into the tease of those hands and the caress of that feverish mouth, impatient for more after his long stretch of deprivation, but as always, Cardan’s heated touch is liable to make him melt. When Cardan poses his coy little question, there can only be one answer.]
No. For other purposes, too.
[The list of liberties Liem would let his husband take with him is astonishingly long—so long he cannot glimpse its end. He has pledged himself as Cardan’s partner in life, in schemes, and in business. He has promised him his protection and his honesty. He has let Cardan bathe him, hold him while he sleeps, drag him away from his work, and even see him cry.
And frighteningly, he doesn’t regret any of it. He belongs with Cardan; he cannot fathom a way in which he would not wish to be his.
So it is a relief, one that slips from him as a sigh, when Cardan’s fingers trail down to undo his trousers and take him in hand. His own hands fumble on his husband’s buttons—then slip free when Cardan sinks to his knees to menace him further, his shirt still only half undone. It simply means that Liem must lean forward with a sensitized shiver and shove the garment down to his husband’s arms, exposing the graceful lines of his shoulders and neck to his roaming palms.]
[ What Cardan intends is to throw a coy glance up at Liem from beneath his lashes, greedy as he ever is for the expression on his husband's serious face. It's just that he doesn't -- it's just that he's always vulnerable to the touch of Liem's gentle hands on his too-sensitive back. Instead, he has to shut his eyes and field his own shiver, momentarily distracted from his purpose. His tail, freed from its prison, trembles with it.
To think that he would come to miss this, too.
He revenges himself by dragging his tongue up the length of Liem's erection, insouciantly unhurried. He doesn't feel unhurried; impatience still burns under his skin, coils urgently in his belly. But, far as he now is from Liem's industrious hands and dangerous teeth, his greed takes on a different dimension. Right now, Cardan wants to taste him; he wants to map the shape of him with his mouth and lips and tongue, wants to coax him to the edge and leave him teetering there, adrift in Cardan's hands. And if doing so gives him time to steel himself against his own desire, so he will not fall apart the moment Liem touches him in earnest -- then all the more reason to indulge. ]
[When Cardan sinks down to prey on Liem in one of the ways he seems most fond of, Liem is torn between anticipation and frustration. The lazy attention to his cock makes greed flare in his belly and, perversely, warmth flutter against his ribs. He cannot help the tender way his fingers slide up to card through Cardan’s hair, helplessly affectionate with this man who so evidently delights in provoking his impatience.
And yet, hungry though he always is to be in Cardan’s clutches, he feels bereft without his lover’s warm, breathing body in his arms. Even as the slide of Cardan’s tongue rolls through him, coaxing an eager little moan from his throat, his mouth jealously recalls the warmth of Cardan’s kisses, and he yearns for his lover’s long, elegant body caging him against his desk. He has been too long deprived to take this tease with any degree of patience.
It is torment in more ways than one. Liem tries faithfully to recall his patience, despite the leisurely exploration of his cock making him want to squirm, and then swear—but he has been severely short on that particular commodity for the last several days, and even now, with Cardan’s mouth and hands on him, he cannot seem to find it again.]
Cardan, [he growls frustratedly, fingers twitching as they wander from his husband’s pointed ear to the angle of his jaw. Though his touch remains gentle, the flushed look he aims down at Cardan is sharp with impatience.] I have had my fill of denial of late.
[ He expects Liem to be frustrated; what he doesn’t expect is for him to be annoyed, let alone have it paired with such an uncommonly demanding stare. Cardan’s initial, stubborn instinct demands he double down, to keep Liem right where he is, until he became too distracted by lust to complain about anything at all.
But I have had my fill of denial strikes a discordant note of guilt within him. Still looking up at Liem, he can't help his flicker of a frown -- though it's gone as soon as it shows, and then he's smiling his easy, arrogant smile. He turns his face to lean his cheek into Liem's fingers. ]
Then what would you have of me, husband?
Name it, and it shall be yours.
[ What a foolish thing to offer. Liem could ask for anything -- for his true name, for his deepest secret, for any number of horrifying things Cardan is too besotted to consider. It's just that he doesn't care; it's just that he wants, a little desperately, to be a better husband than he clearly has been. ]
[As Liem stares into his husband’s smiling, bewitching face, trying to summon up the demand Cardan expects, half his trouble is that he doesn’t himself know what his wish actually is. He doesn’t want to sacrifice a moment of Cardan’s devoted attention, and yet, he also desperately wishes they were in their chambers instead of in his office. He is struck by the desire to hoard his lover away somewhere utterly private, to curl around him like a dragon and not move from his side until long after the sun has made its journey across the sky. As a place to remain undisturbed and in comfort for the next day or so, their current location leaves much to be desired.
He doesn’t know how to reconcile this greedy want with his current frustration, nor how to translate it into any kind of immediate action. He doesn’t know why any of this should make him feel so bereft. He only knows that, suddenly, his lover’s position between his thighs is highlighting some untended need that he had been steadfastly ignoring until now, and he cannot bear to have to stare it straight in the face.]
I want…
[Liem frowns down at Cardan, at his arresting dark eyes, at the damp, obscenely alluring curve of his mouth, at the face that has haunted his thoughts and stolen his sleep. He decides what one thing he absolutely cannot do without.]
Whatever you do with me tonight, I insist you be within reach of my mouth.
[ Cardan blinks, momentarily startled-- and then rises in one smooth motion, his hands skimming along Liem's flanks as he does. Though he makes it look natural, the action is hardly voluntary; he is pulled by up the force of his promise as if by an invisible string. The only way to stay on his knees would have been by dragging Liem down against him, which seems less than romantic.
So instead, he is upright, bracing himself against the desk with one hand as his other cups Liem’s pale cheek. He had been trying to contain himself; he still is, even though lust pulses through him when he leans into Liem, close enough that his breath will caress his lover’s face. His tone is carefully mild. ]
That will make it difficult to undress you, husband.
[ How is he supposed to remove Liem's boots and trousers while staying within reach of his mouth? How would Liem himself even manage to do it, for that matter? ]
…but I suppose that is your problem, now.
[ Cardan is too busy making sure his promise is fulfilled, and his husband seems intent on not allowing him to bate his hunger — so he won’t. Instead, he kisses Liem like it’s the first and last time: obscene with longing and all of the devouring loneliness he’d felt at the bottom of the sea, week after week after week. His fingers slide into his husband’s hair, keeping him there, even when Cardan has to break to breathe. Even then, he is recklessly cavalier with his air supply; what’s a missed breath here and there when he has a husband who so wants for kissing?
His hands are as greedy as his mouth. The one not in Liem’s hair slides between their bodies, undoing the fastenings of his own trousers. It’s far from the elegant seduction he had planned, but like so many of his lofty schemes, it fades against the stark reality of his desire for the man in his arms. ]
[The problem that Liem has now been faced with is the kind of problem that he loves to have. How will he indulge Cardan’s desire to see him undressed when he is so occupied with his kisses? For that matter, how are they going to traverse the halls between his office and their bedroom without disentangling themselves from each other’s arms? As soon as his husband rises to his feet, Liem realizes that his impulsive demand has some implications he hadn’t considered—but he is not tempted to revoke it, even still. He is too greedy for the concession Cardan has given him to think about relinquishing it.]
As though that isn’t one of your favourite pastimes.
[Liem has stopped counting the instances in which his husband made it his mission to hinder him while he undressed, but it has long since become a pattern. He can’t be surprised that Cardan decided at the first opportunity that this was Liem’s problem to solve.
Though at present, Liem shows little inclination to oblige him. He is too busy getting his hands on his husband, indulging the wild eagerness that always comes of having Cardan’s breath brushing his skin and Cardan’s touch gracing his cheek. One hand slides back around his lover’s bare, half-undressed shoulders, holding him possessively close as he claims what he’d so coveted; the other gropes for Cardan’s remaining shirt buttons, more interested in undressing him than himself, even as Cardan assaults his mouth with kiss after hungry kiss.
This is what he’d missed so keenly—what he cannot imagine having his fill of, even if they are tangled in each other all night long: Cardan’s hunger for him. He doesn’t want Cardan to be restrained just now. What he wants is for his husband’s desire to outweigh all his other impulses: his want to indulge his cleverness and his stubborn desire to get his way. He wants him to forget everything but his need for the man in his arms, because without a doubt, Liem already has.]
Being within reach of your mouth? [ he asks, managing to sound amused even through his breathlessness. That is obviously not what Liem meant, but it doesn't matter; if his husband will demand concessions from him, then Cardan would at least reserve the right to tease him. ]
Of course it is. I spend few hours of my day not wishing I were indulging in it.
[ Having wrestled open his own trousers, Cardan will take a moment to shrug off his shirt, though the gesture is impatient. All of him is impatient; when he takes himself in hand, the noise that rises from his throat is hungry. When he wraps long, feverish fingers around them both, his breath stutters, too preoccupied with the hot spike of need to remember even this.
So it's going to be like this, he thinks, even as he buries his gasps against Liem's neck, shuddering into the stroke of his own hand. Far from the seduction he'd envisioned, and yet somehow exactly how he'd known it would happen. In the end, his need is artless and animal, embarrassingly honest. He just wants the pleasure of Liem's body against his own, wants to kiss his dangerous mouth and feel his tender, greedy hands on his skin. But then, the desire between them isn't, has never been particularly complicated, for all that it has Cardan in its clutches so completely. ]
Are you-- [ He pauses, breathes out, swallows; his eyes flutter closed, briefly distracted by his own touch, by the silken feeling of Liem's cock against his own. ] Are you going to make me wait for your bite, Liem?
[ That would be cruel; the only thing crueler would be to make Cardan plead for it again. ]
[Cardan’s reply makes warm amusement twitch at the corners of Liem’s mouth, even as he busies himself with keeping his clever husband breathless with a stream of ardent, deliberate kisses. Despite his teasing, Cardan may come to regret his promise before the night is over; Liem has spent the entirety of the last month wishing he could kiss his husband, and he intends on taking full advantage of every bit of exposed skin his hungry mouth can reach.
Even when Liem himself is still distracted by the feverish slide of Cardan’s cock against his own and the delectable way his lover’s heated breaths break against his throat. Even when his insistent stroking makes Liem arch and sigh with mixed relief and desire that trembles all the way through him, painfully keen.]
Should I? [he muses, lips brushing Cardan’s ear as one hand splays over his ribs. Freed of his mission to divest his lover of his shirt, Liem slides his touch round to run his fingers down the long length of Cardan’s spine, all the way down to his hips. Strange that even the familiar feel of Cardan’s scarred skin beneath his hands should feel so comforting. It feels like home.
And he misses the taste of home, too, even wrapped as he is in his husband’s touch and his husband’s scent. Liem presses a cool, hungry kiss just beneath Cardan’s ear, and the pulse beating there makes lust pulse in his cock and the back of his throat.]
I missed this, too, [he whispers, and with a small hum that turns to a whimper, he sinks his teeth into his husband’s throat.]
[ Contrary to Balekin's many theories on the subject, the mind is bad at remembering pain; it's why Cardan only ever recalls in detail the wild, exhilarating thrill of Liem's bite. It's why the bright, keen spark of hurt is always startling in its intensity -- but especially so now, after a month without. It runs up his spine in a pleasurable shiver; he has to bite his lip and tilt his head back in further invitation, his eyes shut against the pleasure that roils through him.
And still, and still, the ferocity of his relief wrings a helpless, wanton moan from him. Liem wanted him to cease with denial -- well, he's not certain he could deny his husband at all anymore. It's frightening, how Liem's mouth on his throat fills him with not only desire, but also terrible, treacherous tenderness. How foolish, to want to be predated upon; how little he cares about being foolish. ]
I'm so greedy for you, [ he murmurs, because no matter how much Liem may have missed this, he is certain he's missed it more. It's strange that a predator's teeth at his neck should bring him comfort -- but what could be more comforting than his spouse nestled up against him, his scent on Cardan's skin, claimed by him in every way that matters? He can think of no other intimacy as precious as this one. ]
[If Cardan has come back greedy from his trip beneath the waves, at least he is not the only one who has been affected by their long weeks of separation. Blood hits Liem’s tongue, and he bucks into Cardan’s grip, his own fingers digging into bared skin as pleasure riots through him, warm and vibrant and exploding with life. Even when he tries to pause, groaning a heartfelt curse against his lover’s bloodied throat, the wild swell of sensation drags him up against his peak, so relentless he can’t hope to refuse it.
Nor can he refuse the elegant length of Cardan’s freshly bitten neck, tempting him back for another taste—no, a drink, fuller this time. Cardan tastes so divine, and Liem has fasted for so long with only the blood of animals to sustain him. Drowned in indulgence, he abandons the pretense of restraint, squirming against Cardan’s cock as he drinks him down. By the time he drags his tongue up the curve of his neck, Liem is buzzing with sensation and frantic with need, his breath suddenly harsh in his lungs.]
Cardan.
[He breathes the name like a prayer as orgasm overtakes him, erasing everything else, everything but this. Cardan, whose hands are on him, whose blood coats his tongue, whose arms are where he belongs.]
[ He never quite expects this, either: the way tasting blood transforms his spouse. Or maybe his month under the waves has just led him to forget this too -- the astonishing way in which need overtakes Liem, the full, breathtaking spectacle of his indulgence. He's not prepared for it at all. When Liem bucks against him, when his grip grows hard and demanding-- it's shocking, the way it spikes Cardan's lust and his heartbeat alike. How is any man meant to withstand this? The throb of the bite in his neck, the slickness of Liem's mouth wet with Cardan's lifeblood, his delicious, maddening squirming-- how can he do anything but groan, vicious with hunger, and stroke them both urgently closer to the edge? He wants Liem's desire; he wants those harsh, desperate breaths. He would happily let his husband drain him dry if it meant more of this frantic need and helpless reverence in Liem's voice.
It strikes something lean and needy in him, some ancient, terrible hunger. It makes him feel irreplaceable -- like Liem needs him, him specifically, and not just the first handsome, terrible man who decided to stay by his side. He can't help the jealous greed that makes him clutch Liem close, makes him gasp with sensation as his husband spills over his hand. He shudders, his teeth gritting against the onslaught of his own desire, his breathing ragged.
A minute or an hour could have passed by the time he opens his eyes, pulling back just enough to cup Liem's cheek with his hand. He will study the heartbreaking beauty of his husband's face, the serious mouth anointed in Cardan's blood, those strikingly crystalline eyes. It seems like no matter what he does, the tenderness of wanting still pulses in his chest.
He doesn't know what to say. No, that's not true -- he's only half certain that if he opens his mouth, all the awful, too-sincere feelings he has will spill out and ruin a perfectly good reunion.
In the end, he only tilts his face to press his lips to the much-maligned space between Liem's brows, and says nothing at all. ]
[Liem does not come down from his peak so much as float into a shallow trough in his pleasure, the flood of it calmer than before but still quite capable of bobbing him upwards again. He is still too mired in the myriad delights caressing his senses for sobriety to claim him, and in any case, how could any man fail to be greedy for more with Cardan fitted against him, radiant with pleasure and the flush of his exertion? His husband has always been handsome, but at present he looks absolutely delicious.
Liem stares back into his face, entirely seduced by the hand cupping his cheek, manfully resisting the desire to simply nuzzle into that touch like a tame animal. Though he is always hungry for Cardan’s touch, it is especially challenging now to recall why he shouldn’t simply abandon his dignity and give himself entirely to the pleasure of it. The anxiety usually warning him to hold part of himself back won’t quite surface just now, drowned out by every other part of him jointly insisting it would feel so nice…
Especially when Cardan’s soft, warm lips press gently against his brow, and he has to close his eyes against the surge of wild, pathetic eagerness the kiss evokes in him.
It just isn’t fair. It really isn’t fair for Cardan to make his tenderness so rare a commodity, so that Liem has no choice but to covet it with all his unbeating, yearning heart. It would be easier if he had married a gentle man, one who was so free with his affection that Liem could easily reassure himself that he wasn’t special after all for receiving it. Instead he feels the treacherous seed of hope take root each time, knowing he’ll have to make his fingers bleed digging it up again.
In the end, he cannot stop himself from leaning with a soft sigh into Cardan’s touch, or cupping his husband’s warm, elegant hand with his own. He has surely long since convinced his husband already that he is an incurable romantic, anyway. Given Cardan’s proclivities, that doesn’t seem like the end of the world.]
The longer we stay here, [he observes quietly,] the more irritating it will be to journey back to our rooms.
[Mostly, he thinks, because they are bound to become less dressed the longer they remain together in one place—and he does not intend to leave his office while even partially naked.]
[ Of all the things Cardan expects Liem to suggest, journeying back to their rooms is not one of them. Which is stupid, thinking back on it: he should have known. After all, his husband is so enamoured with privacy — and it’s not like they had ever gotten past kissing during any of their pleasant diversions in this office. Perhaps Gusairne’s insistence on being a pest has not been the only thing standing in their way all this time.
The tip of his tail twitches against Liem’s thigh. ]
Husband, [ he says, his tone terrifically pleasant, ] I wish to fuck you very much. [ This, he imagines, is not news. ]
…but if you imagined I’ve the patience for journeying halfway across this mansion, you are being quite insane.
[ Normally he’d do his best to be more considerate of Liem’s comfort, of his desires — for all that Cardan deals gleefully in denial, he has tried his best to give Liem that which he truly wants. But he has made a three days’ journey in half the time, and he most definitely did not do so for the privilege of traversing hallways with the world’s most distracting erection. Even now, he’s achingly hard; just pulling his fingers away from between them both makes him shiver and sink teeth into his lip. He feels nigh-feverish with need, too full of it, his skin hypersensitive to Liem’s cool touch. The idea of doing up his clothes, of dodging servants, all while within reach of his lover’s mouth— it’s impossible. Liem might as well have asked him to gainsay the sun into ceasing its ascent. ]
[The poorly disguised dissatisfaction with which Cardan receives his observation brings a laugh to Liem’s bloodstained lips, spreading them into a grin. He had not expected to be accused so just now, and finds to his own surprise that he is rather delighted.]
You always know just how to charm me.
[His expression is warm as he shivers through the withdrawal of Cardan’s touch from his oversensitive cock, enamoured even now with all the ways they fit together, now that he is once again in his husband’s clutches. Idly, Liem strokes his hand over Cardan’s ribs, fingers splaying and trailing lightly down his belly, wrapped up in the need to touch and keep touching.]
You have the inconvenience of my clothes and my mouth and your own impatience to contend with, and still you wish to fuck me here. Perverse creature.
[Liem’s tongue glides over his bottom lip, tasting the traces of Cardan still wetly clinging there. His husband has already granted him leave to use his mouth on him; it seems the opposite of insanity to use it to address his most immediate problem. Also, Cardan looks so delectably debauched already, he can’t imagine wanting to fuck around with boots and trousers just to fuck here, specifically. Unless his husband has some sentimental attachment to the idea of fucking him as soon as possible, but that seems unlikely to him, particularly after he already opted to enjoy a tormenting little diversion on his knees.]
I think you want very much to finally fuck me here on my desk, [he teases mildly,] and you’re just loath to let the opportunity escape.
Edited (icon was bugging me) 2024-07-14 18:00 (UTC)
[ Liem's cool fingers make his breath catch as they slide down over his abdomen. Combined with the insistent buzz of barely repressed need, it's immensely distracting -- as is the warm, uncommonly pleased expression on Liem's face, baring those dangerous teeth. He's only half paying attention when Liem calls him a perverse creature. Cardan blinks; it is oddly delightful to be so maligned by his proper, polite husband. Perhaps a month without him has emboldened Liem in ways he hadn't anticipated.
It's just that it's difficult to concentrate, still, with the seductive swipe of Liem's tongue over the curve of his lip. His eyes follow the movement, intent and hungry. If Liem truly meant to dissuade him from fucking in the office, he has chosen a truly losing strategy for doing so.
...which doesn't make sense, not really, not even to Cardan's lust-addled mind. He frowns, then glances up, though not before letting his warm thumb trace the path of Liem's tongue, denting the soft skin of Liem's lip. He wants to kiss that tantalizing mouth; it has been at least a couple of minutes since he'd last done so, and it feels like far too long.
Not even Liem's accusation can shift his focus entirely. Still, he will answer to it, because this, too, makes desire flare in his veins. ]
That, [ he replies, with the utmost sincerity, ] I cannot deny.
[ After all, he has imagined it so often; he imagines it now, in vivid, colourful detail. He thinks of Liem's askew shirt and his fingers splayed over the papers. He thinks of how much he's missed this-- burying himself in his husband, feeling every shiver and every sigh, the exquisite grip of his body, the way he moves against Cardan, as if he can't help himself. He wants it, he wants it. He wants it so badly it shivers through him like a fever, aching and terrible. ]
Besides, [ he murmurs, finally allowing himself to lean close, his lips a breath from Liem's, ] I've never thought your mouth an inconvenience.
[ Worse and better things, yes, but not that.
It doesn't matter, anyway. What matters is the simple, greedy joy of kissing his husband, breathless and foolish with desire, regardless of whatever scheme Liem might be herding him towards. ]
[Cardan looks exquisite like this, caught in his own desire, intent and hungry and perhaps also a little suspicious. As always, Liem wants to see more, wants his husband deep in the throes of greed and pushed beyond the limits of his composure. As always, he is distracted, hopelessly and immediately, by the touch caressing his mouth.
There are some things wrong with his idea, he must admit as Cardan leans close. One of those things is that Cardan cannot kiss him if Liem’s mouth is occupied with his cock; and when those warm lips find his again, pulling a little wanting sound from his throat as he meets his kiss, Liem cannot imagine giving them up even to persuade his husband back to their rooms sooner.
He also, for some reason, failed to predict how Cardan’s insistent desire would make him want to drop everything and simply let him have his way.]
Very well.
[His assent is mumbled against Cardan’s mouth, squeezed in between greedy kisses he cannot make himself want to resist. In any case, he badly wants to be fucked; his blood-teased body has not stopped singing with a needy hunger for touch, regardless of his recent orgasm, and the idea of putting himself back together and walking to his room does admittedly sound rather like torture. He would much rather occupy himself by sliding his hands into his husband’s undone trousers to grab his ass.]
Have your wish, then.
[At least, if Cardan can manage to finally finish the job he’d started and get enough of Liem’s clothes off to fuck him—a task Liem shows no obvious inclination to help with.]
[ This is admittedly not where he'd expected Liem's hands to be heading, but Cardan gasps and arches against him anyway, all too eager for his touch. It's obscene, how Liem's kisses always manage to entrap him so completely, his husband's greed only inflaming his own. His own hands slide down to Liem's thighs, curl under him, so that Cardan can lift him up and against his own body. He only means to get Liem off the desk -- as he needs to, if he's going to deal with the trousers -- but he can't help but linger like that, for a moment. Even with impatience burning in his veins and need throbbing through him, he wants to savour the weight of Liem's lithe weight in his arms, pressed up against him so deliciously.
It is a terrible, unrelenting tease. He wants the man in his embrace with a disquieting ferocity; even a thousand lifetimes' worth of kisses could never be enough. His heart flutters in his chest, shot through with the strange pain of yearning. He wants Liem's need and his closeness and his regard, wants his devotion and the care of those tender hands, and the predation of those sharp fangs, and everything else besides.
Never has Cardan wanted so badly to belong to someone else. He has to close his eyes to his own naked longing, has to lean his brow against Liem's, breathe in his ink-and-blood scent. ]
You lay such terrible waste to my composure.
[ The way he sets Liem down on his own feet has the gentleness of reluctance about it. He consoles himself by burying his nose in Liem's soft hair as he leans around his husband, reaching for one of his desk drawers. This he will pull open, then rummage in, even as his arm around Liem's waist keeps him pressed close.
Well, it would be embarrassing if he did all that and then realized he was unprepared.
But, having successfully found the crystal vial he'd sought, he will place it beside some tidily stacked papers, close the drawer, and then hook his fingers decisively in the waistband of Liem's trousers. His villainous grin should spell trouble. ]
[The heated press of Cardan’s body against his sends pleasure racing beneath Liem’s skin, startling an eager breath from him as he clutches tighter at the man in his grasp, his hands dragging possessively up Cardan’s back. He keeps discovering new things to feel greedy about: Cardan’s hungry kisses, Cardan’s intemperate arousal, Cardan’s hands scooping him close like a prized possession, Cardan’s brow pressed gently against his own. He missed so many things about his husband over the past weeks. Having rediscovered these pleasures again, he can’t imagine relinquishing them for anything.]
Good.
[He hasn’t seen his husband in a month; he doesn’t want him to be composed now, when they are finally together again. If Cardan could keep his composure while Liem’s own wants were running rampant through him, bruising in their urgency, Liem doesn’t think he could keep himself from resenting it.
He would much rather have Cardan’s face pressed into his hair and Cardan’s arm hugging him near while his mischievous husband paws through his desk in search of oil Liem didn’t even know was hidden there.]
You are like a busy little jay, stashing treats for the hard months, [he accuses, regarding his husband with an intent look that nevertheless falls well short of being stern.] How long has that been there?
[ Liem's accusation distracts him into a laugh, delighted as he is with the comparison. Never, he thinks, has he been so eager to be disciplined as through his husband's gentle reprimands. ]
Since the time the doctor told you to stop drinking from me, [ he admits. He'd had much extra time, what with the excess of rest he was expected to be taking, and much incentive to tempt Liem into breaking his stubborn promises. Cardan's hand flies up to mold itself to Liem's cheek once more -- and if he kisses him again, fervent and breathless, it's because it will have to hold him over for the next little while. ]
Turn around, husband, will you?
[ It's the obvious choice: since he cannot even hope to get Liem out of his boots without his husband's cooperation, and since Liem seems ill-inclined to humour him, the only option left is not to bother with the boots at all.
And, after all, what could be more delightfully perverse than bending his husband over his own desk? ]
[No matter how difficult his husband might act or how villainous his schemes, Liem remains easily seduced by the softness of Cardan’s hand on his cheek and Cardan’s mouth against his own. The pointed look he aims up at Cardan dissolves beneath that fervent kiss, and Liem forgets the admonishment rising to his lips well before they become unoccupied again. It feels far more urgent to splay his hands over Cardan’s chest and fit himself against him, just for another moment more, to soak up his lover’s kiss like a thirsty, wilted plant.]
Mm…
[Liem’s brows draw together slightly at his husband’s request, and the prospect of relinquishing the warm body beneath his hands and tempting his mouth. His mouth… Cardan did promise to be in reach of it…
Even so, it is only the cozy, delectable feeling of being so indulgently kissed that persuades Liem to acquiesce. He might well agree to anything at all, as long as Cardan murmured it against his mouth with Liem’s face cradled against his palm. Especially with his body pleasantly alert and singing with each covetous touch and each caress of warm breath against his skin. He regards his husband hungrily, his eyes thin rings of pale blue around pupils gone wide and with rapt attention.]
Only because you are so dashingly persuasive.
[He will slide one hand fondly up Cardan’s throat, tenderly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, indulging in the little thrill even this simple pleasure provokes, before finally turning round and spreading his hands on his desk instead.]
[ In the moment, he nearly wishes he weren’t so dashingly persuasive. He is ever greedy: he wants Liem’s mouth and he wants his possessive desire and he wants his lust-darkened gaze. It’s just that he also feels breathless with agonized need; it meddles in his thoughts, makes patience impossible. How he will survive actually fucking his husband, Cardan does not know and does not particularly care.
When Liem turns, Cardan’s hand stays on his cheek — and then slips lower. It is his turn to splay fingers over Liem’s elegant throat, his palm warm against his lover’s cool skin. Looking at him now, Liem hardly seems like the submissive lover his fantasies had always supplied for this scenario. He looks like he usually does at work — the calm, competent young master, except with more dishabille.
As is usual for his fantasies, Cardan finds that he likes this better.
He will, naturally, contribute to Liem’s state of undress by finally, finally pulling the trousers down, off his slim hips, down over his thighs. He only needs them low enough that he can press against Liem, greedy and eager, impatient to feel his nakedness against his own. It sends an electric shiver of lust through him; for a moment, it’s all he can do to breathe through it.
His voice is rough against Liem’s ear. ]
You’re going to have to anoint me, husband.
[ The expectant wriggle of his fingers implies that he means the lube. He imagines he could uncork it one-handed, and he could get the oil over his hand — but the mess might very well make Liem cross, and Cardan is not eager to expand on his current list of offenses. ]
[The erotic, shivery pleasure of Cardan’s hand caressing his throat, Cardan’s body pressed flush against him from behind and Cardan’s voice rumbling low in his ear soon convinces Liem of the merits of this new arrangement. The lips threatening his neck and the greedy presence at his back well and truly occupy his attention, making lust pulse harder through him, already mounting again.]
I am ever at your service, [he murmurs, fingers sliding blindly along the polished wood even as he tips his head to accommodate the hand splayed over his throat. Increasingly, his habitual indulgence of Cardan’s whims has become less a manifestation of duty and more one of hopeless affection. Even when he must spend his efforts in other ways, he remains ever eager for opportunities to please his insatiable spouse—and, always, chances to feel his hands on him.
His fingers close around the vial, carefully prize the stopper out so he can borrow his husband’s hand and pour oil into his palm. Delicately, Liem replaces the vial on the desk and turns his attention to coating Cardan’s long fingers.
Somehow even this little chore, volunteering his hands for his husband before Cardan penetrates him, makes a little thrill heat the space just behind his ribs. Excitement mixes with unbidden sentiment at the prospect of Cardan’s deliberate touch, imminent now after long weeks of absence.
Because he likes being his. He likes spending his effort on things his husband will appreciate; it is far more rewarding than any of his other occupations. And that, in its own right, fills him again with eagerness.]
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He feels too alert, too sensitive to the wanderings of his lover’s hands, the brush of his breath, the scrape of his teeth. Even the hot flesh beneath his palms sparks his hunger too readily—but he can be hungry now, entwined as he is in Cardan’s grasp. He no longer needs to pretend the feeling away.
Liem opens his mouth to say that at least they are of the same mind, that they can indulge their wants together instead of enduring them alone—and gasps at the sudden attention to his hardening nipples. He cannot disagree with his husband: He has missed Cardan’s tormenting, also. His devotion to discovering all the ways he can drive Liem insane is both intimidating and irresistible.]
I am yours to torment, [he agrees breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed in the face of Cardan’s teasing assault. He is certainly tormented by lust—though also, as ever, by his need for his husband to be bared to his affections. Blindly, his hands seek the buttons marching down Cardan’s front, intending to be more thorough than his husband has bothered to be with his own half-undone shirt. He wants the garment off.]
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Ungenerously, he still doesn’t particularly help Liem in his quest to divest him of his shirt. He’s too focused on dragging his mouth over Liem’s elegant collarbones, kissing the hollow of his throat, on teasing those nipples to full wanton hardness. He wishes, at times like these, for more hands, so that he should not have to choose between undressing his husband and touching him.
It turns out that Liem has limited time to achieve his shirt-related goals, because Cardan doesn’t intend to stay within so easy a reach for very long. Already, one of his hands drifts down to traverse Liem’s stomach on its way to his fly. Cardan is eager to slide his fingers inside Liem’s trousers, to curl them around the familiar shape of him. A lush, hot hunger flares in his belly at the feeling of Liem’s arousal.
And when he sinks to his knees shortly thereafter, it’s to follow the call of that same need. Of course, he always wants to put his mouth on Liem — but especially now, when they’re both already so wound up and desperate. He had thought about this for weeks, had wanted it since Liem’s very first letter had arrived in the Undersea: to splay his fingers over Liem’s thighs, pinning him down, trapping him while Cardan has his way with him to his cruel heart’s content.
And, after all, it hardly counts as torment if Cardan wasn’t intending to drive his husband a little insane. ]
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No. For other purposes, too.
[The list of liberties Liem would let his husband take with him is astonishingly long—so long he cannot glimpse its end. He has pledged himself as Cardan’s partner in life, in schemes, and in business. He has promised him his protection and his honesty. He has let Cardan bathe him, hold him while he sleeps, drag him away from his work, and even see him cry.
And frighteningly, he doesn’t regret any of it. He belongs with Cardan; he cannot fathom a way in which he would not wish to be his.
So it is a relief, one that slips from him as a sigh, when Cardan’s fingers trail down to undo his trousers and take him in hand. His own hands fumble on his husband’s buttons—then slip free when Cardan sinks to his knees to menace him further, his shirt still only half undone. It simply means that Liem must lean forward with a sensitized shiver and shove the garment down to his husband’s arms, exposing the graceful lines of his shoulders and neck to his roaming palms.]
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To think that he would come to miss this, too.
He revenges himself by dragging his tongue up the length of Liem's erection, insouciantly unhurried. He doesn't feel unhurried; impatience still burns under his skin, coils urgently in his belly. But, far as he now is from Liem's industrious hands and dangerous teeth, his greed takes on a different dimension. Right now, Cardan wants to taste him; he wants to map the shape of him with his mouth and lips and tongue, wants to coax him to the edge and leave him teetering there, adrift in Cardan's hands. And if doing so gives him time to steel himself against his own desire, so he will not fall apart the moment Liem touches him in earnest -- then all the more reason to indulge. ]
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And yet, hungry though he always is to be in Cardan’s clutches, he feels bereft without his lover’s warm, breathing body in his arms. Even as the slide of Cardan’s tongue rolls through him, coaxing an eager little moan from his throat, his mouth jealously recalls the warmth of Cardan’s kisses, and he yearns for his lover’s long, elegant body caging him against his desk. He has been too long deprived to take this tease with any degree of patience.
It is torment in more ways than one. Liem tries faithfully to recall his patience, despite the leisurely exploration of his cock making him want to squirm, and then swear—but he has been severely short on that particular commodity for the last several days, and even now, with Cardan’s mouth and hands on him, he cannot seem to find it again.]
Cardan, [he growls frustratedly, fingers twitching as they wander from his husband’s pointed ear to the angle of his jaw. Though his touch remains gentle, the flushed look he aims down at Cardan is sharp with impatience.] I have had my fill of denial of late.
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But I have had my fill of denial strikes a discordant note of guilt within him. Still looking up at Liem, he can't help his flicker of a frown -- though it's gone as soon as it shows, and then he's smiling his easy, arrogant smile. He turns his face to lean his cheek into Liem's fingers. ]
Then what would you have of me, husband?
Name it, and it shall be yours.
[ What a foolish thing to offer. Liem could ask for anything -- for his true name, for his deepest secret, for any number of horrifying things Cardan is too besotted to consider. It's just that he doesn't care; it's just that he wants, a little desperately, to be a better husband than he clearly has been. ]
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He doesn’t know how to reconcile this greedy want with his current frustration, nor how to translate it into any kind of immediate action. He doesn’t know why any of this should make him feel so bereft. He only knows that, suddenly, his lover’s position between his thighs is highlighting some untended need that he had been steadfastly ignoring until now, and he cannot bear to have to stare it straight in the face.]
I want…
[Liem frowns down at Cardan, at his arresting dark eyes, at the damp, obscenely alluring curve of his mouth, at the face that has haunted his thoughts and stolen his sleep. He decides what one thing he absolutely cannot do without.]
Whatever you do with me tonight, I insist you be within reach of my mouth.
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So instead, he is upright, bracing himself against the desk with one hand as his other cups Liem’s pale cheek. He had been trying to contain himself; he still is, even though lust pulses through him when he leans into Liem, close enough that his breath will caress his lover’s face. His tone is carefully mild. ]
That will make it difficult to undress you, husband.
[ How is he supposed to remove Liem's boots and trousers while staying within reach of his mouth? How would Liem himself even manage to do it, for that matter? ]
…but I suppose that is your problem, now.
[ Cardan is too busy making sure his promise is fulfilled, and his husband seems intent on not allowing him to bate his hunger — so he won’t. Instead, he kisses Liem like it’s the first and last time: obscene with longing and all of the devouring loneliness he’d felt at the bottom of the sea, week after week after week. His fingers slide into his husband’s hair, keeping him there, even when Cardan has to break to breathe. Even then, he is recklessly cavalier with his air supply; what’s a missed breath here and there when he has a husband who so wants for kissing?
His hands are as greedy as his mouth. The one not in Liem’s hair slides between their bodies, undoing the fastenings of his own trousers. It’s far from the elegant seduction he had planned, but like so many of his lofty schemes, it fades against the stark reality of his desire for the man in his arms. ]
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As though that isn’t one of your favourite pastimes.
[Liem has stopped counting the instances in which his husband made it his mission to hinder him while he undressed, but it has long since become a pattern. He can’t be surprised that Cardan decided at the first opportunity that this was Liem’s problem to solve.
Though at present, Liem shows little inclination to oblige him. He is too busy getting his hands on his husband, indulging the wild eagerness that always comes of having Cardan’s breath brushing his skin and Cardan’s touch gracing his cheek. One hand slides back around his lover’s bare, half-undressed shoulders, holding him possessively close as he claims what he’d so coveted; the other gropes for Cardan’s remaining shirt buttons, more interested in undressing him than himself, even as Cardan assaults his mouth with kiss after hungry kiss.
This is what he’d missed so keenly—what he cannot imagine having his fill of, even if they are tangled in each other all night long: Cardan’s hunger for him. He doesn’t want Cardan to be restrained just now. What he wants is for his husband’s desire to outweigh all his other impulses: his want to indulge his cleverness and his stubborn desire to get his way. He wants him to forget everything but his need for the man in his arms, because without a doubt, Liem already has.]
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Of course it is. I spend few hours of my day not wishing I were indulging in it.
[ Having wrestled open his own trousers, Cardan will take a moment to shrug off his shirt, though the gesture is impatient. All of him is impatient; when he takes himself in hand, the noise that rises from his throat is hungry. When he wraps long, feverish fingers around them both, his breath stutters, too preoccupied with the hot spike of need to remember even this.
So it's going to be like this, he thinks, even as he buries his gasps against Liem's neck, shuddering into the stroke of his own hand. Far from the seduction he'd envisioned, and yet somehow exactly how he'd known it would happen. In the end, his need is artless and animal, embarrassingly honest. He just wants the pleasure of Liem's body against his own, wants to kiss his dangerous mouth and feel his tender, greedy hands on his skin. But then, the desire between them isn't, has never been particularly complicated, for all that it has Cardan in its clutches so completely. ]
Are you-- [ He pauses, breathes out, swallows; his eyes flutter closed, briefly distracted by his own touch, by the silken feeling of Liem's cock against his own. ] Are you going to make me wait for your bite, Liem?
[ That would be cruel; the only thing crueler would be to make Cardan plead for it again. ]
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Even when Liem himself is still distracted by the feverish slide of Cardan’s cock against his own and the delectable way his lover’s heated breaths break against his throat. Even when his insistent stroking makes Liem arch and sigh with mixed relief and desire that trembles all the way through him, painfully keen.]
Should I? [he muses, lips brushing Cardan’s ear as one hand splays over his ribs. Freed of his mission to divest his lover of his shirt, Liem slides his touch round to run his fingers down the long length of Cardan’s spine, all the way down to his hips. Strange that even the familiar feel of Cardan’s scarred skin beneath his hands should feel so comforting. It feels like home.
And he misses the taste of home, too, even wrapped as he is in his husband’s touch and his husband’s scent. Liem presses a cool, hungry kiss just beneath Cardan’s ear, and the pulse beating there makes lust pulse in his cock and the back of his throat.]
I missed this, too, [he whispers, and with a small hum that turns to a whimper, he sinks his teeth into his husband’s throat.]
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And still, and still, the ferocity of his relief wrings a helpless, wanton moan from him. Liem wanted him to cease with denial -- well, he's not certain he could deny his husband at all anymore. It's frightening, how Liem's mouth on his throat fills him with not only desire, but also terrible, treacherous tenderness. How foolish, to want to be predated upon; how little he cares about being foolish. ]
I'm so greedy for you, [ he murmurs, because no matter how much Liem may have missed this, he is certain he's missed it more. It's strange that a predator's teeth at his neck should bring him comfort -- but what could be more comforting than his spouse nestled up against him, his scent on Cardan's skin, claimed by him in every way that matters? He can think of no other intimacy as precious as this one. ]
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Nor can he refuse the elegant length of Cardan’s freshly bitten neck, tempting him back for another taste—no, a drink, fuller this time. Cardan tastes so divine, and Liem has fasted for so long with only the blood of animals to sustain him. Drowned in indulgence, he abandons the pretense of restraint, squirming against Cardan’s cock as he drinks him down. By the time he drags his tongue up the curve of his neck, Liem is buzzing with sensation and frantic with need, his breath suddenly harsh in his lungs.]
Cardan.
[He breathes the name like a prayer as orgasm overtakes him, erasing everything else, everything but this. Cardan, whose hands are on him, whose blood coats his tongue, whose arms are where he belongs.]
Cardan—
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It strikes something lean and needy in him, some ancient, terrible hunger. It makes him feel irreplaceable -- like Liem needs him, him specifically, and not just the first handsome, terrible man who decided to stay by his side. He can't help the jealous greed that makes him clutch Liem close, makes him gasp with sensation as his husband spills over his hand. He shudders, his teeth gritting against the onslaught of his own desire, his breathing ragged.
A minute or an hour could have passed by the time he opens his eyes, pulling back just enough to cup Liem's cheek with his hand. He will study the heartbreaking beauty of his husband's face, the serious mouth anointed in Cardan's blood, those strikingly crystalline eyes. It seems like no matter what he does, the tenderness of wanting still pulses in his chest.
He doesn't know what to say. No, that's not true -- he's only half certain that if he opens his mouth, all the awful, too-sincere feelings he has will spill out and ruin a perfectly good reunion.
In the end, he only tilts his face to press his lips to the much-maligned space between Liem's brows, and says nothing at all. ]
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Liem stares back into his face, entirely seduced by the hand cupping his cheek, manfully resisting the desire to simply nuzzle into that touch like a tame animal. Though he is always hungry for Cardan’s touch, it is especially challenging now to recall why he shouldn’t simply abandon his dignity and give himself entirely to the pleasure of it. The anxiety usually warning him to hold part of himself back won’t quite surface just now, drowned out by every other part of him jointly insisting it would feel so nice…
Especially when Cardan’s soft, warm lips press gently against his brow, and he has to close his eyes against the surge of wild, pathetic eagerness the kiss evokes in him.
It just isn’t fair. It really isn’t fair for Cardan to make his tenderness so rare a commodity, so that Liem has no choice but to covet it with all his unbeating, yearning heart. It would be easier if he had married a gentle man, one who was so free with his affection that Liem could easily reassure himself that he wasn’t special after all for receiving it. Instead he feels the treacherous seed of hope take root each time, knowing he’ll have to make his fingers bleed digging it up again.
In the end, he cannot stop himself from leaning with a soft sigh into Cardan’s touch, or cupping his husband’s warm, elegant hand with his own. He has surely long since convinced his husband already that he is an incurable romantic, anyway. Given Cardan’s proclivities, that doesn’t seem like the end of the world.]
The longer we stay here, [he observes quietly,] the more irritating it will be to journey back to our rooms.
[Mostly, he thinks, because they are bound to become less dressed the longer they remain together in one place—and he does not intend to leave his office while even partially naked.]
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The tip of his tail twitches against Liem’s thigh. ]
Husband, [ he says, his tone terrifically pleasant, ] I wish to fuck you very much. [ This, he imagines, is not news. ]
…but if you imagined I’ve the patience for journeying halfway across this mansion, you are being quite insane.
[ Normally he’d do his best to be more considerate of Liem’s comfort, of his desires — for all that Cardan deals gleefully in denial, he has tried his best to give Liem that which he truly wants. But he has made a three days’ journey in half the time, and he most definitely did not do so for the privilege of traversing hallways with the world’s most distracting erection. Even now, he’s achingly hard; just pulling his fingers away from between them both makes him shiver and sink teeth into his lip. He feels nigh-feverish with need, too full of it, his skin hypersensitive to Liem’s cool touch. The idea of doing up his clothes, of dodging servants, all while within reach of his lover’s mouth— it’s impossible. Liem might as well have asked him to gainsay the sun into ceasing its ascent. ]
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You always know just how to charm me.
[His expression is warm as he shivers through the withdrawal of Cardan’s touch from his oversensitive cock, enamoured even now with all the ways they fit together, now that he is once again in his husband’s clutches. Idly, Liem strokes his hand over Cardan’s ribs, fingers splaying and trailing lightly down his belly, wrapped up in the need to touch and keep touching.]
You have the inconvenience of my clothes and my mouth and your own impatience to contend with, and still you wish to fuck me here. Perverse creature.
[Liem’s tongue glides over his bottom lip, tasting the traces of Cardan still wetly clinging there. His husband has already granted him leave to use his mouth on him; it seems the opposite of insanity to use it to address his most immediate problem. Also, Cardan looks so delectably debauched already, he can’t imagine wanting to fuck around with boots and trousers just to fuck here, specifically. Unless his husband has some sentimental attachment to the idea of fucking him as soon as possible, but that seems unlikely to him, particularly after he already opted to enjoy a tormenting little diversion on his knees.]
I think you want very much to finally fuck me here on my desk, [he teases mildly,] and you’re just loath to let the opportunity escape.
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It's just that it's difficult to concentrate, still, with the seductive swipe of Liem's tongue over the curve of his lip. His eyes follow the movement, intent and hungry. If Liem truly meant to dissuade him from fucking in the office, he has chosen a truly losing strategy for doing so.
...which doesn't make sense, not really, not even to Cardan's lust-addled mind. He frowns, then glances up, though not before letting his warm thumb trace the path of Liem's tongue, denting the soft skin of Liem's lip. He wants to kiss that tantalizing mouth; it has been at least a couple of minutes since he'd last done so, and it feels like far too long.
Not even Liem's accusation can shift his focus entirely. Still, he will answer to it, because this, too, makes desire flare in his veins. ]
That, [ he replies, with the utmost sincerity, ] I cannot deny.
[ After all, he has imagined it so often; he imagines it now, in vivid, colourful detail. He thinks of Liem's askew shirt and his fingers splayed over the papers. He thinks of how much he's missed this-- burying himself in his husband, feeling every shiver and every sigh, the exquisite grip of his body, the way he moves against Cardan, as if he can't help himself. He wants it, he wants it. He wants it so badly it shivers through him like a fever, aching and terrible. ]
Besides, [ he murmurs, finally allowing himself to lean close, his lips a breath from Liem's, ] I've never thought your mouth an inconvenience.
[ Worse and better things, yes, but not that.
It doesn't matter, anyway. What matters is the simple, greedy joy of kissing his husband, breathless and foolish with desire, regardless of whatever scheme Liem might be herding him towards. ]
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There are some things wrong with his idea, he must admit as Cardan leans close. One of those things is that Cardan cannot kiss him if Liem’s mouth is occupied with his cock; and when those warm lips find his again, pulling a little wanting sound from his throat as he meets his kiss, Liem cannot imagine giving them up even to persuade his husband back to their rooms sooner.
He also, for some reason, failed to predict how Cardan’s insistent desire would make him want to drop everything and simply let him have his way.]
Very well.
[His assent is mumbled against Cardan’s mouth, squeezed in between greedy kisses he cannot make himself want to resist. In any case, he badly wants to be fucked; his blood-teased body has not stopped singing with a needy hunger for touch, regardless of his recent orgasm, and the idea of putting himself back together and walking to his room does admittedly sound rather like torture. He would much rather occupy himself by sliding his hands into his husband’s undone trousers to grab his ass.]
Have your wish, then.
[At least, if Cardan can manage to finally finish the job he’d started and get enough of Liem’s clothes off to fuck him—a task Liem shows no obvious inclination to help with.]
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It is a terrible, unrelenting tease. He wants the man in his embrace with a disquieting ferocity; even a thousand lifetimes' worth of kisses could never be enough. His heart flutters in his chest, shot through with the strange pain of yearning. He wants Liem's need and his closeness and his regard, wants his devotion and the care of those tender hands, and the predation of those sharp fangs, and everything else besides.
Never has Cardan wanted so badly to belong to someone else. He has to close his eyes to his own naked longing, has to lean his brow against Liem's, breathe in his ink-and-blood scent. ]
You lay such terrible waste to my composure.
[ The way he sets Liem down on his own feet has the gentleness of reluctance about it. He consoles himself by burying his nose in Liem's soft hair as he leans around his husband, reaching for one of his desk drawers. This he will pull open, then rummage in, even as his arm around Liem's waist keeps him pressed close.
Well, it would be embarrassing if he did all that and then realized he was unprepared.
But, having successfully found the crystal vial he'd sought, he will place it beside some tidily stacked papers, close the drawer, and then hook his fingers decisively in the waistband of Liem's trousers. His villainous grin should spell trouble. ]
Luckily, my resourcefulness has only grown.
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Good.
[He hasn’t seen his husband in a month; he doesn’t want him to be composed now, when they are finally together again. If Cardan could keep his composure while Liem’s own wants were running rampant through him, bruising in their urgency, Liem doesn’t think he could keep himself from resenting it.
He would much rather have Cardan’s face pressed into his hair and Cardan’s arm hugging him near while his mischievous husband paws through his desk in search of oil Liem didn’t even know was hidden there.]
You are like a busy little jay, stashing treats for the hard months, [he accuses, regarding his husband with an intent look that nevertheless falls well short of being stern.] How long has that been there?
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Since the time the doctor told you to stop drinking from me, [ he admits. He'd had much extra time, what with the excess of rest he was expected to be taking, and much incentive to tempt Liem into breaking his stubborn promises. Cardan's hand flies up to mold itself to Liem's cheek once more -- and if he kisses him again, fervent and breathless, it's because it will have to hold him over for the next little while. ]
Turn around, husband, will you?
[ It's the obvious choice: since he cannot even hope to get Liem out of his boots without his husband's cooperation, and since Liem seems ill-inclined to humour him, the only option left is not to bother with the boots at all.
And, after all, what could be more delightfully perverse than bending his husband over his own desk? ]
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Mm…
[Liem’s brows draw together slightly at his husband’s request, and the prospect of relinquishing the warm body beneath his hands and tempting his mouth. His mouth… Cardan did promise to be in reach of it…
Even so, it is only the cozy, delectable feeling of being so indulgently kissed that persuades Liem to acquiesce. He might well agree to anything at all, as long as Cardan murmured it against his mouth with Liem’s face cradled against his palm. Especially with his body pleasantly alert and singing with each covetous touch and each caress of warm breath against his skin. He regards his husband hungrily, his eyes thin rings of pale blue around pupils gone wide and with rapt attention.]
Only because you are so dashingly persuasive.
[He will slide one hand fondly up Cardan’s throat, tenderly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, indulging in the little thrill even this simple pleasure provokes, before finally turning round and spreading his hands on his desk instead.]
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When Liem turns, Cardan’s hand stays on his cheek — and then slips lower. It is his turn to splay fingers over Liem’s elegant throat, his palm warm against his lover’s cool skin. Looking at him now, Liem hardly seems like the submissive lover his fantasies had always supplied for this scenario. He looks like he usually does at work — the calm, competent young master, except with more dishabille.
As is usual for his fantasies, Cardan finds that he likes this better.
He will, naturally, contribute to Liem’s state of undress by finally, finally pulling the trousers down, off his slim hips, down over his thighs. He only needs them low enough that he can press against Liem, greedy and eager, impatient to feel his nakedness against his own. It sends an electric shiver of lust through him; for a moment, it’s all he can do to breathe through it.
His voice is rough against Liem’s ear. ]
You’re going to have to anoint me, husband.
[ The expectant wriggle of his fingers implies that he means the lube. He imagines he could uncork it one-handed, and he could get the oil over his hand — but the mess might very well make Liem cross, and Cardan is not eager to expand on his current list of offenses. ]
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I am ever at your service, [he murmurs, fingers sliding blindly along the polished wood even as he tips his head to accommodate the hand splayed over his throat. Increasingly, his habitual indulgence of Cardan’s whims has become less a manifestation of duty and more one of hopeless affection. Even when he must spend his efforts in other ways, he remains ever eager for opportunities to please his insatiable spouse—and, always, chances to feel his hands on him.
His fingers close around the vial, carefully prize the stopper out so he can borrow his husband’s hand and pour oil into his palm. Delicately, Liem replaces the vial on the desk and turns his attention to coating Cardan’s long fingers.
Somehow even this little chore, volunteering his hands for his husband before Cardan penetrates him, makes a little thrill heat the space just behind his ribs. Excitement mixes with unbidden sentiment at the prospect of Cardan’s deliberate touch, imminent now after long weeks of absence.
Because he likes being his. He likes spending his effort on things his husband will appreciate; it is far more rewarding than any of his other occupations. And that, in its own right, fills him again with eagerness.]
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