[The look Cardan spears him with as he paints kisses over his cock has excitement sizzling in Liem’s stomach and sparking beneath his skin. He’s held tight by that gaze, despite the way the heated caresses smearing over sensitive skin make his lashes dip and his breaths go heavy with impatience.
Cardan is so dangerous like this. The force of his desire pins Liem like a weight, sparks him alight, filling him with his own helpless need to indulge his every demand. He simply cannot resist it; not for the first time, it occurs to him that if Cardan continued to demand his pleasure even after nightfall, Liem would be powerless to object at all. How could he? There is nothing in the world he wants more than Cardan’s hungry obsession, no matter how inconvenient or ill-timed.
Even when Cardan teases him like this, making him ache with cruelly mounting frustration. Even when he drinks in Liem’s hurried, unsteady breaths with an obvious greed that only demands ever more. More desire, more desperation, more indulgence, more and more without end, so Cardan’s greed is only ever stoked by the storm of Liem’s arousal.
Until he swallows Liem up, and drags a sudden moan from him as he arches against the sheets.]
Ah—
[Suddenly the slide of Cardan’s mouth is not teasing at all, and pleasure rolls into Liem hard enough to rob him of every remaining thought. He trembles beneath his lover’s touch, and his sudden grip in Cardan’s hair might seem punitive if not for the hunger in his expression.]
[ He moans, too, indulgent and obscene against Liem's cock, spurred on by the hard grip in his hair and the obvious pleasure in his husband's voice. His tail swishes side to side, demonstrative in his self-satisfaction. Still, his forearm is unforgiving as it pins Liem's hips to the bed. He is merciless about this, not because he couldn't take it -- Liem fucking up into his mouth -- but because he loves this, too, loves feeling him tense and strained under his hands, loves the thrill of power that comes with the control.
Besides, Liem should hardly need to move: Cardan is ruthless in working him, his hand and mouth exacting in their demand for his pleasure. He never feels so heated as when he's with Liem, like he's made of fire and need alone, like he can breathe heat into his husband just by touching him. When he finally needs to come up to breathe, he will do so by drawing his tongue up the underside of Liem's cock, luxuriating in the familiar shape of him. It feels indulgent, this, to have him so unreservedly after such a long time away. ]
I want to never let you go, [ he murmurs, and when he looks up at Liem, his breath stutters in his chest, just a little bit. It's only that he is so heartbreakingly beautiful when hunger takes him; it's only that Cardan feels a little pierced by the look in his bright eyes.
He swallows, breathes, and then dips back down, to cover the hammering of his heart with the eager caress of his mouth, so that Liem's desire may help obfuscate his own. ]
[It seems a wonder that Cardan has breath and wit left to say anything at all, in between the ardent efforts that have so thoroughly robbed Liem of his own faculties. Liem cannot recall what he was saying before, or how he might have meant to finish his thought. He is too overcome by the urgent heat of Cardan’s mouth and the caress of his hand, demanding his pleasure so he has no choice but to surrender it without reserve, trading coherence for the ragged gasps and soft, stuttered moans that his husband pulls from him time after time.
It’s so easy to let him. The hands demanding his submission are so familiar. The dark eyes staring back at him invite him to fall into them. He lives for this; he loves being Cardan’s, loves giving him everything, again and again. Being his feels safe; it feels right. And it makes him dare to not just want more, but expect it. He cannot recall ever before feeling this indulged.
When Cardan swallows him up again, Liem lets the sensation swallow him up too.
He still feels greedy for him. As his pleasure swells with each tight, heated stroke, as Liem drowns in him, still he wants impossibly more—more tenderness, more hunger, more of that aching want that makes hopeful anxiety flutter unbidden in his stomach. Like the sweet, seductive blood in his veins, Cardan makes Liem crave him more with each indulgence, until he is desperate with it, overwhelmed and taut with the urgency of his pleasure. Until his want for him consumes everything, leaving just one thought in his head, right at the heart of that storm of sensation.]
[ He is never sure what he wants in moments like this -- or rather, it is that he wants too many things at once. He wants to see Liem come, wants to feel the tension build in his body, beautiful with strain, and then flow out of him all at once. Cardan wants to taste him on his tongue and watch him subside in languid relaxation--
And he wants the opposite just as well: to watch his husband teeter on the edge, to count his tortured breaths when relief is snatched away from him just in time. He wants to be generous and cruel and tender and punishing, all at once. Always, always, he wants everything Liem has to give him.
But he is, as ever, a terrible man. He will wait-- will stroke that tension higher, will take Liem deeper into the heat of his mouth, devout in his efforts. Only when his husband says his name like that, soft and caught and desperate--
Only then will he breathe in, and then he will stop, pulling his mouth off with a languid, casual movement. The smile he aims up at Liem is tremendously predatory, all teeth and tender malice. ]
Liem. My dearest, delectable Liem--
[ He's a little hoarse with it. The hand on Liem's cock does not stop moving -- feather-light, restless caresses, as if Cardan cannot quite help but touch him, despite his villainous intent. ]
Don't come. Not yet. I want to feel you.
[ He wants to be fucking him, is what he means, and the thought makes his heart speed with avarice. ]
[Somehow, he doesn’t come. Somehow, when Cardan pulls away to smile up at him, menacing in his languid affection, Liem stops himself short. Even though he can still feel his lover’s breath warm on his skin. Even though Cardan’s touch still slides teasingly over his aching, eager cock. Liem whimpers in frustrated objection, teeth digging into his lip, but somehow he keeps the impatience Cardan has fostered from nudging him over the edge.
But he is still impatient, especially when Cardan calls him delectable. It is a torment, this tender, teasing denial, and although Cardan is the one calling him irresistible, Liem doubts his husband could possibly feel any more feverish for his body than he already is for his touch. He is already so desperate, even his husband’s idle little caresses keep Liem trembling with cruelly indulged need.
And he loves it. He loves being like this for Cardan and no one else. He loves how only Cardan can make him feel this way, more alive and eager and coveted than any fantasy ever could.]
Hah… [His breaths are still restless as he gazes down at Cardan, focusing on him again with an effort.] But you just can’t resist… getting your mouth on me…
No, [ he admits, easily. His eyes meet Liem's, and he's still smiling, except that now fondness creeps into the corners of his mouth, makes his black gaze soft in a way he doesn't quite intend. Liem always does this to him -- always lays bare Cardan's affection, whether he likes it or not.
It's just that it is impossible to see Liem so, trembling and tormented, and not feel a little awed to have him. Awed, and desperately horny; Liem is not the only one aching with need. Cardan feels feverish with it, oversensitive and impatient. The arm pinning Liem's hips retreats; instead, his hand draws up his husband's thigh, greedy to feel him, to touch him. ]
I love putting my mouth on you.
[ He's too aware of it when he says things like this, now. I love the way you look in this tie. I love the hideous wallpaper you put in the sitting room. I love the touch of those hands, and the taste of that mouth, and the way your breath slides out of you when I take you in my arms. Dozens of little loves sprinkled through their nights -- pieces of a bigger, more frightening thing, one that he cannot voice at all.
And Liem is right: he cannot resist. It's why he leans in, hot breath ghosting over Liem's cock -- and then pauses. The look he flicks up at Liem's face is evaluating. ]
Are you going to come? Be honest.
[ His smile suggests there's a right answer and a wrong answer, but also that he's inclined to be generous even if Liem says yes. Probably. ]
[Liem is so easily distracted by the fluttering he feels in his stomach whenever Cardan looks at him with that indulgent fondness. He would weather anything, suffer any whim no matter how cruel, to see Cardan smile at him like that, again and again and again. Even the lurking threat of his climax, still tormenting him with each teasing slide of skin or brush of breath against his cock, pales in comparison to his helpless desire to earn another scrap of his lover’s warmth.
He is so hopelessly at Cardan’s mercy. At this point, the question is not whether his husband has noticed, because that ship has surely long sailed, but how ruthlessly he intends to take advantage now that he has.]
Ah…
[Is he going to come? Liem cannot help but view the question as a challenge, one he might pit himself against in order to earn more of his lover’s pleasure. Given his insatiable desire for Cardan’s approval, he doesn’t even consciously intend the steadying breath he takes as he considers the question, or the stubbornness that settles into his expression as he stares back at him.]
No, [he insists, in spite of the lust still pulsing through him. It’s not a lie, though calling it truth might be a little optimistic; it is a promise, more than anything.
But even a mundane promise must carry its own kind of magic, he thinks; what else would you call the power of words that can bring about a new reality when spoken? Not because of any outside force, but through simple dedication to seeing it through, turning solid and real where nothing existed before. That must be worth something.]
[ His smile widens to a grin, quick and bright. He hadn't intended to torment his husband with denial -- not terribly, anyway. But Liem is so sensitive, so responsive to his touch; it makes Cardan want to spend forever like this, mouth wrapped fervently around his hard cock. Liem's stubbornness is so charming; Cardan loves the way his reasonable, sensible husband seems eager to throw caution away in the service of pleasing him. It makes a ruthless, needy delight coil in his belly -- makes him a little breathless around his own aching arousal. Need pulses hard in his throat, and for a moment he must close his eyes and steel himself.
He goes slow. He knows what Liem looks like when he's caught up in pleasure; despite his promise, Cardan knows that he's still close. If he redoubled his efforts, he is certain he could prove Liem a liar -- but for once, that's not what he wants. He intends for it to be just a little difficult, wants to see Liem squirm and whine and bury his hands in Cardan's hair. And he wants to taste him, still. He always, always does. When he drags his tongue up the shaft, when he paints heated, slow kisses over the head -- it's because he's missed this. It's because he spent a month not having him, and even though he wants to fuck Liem desperately, it's difficult to pull himself away. Liem's pleasure is addictive; the feeling that he's at Cardan's mercy is addictive. He wants both, so terribly much--
And they can both take this, surely, for just a little while longer. ]
[Even though Liem knows full well that he has only signed himself up for further torment, he cannot regret his answer in the face of that bright, immediate grin. He cannot resist the chance to let Cardan amuse himself at his expense. He is like an addict, aching unceasingly for his lover’s touch, no matter how slow or how slight. Because it’s Cardan; because the prospect of being Cardan’s plaything always fills him with such helpless excitement, throbbing beneath his skin like thunder no matter his own impatience.
Which makes his promise especially foolish. Cardan does not have to work especially hard to coax his breaths into heavy, restless pants, or to earn Liem’s fingers carding distractedly through his hair, or to hear him whine with frustration as he tries to keep to his word despite the rolling crests of his pleasure. Liem tips his face aside to press it against the sheets, trembling with aborted little squirms with each slide of Cardan’s tongue and each slow, teasing kiss caressing sensitive skin. It is torture, and for all that he claimed he would withstand it, he’s not even sure that he actually can.
But he wants to, so very badly. Even if he can hardly think around his own arousal. Even if the tease of it is driving him mad.]
He knows it the moment Liem moans his name. It's the feeling of him shifting restlessly beneath Cardan, the beautiful way he tenses. Cardan is so enamoured by those things, so helplessly caught in his lover's allure, that he cannot think of anything else. Desire rakes through him -- his and Liem's alike.
So he can only pull away, for the second time, to press a breathless kiss to Liem's hip. For just a heartbeat, he will rest there, his hot forehead against Liem's flank, before he starts his ascent. If the route of kisses he maps up Liem's body is gradual, if he goes slowly, it's because he needs time to compose himself -- so that when he's finally atop Liem, caging him in with the long line of his body, he doesn't look as desperate as he feels.
His gaze is a little feverish with obsession. But the smugness still finds its way into the curl of his mouth, even as he cups Liem's face in a tender hand. ]
You make tormenting you so rewarding. How remarkable you are.
[ And how badly Cardan needs to kiss his serious mouth -- and then strip him, and then fuck him. It feels like he has waited an eternity and a half for this alone. ]
[At times like this, when he is overwhelmed with Cardan’s touch and sensation is all he can think about, Liem feels like he’s cheated his way into some perfect happiness that was never meant for him. There is no reasonable way this could be his: this shared pleasure that touches everything, that feels like it belongs to them alone, perfect in its raw, unguarded intimacy. Cardan’s mouth pressed against his hip as he throbs with need for him, Cardan’s fevered brow resting against his skin, Cardan’s unhurried kisses wandering back up his body like every good dream he’s ever had.
The moment feels stolen, but he has no intention of relinquishing it. Liem arches into the pleasurable heat of it, senselessly eager, and lets his own touch drag along his lover’s ribs, palms sliding covetously down Cardan’s flanks and round to his back, until his arms are around him, keeping him there.
This belongs to him. The warm, tender hand cupping his face is his. The lean body covering his own is his. The smug, covetous regard with which Cardan beholds him is his, also. He intends to keep all these precious things for himself, because he wants them too badly to do anything else.
What could he possibly say that wouldn’t immediately lay bare the starved extent of his wanting? His mind is empty of everything but Cardan. Pinned by that black stare, he can only give in to his own greed and kiss him with all the bruised, helpless longing in his hungry heart.]
[ Kissing Liem is immediately overwhelming -- but then it always is. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, raw with hunger, and resists the urge to plaster himself to his husband, because he already knows he won't be able to pull away.
They need to move. They need to undress. Unfortunately, Cardan's brain is too overheated to excel at logistics. Fortunately, he knows a man who has made logistics his entire raison d'être, and who loves punishment, and whose hunger may be the only thing eclipsing Cardan's own.
He slips his arm beneath them -- beneath Liem's slim back, wrapping around him even as he does, finally, sink against his husband fully. The moan that stutters from him is a little helpless, but he cannot focus on that, either. Instead, he pulls back to pant against Liem's cheek, tighten his grip, and then roll them over.
This is worse: hornier, more rife with anticipation. But it doesn't matter, because he's going to slide his hands up to cup Liem's sharp-featured, lovely face, and he's going to smirk up at him, all sleaze and lurid promise. ]
You are too dressed. I am most definitely too dressed.
[ Despite the horny torment he's experiencing, his voice remains silken with menace. ]
[The distraction of rolling around with his warm, delectable husband keeps Liem happily occupied right up until Cardan leers up at him and demands that Liem get them both undressed. At this point, a frown overtakes him as he looks back at his spouse. He likes having his husband laid out beneath him; this position makes Cardan seem especially kissable, and Liem does not relish the prospect of tearing himself away from him to strip off their shoes.]
I suppose that is only fair, [he says, even though it feels profoundly unfair to have to give up the lithe body currently trapped beneath his own. He will lean down and steal another kiss as payment, wriggling his hips against his husband’s to see if he can earn another moan—they may as well both suffer, if this is how it’s going to be.
Then he pushes himself back, out of Cardan’s lap, and starts by making their clothing situations more equitable; if he is to take care of them both, he really should tend to his neglected husband first. As his busy fingers make short work of Cardan’s fly, Liem regards his unfairly edible, erotic-looking spouse. Liem desperately wants his touch, wants his mouth and his hands all over him, wants to feel that familiar hunger painted against his skin as he rides him. And he wants to hear Cardan murmur the desperate little nothings that always seem to escape him when he’s overtaken with greed.]
You really make me hunger so for your attention.
[But he can’t have his wish just yet. First, he has to take care of his husband—and he begins by slipping off the bed’s edge and dragging Cardan’s pants down his thighs, just as his obliging husband did for him.]
[ Liem's saucy wriggle is a delicious little shock; Cardan gasps with it, his teeth grazing his husband's lip in retribution -- but Liem is already pulling away. Despite that he is the architect of his own frustration, Cardan immediately misses having him close. For a fleeting moment, just half a breath and no longer, his mouth turns downward, mimicking his husband's brief frown. His restless fingers find Liem's shoulder, the line of his neck and his jaw, his mouth--
And then Liem is out of his reach, and a moment later, so are Cardan's trousers. He breathes in, a little sharp -- and then laughs, rising up onto his elbows. How uncommonly vengeful of his gentle lover. Still, it's a relief to be freed from the confines of clothing, even if the air feels startlingly cool on his overheated, oversensitive skin. It makes impatience simmer under his skin; if Liem touched him now, he's not entirely sure that he could hold back from needing to fuck him right that moment.
The grin he directs at Liem is almost helplessly charmed. ]
Is it not anticipation that makes the meal sweeter?
[ He shifts to stretch, the movement luxurious in spite of the fabric halfway down his legs and the shoes still very much on his royal feet. Well, he's had a lifetime's practice looking dignified in various stages of dishevelment. ]
Even though you already have my undivided attention.
[One of the things Liem is learning in his marriage is that no one makes him yearn for things he already has quite like Cardan. He is ever hungry for his husband’s touch, his affection, his regard, even though Cardan has never once denied him these things. It is hopelessly distracting, and though he already has his task to occupy him, he still aches with impatience as his gaze sweeps up his lover’s reclining, half-bare form.
But he cannot deny what Cardan has said. He looks delectable, and Liem has come to truly relish the torment of his own anticipation.]
So you say.
[He smiles. It must be the truth—but he thinks his lover could be yet more occupied with desire than he already is. After all, he has often surprised himself, when Cardan is touching him, by achieving new heights of obsession that he hadn’t dreamed still existed.
Tugging Cardan’s pants down until they’re bunched just above his boots, Liem slides his hands up his husband’s calves and then his thighs, spreading them further apart so he might situate himself between them. As he slides his hands back down towards his husband’s boot, so he might prop it against his leg and undo the fastenings, Liem dips his mouth down to Cardan’s exposed inner thigh. His hands are occupied with the boot—but with his mouth he wanders the tender skin there, brushing kisses over his husband’s thigh before stamping a love bite partway up.
If anticipation sweetens the meal, his husband must be due for a true delight by now. But still, that is Cardan’s own doing. Greedy as his lover has made him, Liem cannot resist the desire to tease his impatience himself.]
[ Cardan has grown so good at pretending that he isn't losing his mind. How often does he stare at Liem across a dinner table at some tedious event, counting down the minutes until he can herd him into the carriage and get his hands all over him? How many times has Gusairne walked in on them in the office, and he'd had to pull away and pretend that he was merely irritated instead of desperately horny?
And yet, and yet, none of those experiences seem to prepare him for the times Liem decides to repay him for his mischief. He wants to squirm under the caress of that dangerous mouth along the vulnerable, sensitive skin of his thigh, though he doesn't -- only his tail lashes, agitated. The mark Liem leaves makes him close his eyes and bite his lip in his effort to keep still. Lust coils in his belly, throbs through his flushed cock, hot and intoxicating. Not seeing Liem makes it worse -- makes Cardan focus more on his touch, makes him unpredictable and therefore more dangerously thrilling.
Liem hasn't even finished removing Cardan's boots, let alone his own clothing.
Cardan takes a very deliberate breath.
When his eyes open again, the expression on his face will shift. There is a kind of measured, careful arrogance in the curl of his mouth and the half-lidded stare he directs at Liem: it's the face he wears when he's in peril, and about to make it worse.
He props himself up further, to sitting, and then works a lazy hand down his own stomach to wrap around his cock. The next breath in is more of a gasp, but he keeps the arrogant half-smile and deliberate gaze. He knows, even before the first, unhurried stroke, that he's not going to last even a little bit if he keeps it up -- but since Liem clearly isn't worried about this, then Cardan isn't going to be, either. ]
Husband, [ he says, and doesn't bother to hide the breathy hitch in his voice. ] One more thing.
[It’s possible that of late Liem has become too used to his husband indulging him. He has stopped fearing the repercussions of taking liberties with his prideful spouse, and started expecting that Cardan will continue to find him charming no matter how bold he is with his person. Even now, as Cardan’s tail thrashes against the bed and the stare he aims at Liem turns deliberate, stubbornness urges Liem on. He likes seeing Cardan come undone; he doesn’t think it’s unreasonable that he should want to enjoy the same pleasure that Cardan has already indulged in.
Especially when he is still doing as his husband asked. Liem eases off one of his husband’s boots as he looks up from his thigh, and then moves on to the other, still diligent despite the calculating mischief lurking behind his gaze.]
What is that, Cardan?
[His eyes wander Cardan with hungry interest, sliding from his mouth down his body, following the movement of his hand as it caresses his erection. The look doesn’t falter even then, as though he doesn’t feel at all snubbed every time Cardan touches himself in front of him. His hands continue their measured work in removing Cardan’s other boot.
But as he nuzzles idly against his husband’s thigh, Liem still continues to stare at him, expectant.]
[ What he was planning on was giving Liem further clothing-related tasks -- busywork, meant to punish him just a little for testing Cardan's patience so deliberately. It's just that Liem's mouth is still on his skin, and that bright blue gaze rakes over his body, and suddenly Cardan's mouth has gone dry. Suddenly, his own hand is woefully insufficient in the face of his impatience.
He cannot take this without going insane.
His grasp pulls away from his own cock. Instead, he curls warm fingers over Liem's jaw, thumb flirting with the soft curve of his lover's bottom lip. The tip of his tail twitches, betraying all the fidgety restlessness Cardan is suppressing -- but what can he do but ignore it and hope that Liem does the same? ]
If you are going to use your mouth, [ Cardan tells him, somehow managing to keep his tone measured, ] go all the way, Liem.
[ Because, hypocritically, he has no patience for being teased at the moment. He never really has much patience for being teased at all -- but especially not when he's already so tormented by desire, so overheated and aching for his lover. At least if Liem were sucking him off, his breathless reaction would feel more proportional and less hopelessly besotted. ]
[Liem is ever menaced by those warm hands, and the familiar flutter of lust he feels when Cardan’s thumb brushes against his lip. Ever since the very first time, all those nights ago on that early autumn hillside, he has to admit that his husband’s touch on his mouth has always made him wish to let him do whatever he wants.
So it is convenient for Liem that what Cardan wants seems to line up so neatly with what Liem was already doing. He smiles up at him, both surprised and pleased by the direction this demand has taken.]
Oh? I thought you wanted to fuck me.
[Isn’t that why they’re getting undressed? Certainly there is no need to bother with their footwear for Liem to just suck his husband off. And yet here he is, diligently divesting Cardan of his boots so that he might finally get his trousers off him—even if he has also been using the interim as an excuse to prey on his husband just a little.
But he is not going to wait for an answer to do what Cardan has already instructed. Even if it’s awkward to devote himself thus when his hands are already occupied at Cardan’s feet, he can still shift closer and smear those indulgent kisses over his lover’s cock instead. And even if splitting his attention between the two might prove difficult, he does want to go all the way—to do just as his husband asked—and slowly, deliberately, swallow him up.]
I do, [ Cardan breathes, having somehow been caught unawares by that smile. Liem's smiles always startle him when they appear in moments like this, bright as new snow. It makes him feel a little endangered when his husband responds to his attempts at being demanding with delight, like he'd fallen into a trap he should have long anticipated.
Of course, the trap is one of his own doing. He already knows he's going to come before he ever gets to fuck Liem. He cannot hide his desperate shiver when Liem's mouth finds his erection, nor the way his hands slide into Liem's hair, deliberately tender despite all that he wants to hold on to him for dear life. ]
I'm, mm... so good at wanting... [ His teeth dig into his lip; he cannot allow himself to squirm. ] ...so many things at onc--
[ Liem swallows up his cock, and he suddenly loses the ability to speak altogether. He can only breathe through it, shallow little gasps that don't feel like enough around the hammering of his heart. He can't allow himself to shut his eyes: he wants to see Liem take him, just like that, looking like sex and indulgence personified -- though his lids are heavy, his gaze a little unfocused. ]
Liem. [ He doesn't even know what he's asking for. He doesn't want Liem to stop -- he doesn't want him to do anything but what he's doing right now, the thing that makes wild pleasure flare through Cardan's veins, makes every muscle in his body tense in an effort to hold on just... a little... longer-- ]
[While Liem attempts to be quick with his hands, his attentions with his mouth are indulgently languid. It’s been too long since he was in the position to suck Cardan off, and he wants to draw out the pleasure of it for as long as he can—preferably at least until he’s done with his chore, if he can manage. It would be such an anticlimax to finish him halfway through and still be obliged to finish undressing them both.
But he is so charmed by the pleasure-soaked expression on his husband’s face, by the way Cardan’s words fail him and by the gentle hands in his hair. He is always so greedy for Cardan’s affection and Cardan’s desire. When he has pried off his husband’s boots and pulled the trousers from about his calves, his hands slide unbidden up his bare legs to splay over his thighs, one thumb caressing the bold mark he’d stamped there. The taut, gasping urgency written into Cardan’s lovely form makes his own cock throb with want.
It is well that Cardan speaks. It gives Liem an excuse to pull away, to replace his mouth with one lazy, gently-stroking hand as he looks up at his spouse. For the sake of thoroughness, he shifts just enough to start unlacing one of his own boots while he does.]
Yes, husband? [he says fondly, the picture of husbandly attentiveness.] Have you had a new thought?
[ He's trying -- so very hard -- to keep himself under control, but when Liem pulls away, earnest frustration creases his brow. Immediately, Cardan wants him back. He wants to watch Liem nestled between his thighs, that dangerous, indulgent mouth on his cock. He wants it so badly that it's difficult not to whimper with the loss.
Worse yet, Liem keeps touching him. The hands drawing up his thighs had made him swallow, hard; when Liem wraps cool, leisurely fingers around his erection instead, it's all he can do to hiss out a swear and try not to tighten his grip in Liem's hair.
A new thought, his terribly smug husband says, like he hasn't destroyed Cardan's ability to have any thoughts at all. How is he supposed to be clever when he finds himself pinned by the unrelenting, teasing pleasure of Liem's unhurried stroking? It leaves him no time to catch his breath. Cardan's hands slide down, splaying over Liem's cheekbones to frame his face, which is devastatingly handsome with mischief.
Cardan doesn't know how to contend with any of this. ]
Don't mock me, [ he bitches, taking the time to enunciate despite the gasps that threaten to escape him -- that do escape him, when he pauses to close his eyes and shiver. ] You opportunist.
[So rarely does Liem get to enjoy his husband’s frustration in this way, with Cardan at the mercy of his mouth and his hands instead of the other way around. He loves the frown on that beautiful, gasping face, and the restlessness of the warm hands in his hair. He loves that Cardan has surrendered this to him, that he lets Liem see him discomposed and vulnerable despite how jealously he guards his pride. Cardan is so lovely like this, without his cloak of arrogant insouciance. He is less prince of Elfhame now, and more Liem’s lover. At this time, more than any other, Liem feels that the man he is touching truly belongs only to him.
When Cardan’s hands find his face, Liem smiles, and nuzzles a kiss against his husband’s palm. Rarely has opportunist been made to sound like such an insult.]
You are too irresistible.
[Even with his husband’s protests, how is Liem meant to behave himself when Cardan is like this? He had meant only to pay his husband back a little for the torment so readily inflicted on him—but Cardan ever insists on taking things further than Liem meant them to go, and Liem is so delighted by the results.
Again he dips, dragging the flat of his tongue over the head of Cardan’s cock, and then sinking down to take him in once more. He has made progress with his shoes, but at this point Liem has more interest in seeing Cardan come than in dragging this out until his own pants are entirely off as well. His husband’s pleasure is simply too bewitching for him to care about anything else.]
Ah-- [ He watches. He watches as Liem's tongue teases at his cock; he watches as his husband takes him in his mouth, swallows him up inch by inch. He feels himself throb with it, right there against Liem's tongue, and the helpless moan that escapes him is so lurid he feels himself flush. It was a mistake, clearly, to give Liem this much leeway with his person, with his body.
He cannot bring himself to regret it. He wants too fiercely -- is too consumed with blind lust and heedless affection for the man before him. Getting sucked off is a thoroughly foolish thing to feel tender about, and yet: ]
...only you.
[ He murmurs it between urgent breaths; his pulse hammers in his throat, increasingly frantic the longer Liem works him. It feels perverse, this kind of confession -- a kind of keen, dangerous, reckless vulnerability.
His thumb strokes over Liem's temple, distracted, fingers sinking once more into his soft hair. He can feel it, the pressure of his need building, shivering through him; his bare toes curl with it, digging into the rug. But he wants to say it. He wants to tell Liem. ]
You're the only one who can... who... F-fuck.
[ He can't. He doesn't finish. Instead, pleasure builds, white-hot behind his eyelids, stealing the breath from his throat. His teeth press into his own lip in an effort to keep still, to stop himself from fucking into Liem's mouth, from gripping his hair too tightly. He fails on the latter: for a few moments, at least, his grip grows hard as he shudders through his orgasm, heedless of anything but his lover's touch. ]
[It’s impossible to concentrate on anything else when Cardan moans like that, when his pulse pounds frantic in Liem’s ears and the lithe body spread before him trembles with the force of sheer mounting need. The trousers around Liem’s ankles are temporarily forgotten; he is too caught up in working Cardan closer to peak, urging him ardently on with his mouth and the diligent stroking of his fingers.
The sound of Cardan’s breathless murmur has a wild tangle of lust and terrible, tender yearning uncoiling in Liem like a whip crack, rolling from his lungs down to his cock. He wants to hoard all those half-spoken, lust-driven sentiments like rare treasures, no matter how senseless or how fleeting they seem. It’s drugging, being the object of such urgent affections.
When orgasm tightens the fingers curled in his hair, he moans, muffled against Cardan’s cock—but the spark of pain only urges him on in his efforts. There is a fire lit in him now; its hunger drives his relentless stroking as he feels Cardan shudder through his climax, and when he pulls back, it is to shove his remaining attire off his legs with heedless impatience.
He needs to move. He needs to be wrapped around his husband again, right now—needs to crawl back onto the bed so he can cover Cardan’s body with his own, splay his hands over his feverish, gasping chest, and kiss him with all his ignited greed.
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Cardan is so dangerous like this. The force of his desire pins Liem like a weight, sparks him alight, filling him with his own helpless need to indulge his every demand. He simply cannot resist it; not for the first time, it occurs to him that if Cardan continued to demand his pleasure even after nightfall, Liem would be powerless to object at all. How could he? There is nothing in the world he wants more than Cardan’s hungry obsession, no matter how inconvenient or ill-timed.
Even when Cardan teases him like this, making him ache with cruelly mounting frustration. Even when he drinks in Liem’s hurried, unsteady breaths with an obvious greed that only demands ever more. More desire, more desperation, more indulgence, more and more without end, so Cardan’s greed is only ever stoked by the storm of Liem’s arousal.
Until he swallows Liem up, and drags a sudden moan from him as he arches against the sheets.]
Ah—
[Suddenly the slide of Cardan’s mouth is not teasing at all, and pleasure rolls into Liem hard enough to rob him of every remaining thought. He trembles beneath his lover’s touch, and his sudden grip in Cardan’s hair might seem punitive if not for the hunger in his expression.]
Fuck—
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Besides, Liem should hardly need to move: Cardan is ruthless in working him, his hand and mouth exacting in their demand for his pleasure. He never feels so heated as when he's with Liem, like he's made of fire and need alone, like he can breathe heat into his husband just by touching him. When he finally needs to come up to breathe, he will do so by drawing his tongue up the underside of Liem's cock, luxuriating in the familiar shape of him. It feels indulgent, this, to have him so unreservedly after such a long time away. ]
I want to never let you go, [ he murmurs, and when he looks up at Liem, his breath stutters in his chest, just a little bit. It's only that he is so heartbreakingly beautiful when hunger takes him; it's only that Cardan feels a little pierced by the look in his bright eyes.
He swallows, breathes, and then dips back down, to cover the hammering of his heart with the eager caress of his mouth, so that Liem's desire may help obfuscate his own. ]
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It’s so easy to let him. The hands demanding his submission are so familiar. The dark eyes staring back at him invite him to fall into them. He lives for this; he loves being Cardan’s, loves giving him everything, again and again. Being his feels safe; it feels right. And it makes him dare to not just want more, but expect it. He cannot recall ever before feeling this indulged.
When Cardan swallows him up again, Liem lets the sensation swallow him up too.
He still feels greedy for him. As his pleasure swells with each tight, heated stroke, as Liem drowns in him, still he wants impossibly more—more tenderness, more hunger, more of that aching want that makes hopeful anxiety flutter unbidden in his stomach. Like the sweet, seductive blood in his veins, Cardan makes Liem crave him more with each indulgence, until he is desperate with it, overwhelmed and taut with the urgency of his pleasure. Until his want for him consumes everything, leaving just one thought in his head, right at the heart of that storm of sensation.]
Cardan—
[And it seems he still has some words after all.]
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And he wants the opposite just as well: to watch his husband teeter on the edge, to count his tortured breaths when relief is snatched away from him just in time. He wants to be generous and cruel and tender and punishing, all at once. Always, always, he wants everything Liem has to give him.
But he is, as ever, a terrible man. He will wait-- will stroke that tension higher, will take Liem deeper into the heat of his mouth, devout in his efforts. Only when his husband says his name like that, soft and caught and desperate--
Only then will he breathe in, and then he will stop, pulling his mouth off with a languid, casual movement. The smile he aims up at Liem is tremendously predatory, all teeth and tender malice. ]
Liem. My dearest, delectable Liem--
[ He's a little hoarse with it. The hand on Liem's cock does not stop moving -- feather-light, restless caresses, as if Cardan cannot quite help but touch him, despite his villainous intent. ]
Don't come. Not yet. I want to feel you.
[ He wants to be fucking him, is what he means, and the thought makes his heart speed with avarice. ]
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[Somehow, he doesn’t come. Somehow, when Cardan pulls away to smile up at him, menacing in his languid affection, Liem stops himself short. Even though he can still feel his lover’s breath warm on his skin. Even though Cardan’s touch still slides teasingly over his aching, eager cock. Liem whimpers in frustrated objection, teeth digging into his lip, but somehow he keeps the impatience Cardan has fostered from nudging him over the edge.
But he is still impatient, especially when Cardan calls him delectable. It is a torment, this tender, teasing denial, and although Cardan is the one calling him irresistible, Liem doubts his husband could possibly feel any more feverish for his body than he already is for his touch. He is already so desperate, even his husband’s idle little caresses keep Liem trembling with cruelly indulged need.
And he loves it. He loves being like this for Cardan and no one else. He loves how only Cardan can make him feel this way, more alive and eager and coveted than any fantasy ever could.]
Hah… [His breaths are still restless as he gazes down at Cardan, focusing on him again with an effort.] But you just can’t resist… getting your mouth on me…
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It's just that it is impossible to see Liem so, trembling and tormented, and not feel a little awed to have him. Awed, and desperately horny; Liem is not the only one aching with need. Cardan feels feverish with it, oversensitive and impatient. The arm pinning Liem's hips retreats; instead, his hand draws up his husband's thigh, greedy to feel him, to touch him. ]
I love putting my mouth on you.
[ He's too aware of it when he says things like this, now. I love the way you look in this tie. I love the hideous wallpaper you put in the sitting room. I love the touch of those hands, and the taste of that mouth, and the way your breath slides out of you when I take you in my arms. Dozens of little loves sprinkled through their nights -- pieces of a bigger, more frightening thing, one that he cannot voice at all.
And Liem is right: he cannot resist. It's why he leans in, hot breath ghosting over Liem's cock -- and then pauses. The look he flicks up at Liem's face is evaluating. ]
Are you going to come? Be honest.
[ His smile suggests there's a right answer and a wrong answer, but also that he's inclined to be generous even if Liem says yes. Probably. ]
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He is so hopelessly at Cardan’s mercy. At this point, the question is not whether his husband has noticed, because that ship has surely long sailed, but how ruthlessly he intends to take advantage now that he has.]
Ah…
[Is he going to come? Liem cannot help but view the question as a challenge, one he might pit himself against in order to earn more of his lover’s pleasure. Given his insatiable desire for Cardan’s approval, he doesn’t even consciously intend the steadying breath he takes as he considers the question, or the stubbornness that settles into his expression as he stares back at him.]
No, [he insists, in spite of the lust still pulsing through him. It’s not a lie, though calling it truth might be a little optimistic; it is a promise, more than anything.
But even a mundane promise must carry its own kind of magic, he thinks; what else would you call the power of words that can bring about a new reality when spoken? Not because of any outside force, but through simple dedication to seeing it through, turning solid and real where nothing existed before. That must be worth something.]
I won’t.
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He goes slow. He knows what Liem looks like when he's caught up in pleasure; despite his promise, Cardan knows that he's still close. If he redoubled his efforts, he is certain he could prove Liem a liar -- but for once, that's not what he wants. He intends for it to be just a little difficult, wants to see Liem squirm and whine and bury his hands in Cardan's hair. And he wants to taste him, still. He always, always does. When he drags his tongue up the shaft, when he paints heated, slow kisses over the head -- it's because he's missed this. It's because he spent a month not having him, and even though he wants to fuck Liem desperately, it's difficult to pull himself away. Liem's pleasure is addictive; the feeling that he's at Cardan's mercy is addictive. He wants both, so terribly much--
And they can both take this, surely, for just a little while longer. ]
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Which makes his promise especially foolish. Cardan does not have to work especially hard to coax his breaths into heavy, restless pants, or to earn Liem’s fingers carding distractedly through his hair, or to hear him whine with frustration as he tries to keep to his word despite the rolling crests of his pleasure. Liem tips his face aside to press it against the sheets, trembling with aborted little squirms with each slide of Cardan’s tongue and each slow, teasing kiss caressing sensitive skin. It is torture, and for all that he claimed he would withstand it, he’s not even sure that he actually can.
But he wants to, so very badly. Even if he can hardly think around his own arousal. Even if the tease of it is driving him mad.]
Cardan, [he moans, breathless.] I…
[I love you. I love you. I love you.]
Oh, fuck—
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He knows it the moment Liem moans his name. It's the feeling of him shifting restlessly beneath Cardan, the beautiful way he tenses. Cardan is so enamoured by those things, so helplessly caught in his lover's allure, that he cannot think of anything else. Desire rakes through him -- his and Liem's alike.
So he can only pull away, for the second time, to press a breathless kiss to Liem's hip. For just a heartbeat, he will rest there, his hot forehead against Liem's flank, before he starts his ascent. If the route of kisses he maps up Liem's body is gradual, if he goes slowly, it's because he needs time to compose himself -- so that when he's finally atop Liem, caging him in with the long line of his body, he doesn't look as desperate as he feels.
His gaze is a little feverish with obsession. But the smugness still finds its way into the curl of his mouth, even as he cups Liem's face in a tender hand. ]
You make tormenting you so rewarding. How remarkable you are.
[ And how badly Cardan needs to kiss his serious mouth -- and then strip him, and then fuck him. It feels like he has waited an eternity and a half for this alone. ]
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The moment feels stolen, but he has no intention of relinquishing it. Liem arches into the pleasurable heat of it, senselessly eager, and lets his own touch drag along his lover’s ribs, palms sliding covetously down Cardan’s flanks and round to his back, until his arms are around him, keeping him there.
This belongs to him. The warm, tender hand cupping his face is his. The lean body covering his own is his. The smug, covetous regard with which Cardan beholds him is his, also. He intends to keep all these precious things for himself, because he wants them too badly to do anything else.
What could he possibly say that wouldn’t immediately lay bare the starved extent of his wanting? His mind is empty of everything but Cardan. Pinned by that black stare, he can only give in to his own greed and kiss him with all the bruised, helpless longing in his hungry heart.]
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They need to move. They need to undress. Unfortunately, Cardan's brain is too overheated to excel at logistics. Fortunately, he knows a man who has made logistics his entire raison d'être, and who loves punishment, and whose hunger may be the only thing eclipsing Cardan's own.
He slips his arm beneath them -- beneath Liem's slim back, wrapping around him even as he does, finally, sink against his husband fully. The moan that stutters from him is a little helpless, but he cannot focus on that, either. Instead, he pulls back to pant against Liem's cheek, tighten his grip, and then roll them over.
This is worse: hornier, more rife with anticipation. But it doesn't matter, because he's going to slide his hands up to cup Liem's sharp-featured, lovely face, and he's going to smirk up at him, all sleaze and lurid promise. ]
You are too dressed. I am most definitely too dressed.
[ Despite the horny torment he's experiencing, his voice remains silken with menace. ]
Take care of us, husband. Won't you?
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I suppose that is only fair, [he says, even though it feels profoundly unfair to have to give up the lithe body currently trapped beneath his own. He will lean down and steal another kiss as payment, wriggling his hips against his husband’s to see if he can earn another moan—they may as well both suffer, if this is how it’s going to be.
Then he pushes himself back, out of Cardan’s lap, and starts by making their clothing situations more equitable; if he is to take care of them both, he really should tend to his neglected husband first. As his busy fingers make short work of Cardan’s fly, Liem regards his unfairly edible, erotic-looking spouse. Liem desperately wants his touch, wants his mouth and his hands all over him, wants to feel that familiar hunger painted against his skin as he rides him. And he wants to hear Cardan murmur the desperate little nothings that always seem to escape him when he’s overtaken with greed.]
You really make me hunger so for your attention.
[But he can’t have his wish just yet. First, he has to take care of his husband—and he begins by slipping off the bed’s edge and dragging Cardan’s pants down his thighs, just as his obliging husband did for him.]
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And then Liem is out of his reach, and a moment later, so are Cardan's trousers. He breathes in, a little sharp -- and then laughs, rising up onto his elbows. How uncommonly vengeful of his gentle lover. Still, it's a relief to be freed from the confines of clothing, even if the air feels startlingly cool on his overheated, oversensitive skin. It makes impatience simmer under his skin; if Liem touched him now, he's not entirely sure that he could hold back from needing to fuck him right that moment.
The grin he directs at Liem is almost helplessly charmed. ]
Is it not anticipation that makes the meal sweeter?
[ He shifts to stretch, the movement luxurious in spite of the fabric halfway down his legs and the shoes still very much on his royal feet. Well, he's had a lifetime's practice looking dignified in various stages of dishevelment. ]
Even though you already have my undivided attention.
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But he cannot deny what Cardan has said. He looks delectable, and Liem has come to truly relish the torment of his own anticipation.]
So you say.
[He smiles. It must be the truth—but he thinks his lover could be yet more occupied with desire than he already is. After all, he has often surprised himself, when Cardan is touching him, by achieving new heights of obsession that he hadn’t dreamed still existed.
Tugging Cardan’s pants down until they’re bunched just above his boots, Liem slides his hands up his husband’s calves and then his thighs, spreading them further apart so he might situate himself between them. As he slides his hands back down towards his husband’s boot, so he might prop it against his leg and undo the fastenings, Liem dips his mouth down to Cardan’s exposed inner thigh. His hands are occupied with the boot—but with his mouth he wanders the tender skin there, brushing kisses over his husband’s thigh before stamping a love bite partway up.
If anticipation sweetens the meal, his husband must be due for a true delight by now. But still, that is Cardan’s own doing. Greedy as his lover has made him, Liem cannot resist the desire to tease his impatience himself.]
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And yet, and yet, none of those experiences seem to prepare him for the times Liem decides to repay him for his mischief. He wants to squirm under the caress of that dangerous mouth along the vulnerable, sensitive skin of his thigh, though he doesn't -- only his tail lashes, agitated. The mark Liem leaves makes him close his eyes and bite his lip in his effort to keep still. Lust coils in his belly, throbs through his flushed cock, hot and intoxicating. Not seeing Liem makes it worse -- makes Cardan focus more on his touch, makes him unpredictable and therefore more dangerously thrilling.
Liem hasn't even finished removing Cardan's boots, let alone his own clothing.
Cardan takes a very deliberate breath.
When his eyes open again, the expression on his face will shift. There is a kind of measured, careful arrogance in the curl of his mouth and the half-lidded stare he directs at Liem: it's the face he wears when he's in peril, and about to make it worse.
He props himself up further, to sitting, and then works a lazy hand down his own stomach to wrap around his cock. The next breath in is more of a gasp, but he keeps the arrogant half-smile and deliberate gaze. He knows, even before the first, unhurried stroke, that he's not going to last even a little bit if he keeps it up -- but since Liem clearly isn't worried about this, then Cardan isn't going to be, either. ]
Husband, [ he says, and doesn't bother to hide the breathy hitch in his voice. ] One more thing.
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Especially when he is still doing as his husband asked. Liem eases off one of his husband’s boots as he looks up from his thigh, and then moves on to the other, still diligent despite the calculating mischief lurking behind his gaze.]
What is that, Cardan?
[His eyes wander Cardan with hungry interest, sliding from his mouth down his body, following the movement of his hand as it caresses his erection. The look doesn’t falter even then, as though he doesn’t feel at all snubbed every time Cardan touches himself in front of him. His hands continue their measured work in removing Cardan’s other boot.
But as he nuzzles idly against his husband’s thigh, Liem still continues to stare at him, expectant.]
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He cannot take this without going insane.
His grasp pulls away from his own cock. Instead, he curls warm fingers over Liem's jaw, thumb flirting with the soft curve of his lover's bottom lip. The tip of his tail twitches, betraying all the fidgety restlessness Cardan is suppressing -- but what can he do but ignore it and hope that Liem does the same? ]
If you are going to use your mouth, [ Cardan tells him, somehow managing to keep his tone measured, ] go all the way, Liem.
[ Because, hypocritically, he has no patience for being teased at the moment. He never really has much patience for being teased at all -- but especially not when he's already so tormented by desire, so overheated and aching for his lover. At least if Liem were sucking him off, his breathless reaction would feel more proportional and less hopelessly besotted. ]
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So it is convenient for Liem that what Cardan wants seems to line up so neatly with what Liem was already doing. He smiles up at him, both surprised and pleased by the direction this demand has taken.]
Oh? I thought you wanted to fuck me.
[Isn’t that why they’re getting undressed? Certainly there is no need to bother with their footwear for Liem to just suck his husband off. And yet here he is, diligently divesting Cardan of his boots so that he might finally get his trousers off him—even if he has also been using the interim as an excuse to prey on his husband just a little.
But he is not going to wait for an answer to do what Cardan has already instructed. Even if it’s awkward to devote himself thus when his hands are already occupied at Cardan’s feet, he can still shift closer and smear those indulgent kisses over his lover’s cock instead. And even if splitting his attention between the two might prove difficult, he does want to go all the way—to do just as his husband asked—and slowly, deliberately, swallow him up.]
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Of course, the trap is one of his own doing. He already knows he's going to come before he ever gets to fuck Liem. He cannot hide his desperate shiver when Liem's mouth finds his erection, nor the way his hands slide into Liem's hair, deliberately tender despite all that he wants to hold on to him for dear life. ]
I'm, mm... so good at wanting... [ His teeth dig into his lip; he cannot allow himself to squirm. ] ...so many things at onc--
[ Liem swallows up his cock, and he suddenly loses the ability to speak altogether. He can only breathe through it, shallow little gasps that don't feel like enough around the hammering of his heart. He can't allow himself to shut his eyes: he wants to see Liem take him, just like that, looking like sex and indulgence personified -- though his lids are heavy, his gaze a little unfocused. ]
Liem. [ He doesn't even know what he's asking for. He doesn't want Liem to stop -- he doesn't want him to do anything but what he's doing right now, the thing that makes wild pleasure flare through Cardan's veins, makes every muscle in his body tense in an effort to hold on just... a little... longer-- ]
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But he is so charmed by the pleasure-soaked expression on his husband’s face, by the way Cardan’s words fail him and by the gentle hands in his hair. He is always so greedy for Cardan’s affection and Cardan’s desire. When he has pried off his husband’s boots and pulled the trousers from about his calves, his hands slide unbidden up his bare legs to splay over his thighs, one thumb caressing the bold mark he’d stamped there. The taut, gasping urgency written into Cardan’s lovely form makes his own cock throb with want.
It is well that Cardan speaks. It gives Liem an excuse to pull away, to replace his mouth with one lazy, gently-stroking hand as he looks up at his spouse. For the sake of thoroughness, he shifts just enough to start unlacing one of his own boots while he does.]
Yes, husband? [he says fondly, the picture of husbandly attentiveness.] Have you had a new thought?
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Worse yet, Liem keeps touching him. The hands drawing up his thighs had made him swallow, hard; when Liem wraps cool, leisurely fingers around his erection instead, it's all he can do to hiss out a swear and try not to tighten his grip in Liem's hair.
A new thought, his terribly smug husband says, like he hasn't destroyed Cardan's ability to have any thoughts at all. How is he supposed to be clever when he finds himself pinned by the unrelenting, teasing pleasure of Liem's unhurried stroking? It leaves him no time to catch his breath. Cardan's hands slide down, splaying over Liem's cheekbones to frame his face, which is devastatingly handsome with mischief.
Cardan doesn't know how to contend with any of this. ]
Don't mock me, [ he bitches, taking the time to enunciate despite the gasps that threaten to escape him -- that do escape him, when he pauses to close his eyes and shiver. ] You opportunist.
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When Cardan’s hands find his face, Liem smiles, and nuzzles a kiss against his husband’s palm. Rarely has opportunist been made to sound like such an insult.]
You are too irresistible.
[Even with his husband’s protests, how is Liem meant to behave himself when Cardan is like this? He had meant only to pay his husband back a little for the torment so readily inflicted on him—but Cardan ever insists on taking things further than Liem meant them to go, and Liem is so delighted by the results.
Again he dips, dragging the flat of his tongue over the head of Cardan’s cock, and then sinking down to take him in once more. He has made progress with his shoes, but at this point Liem has more interest in seeing Cardan come than in dragging this out until his own pants are entirely off as well. His husband’s pleasure is simply too bewitching for him to care about anything else.]
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He cannot bring himself to regret it. He wants too fiercely -- is too consumed with blind lust and heedless affection for the man before him. Getting sucked off is a thoroughly foolish thing to feel tender about, and yet: ]
...only you.
[ He murmurs it between urgent breaths; his pulse hammers in his throat, increasingly frantic the longer Liem works him. It feels perverse, this kind of confession -- a kind of keen, dangerous, reckless vulnerability.
His thumb strokes over Liem's temple, distracted, fingers sinking once more into his soft hair. He can feel it, the pressure of his need building, shivering through him; his bare toes curl with it, digging into the rug. But he wants to say it. He wants to tell Liem. ]
You're the only one who can... who... F-fuck.
[ He can't. He doesn't finish. Instead, pleasure builds, white-hot behind his eyelids, stealing the breath from his throat. His teeth press into his own lip in an effort to keep still, to stop himself from fucking into Liem's mouth, from gripping his hair too tightly. He fails on the latter: for a few moments, at least, his grip grows hard as he shudders through his orgasm, heedless of anything but his lover's touch. ]
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The sound of Cardan’s breathless murmur has a wild tangle of lust and terrible, tender yearning uncoiling in Liem like a whip crack, rolling from his lungs down to his cock. He wants to hoard all those half-spoken, lust-driven sentiments like rare treasures, no matter how senseless or how fleeting they seem. It’s drugging, being the object of such urgent affections.
When orgasm tightens the fingers curled in his hair, he moans, muffled against Cardan’s cock—but the spark of pain only urges him on in his efforts. There is a fire lit in him now; its hunger drives his relentless stroking as he feels Cardan shudder through his climax, and when he pulls back, it is to shove his remaining attire off his legs with heedless impatience.
He needs to move. He needs to be wrapped around his husband again, right now—needs to crawl back onto the bed so he can cover Cardan’s body with his own, splay his hands over his feverish, gasping chest, and kiss him with all his ignited greed.
And he does.]
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