[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.
[ Liem leaves him no time to catch his breath and try to recover the thoughts wiped out by his climax. Cardan is still shivery and sensitized as Liem climbs back into his lap, all urgent hands and insatiable kisses. But he's become so used to foregoing breath, anyway; it doesn't matter if he's a little lightheaded by the time he can pull away again. He presses his flushed cheek to Liem's, panting as if he'd run a race, cradling his husband close like a treasure. It's so rare that Cardan gets to see Liem so keyed up, while he himself is settling into the pleasant calm of afterglow.
This bodes a little ill for Liem, but only because Cardan intends to enjoy him as thoroughly as possible.
He dips down to press a kiss to Liem's bare shoulder. Cardan's fingers dance up the length of his spine, indulgent, happy just to touch him, to breathe him in-- well, happy being an understatement. Even in his relaxed state, he cannot ignore the sheer eroticism of the man wrapped around him, of the need that radiates from Liem nor the hard cock trapped between their bodies. He cannot help the heady, slow pang of his own arousal in response.
The look he levels at Liem is heavy-lidded. ]
You are ever, [ he sighs, still breathless, ] so terrifyingly fuckable.
[ Incidentally, this is why Cardan likes the mirror -- he sometimes suspects Liem doesn't truly understand just how serious these sentiments are. But Cardan won't show him now -- not if it involves moving. Not when he can instead run covetous hands down Liem's flanks and up over his ribs, blunt nails raking lightly up his chest.
His lips find the corner of Liem's mouth. Cardan will kiss him again, slow and indulgent with simmering desire. ]
[Kissing Cardan only serves to make Liem feel more desperate, more sensitized, more hungry for his touch. The feel of his lover trapped beneath and against him, pressed close in heated indulgence fuels Liem’s aching need and sends teasing sparks of pleasure dancing beneath his skin. He cannot think past the delicious torture of his own wanting, occupied as he is with the man he so wishes to possess.
And yet somehow, despite the hunger that spills out in soft, wanting sounds at his lover’s touch, Liem feels so terribly at home in his warm embrace. He could stay like this for hours, pinned by his own helpless, overeager desire, as long as Cardan holds him like this, kisses him like this, like someone to be cherished.
It drives him so insane.]
So fuck me, [he murmurs, as though he didn’t only just finish sucking Cardan off. He kisses him again, lingering and insistent, and a little tormented, like Cardan’s lips are the balm to all his ills. Often, he feels like they are.] Cardan…
I will, [ Cardan promises. The curve of his mouth against Liem's is tender and a little amused. He likes it when Liem gets to be demanding like this, when he's too overwhelmed to care about anything except the things he wants. ] Just as soon as I can.
[ Because Liem did just suck him off, and before that, decided to tempt him, despite Cardan's ardent attempts to make his arousal last. It is only natural that he be the one who suffers the consequences now. ]
Have patience, husband.
[ Admittedly, Liem is doing much to close the gap. No amount of post-orgasmic relaxation could make Cardan indifferent to the pleasure of the slim man straddling his lap, nor to the hungry little sounds he breathes against his mouth, nor to those determined, hungry kisses. All those things make desire coil hot in his belly, dance up his spine, throb insistently through his cock. Really, he doubts Liem will have to be very patient at all.
Cardan pulls away to flash a breathless, bright grin at his lover -- and then stretch over the bed, one palm draped over Liem's hip for balance, to fish a bottle of oil from his bedside drawer. ]
Shall we find something to occupy you, in the meantime?
[For all that Liem brought his current difficulty upon himself, he now finds himself regretting his earlier intemperance in being so greedy with his husband’s pleasure. He has done Cardan’s job for him, bringing himself to the edge of desperation and robbing himself of the possibility of release. Now he still aches fiercely with want for his husband, and he can do nothing but squirm frustratedly against him as he contends with his own impatience.
That, and get his hands all over him, and kiss him like he’s trying to starve him of breath.]
Must I? [he mutters against the corner of Cardan’s mouth, splayed hands teasing at Cardan’s nipples before sliding reluctantly free, accommodating his husband as he pulls away. Liem leans his weight against the bed and watches his lover reach across it with hungry, beguiled eyes. Patience feels so far beyond him at the moment—but if Cardan insists, he can make an attempt at it, if only to indulge his own want to please him.
Still, when he looks at his lover’s expression, he thinks patience is unlikely to feature heavily in his future. Liem smiles, wry with a mixture of resignation and poorly-suppressed avarice. He has ever been tempted by the threat of Cardan’s creative attention.]
[ Liem's tormented wriggling atop him is ever delicious, not to mention distracting; he shuts his eyes, briefly, at the tease of it. It is truly a miracle that Liem has not yet realized just how enamoured Cardan is with him, with his cool hands and his rare bouts of mischief. Or maybe he has -- maybe he knows that Cardan lets him take liberties that he would allow from no one else. Certainly, he could not have missed Cardan's unerring focus on him over the span of their marriage.
Cardan is looking at him now, even as he uncaps the small bottle, even as he traces down the line of Liem's spine with warm, oil-slicked fingers, his touch deliberately light and unhurried. He watches the desire his usually temperate husband fails to conceal, the frustration it so thrills him to see, that familiar wry smile.
And when his fingers wander lower, when they press inside his lover, his own smile is warm with pleasure. ]
No, [ he'll tell Liem, not bothering to hide his affection, ] I suppose you don't have to be patient at all.
[ After all, it won't make a difference: whether he's patient or eager, Liem will be subject to Cardan's whims all the same. ]
[Liem doesn’t know when Cardan began to look at him with such warmth, or when his touch began to feel like relief, but Liem shivers into the slide of those fingers like he’s been waiting for them for days. He swallows, alight with insatiable, ever-present greed for this man who regards him with such inexplicable fondness. His husband is so dangerous like this. He could demand from Liem anything he wished, as long as he kept looking like that, kept sounding like that, soft with affection and indulgence.]
I don’t know how you do this to me.
[He murmurs it between panted breaths, restless and distracted with want. How does Cardan destroy his composure so effortlessly, every single time? He wasn’t ever like this, before; he had self-restraint. Now, the pleasure of being tangled in his lover’s whims feels like drowning. He doesn’t know how to stop, or even make himself want to try.
So he doesn’t. He only dips close again to stamp fevered kisses over Cardan’s jaw, his cheekbone, his temple, his ear. He doesn’t need to be patient, after all. He only needs to be Cardan’s.]
[ Cardan doesn't know how he does it, either. He doesn't know how he weathers it when Liem gets like this, frantic and fervent with his impatience. And, as always, Liem's mouth is his undoing -- somehow even here, even like this, when his husband is kissing him with haphazard tenderness rather than with sharp-edged, dangerous hunger.
He feels a wanting sound, nearly a whine, catch at the back of his throat. It doesn't matter that he's just come; it doesn't matter that all they've really done since then is kiss and fuck around. He cannot be here, with Liem so restless and full of desire in his lap, and not be a little insane about it. He's been home for too short a time, has had too few mornings alone with his husband yet. ]
I don't know, [ he sighs, between kisses, ] why we ever do anything besides fucking. We're so incredible at it.
[ And he so wants to fuck Liem now. His tail coils atop the sheets -- harried with his own insistent need -- even as oil-slick digits fuck into Liem, intent on working him open. ]
[If Liem can find any comfort in his own irrepressible need for his husband, it is that Cardan seems at least to be afflicted with the same malady. For every hungry touch and longing kiss he has ever given his husband, Cardan has always met his greed with more of his own. Sometimes Liem wonders if there is any limit to Cardan’s desire for intimacy, or if, like Liem, he is cursed with the feverish need for more, no matter how he indulges his hunger.]
Politics, [Liem mutters disgustedly, like a curse. Everything that makes his life more difficult always seems to come back to politics; if not for that, he imagines he and Cardan could spend all night in each other’s arms as often as they wanted.
He doesn’t bother following this train of thought. It seems so much more important to catch Cardan’s mouth in kiss after breathless kiss, stuttered and haphazard as the pleasure of those insistent fingers rolls up his spine in languidly-building waves. He would rather focus on the lush softness of Cardan’s mouth, and the tease of his hurrying pulse, and the warm, lean shape of Cardan beneath him.]
There is never a time, during any night [—Liem gasps against Cardan’s lips, hard and aching and impossibly impatient with it—] that I don’t wish we were making love instead.
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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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This bodes a little ill for Liem, but only because Cardan intends to enjoy him as thoroughly as possible.
He dips down to press a kiss to Liem's bare shoulder. Cardan's fingers dance up the length of his spine, indulgent, happy just to touch him, to breathe him in-- well, happy being an understatement. Even in his relaxed state, he cannot ignore the sheer eroticism of the man wrapped around him, of the need that radiates from Liem nor the hard cock trapped between their bodies. He cannot help the heady, slow pang of his own arousal in response.
The look he levels at Liem is heavy-lidded. ]
You are ever, [ he sighs, still breathless, ] so terrifyingly fuckable.
[ Incidentally, this is why Cardan likes the mirror -- he sometimes suspects Liem doesn't truly understand just how serious these sentiments are. But Cardan won't show him now -- not if it involves moving. Not when he can instead run covetous hands down Liem's flanks and up over his ribs, blunt nails raking lightly up his chest.
His lips find the corner of Liem's mouth. Cardan will kiss him again, slow and indulgent with simmering desire. ]
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And yet somehow, despite the hunger that spills out in soft, wanting sounds at his lover’s touch, Liem feels so terribly at home in his warm embrace. He could stay like this for hours, pinned by his own helpless, overeager desire, as long as Cardan holds him like this, kisses him like this, like someone to be cherished.
It drives him so insane.]
So fuck me, [he murmurs, as though he didn’t only just finish sucking Cardan off. He kisses him again, lingering and insistent, and a little tormented, like Cardan’s lips are the balm to all his ills. Often, he feels like they are.] Cardan…
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[ Because Liem did just suck him off, and before that, decided to tempt him, despite Cardan's ardent attempts to make his arousal last. It is only natural that he be the one who suffers the consequences now. ]
Have patience, husband.
[ Admittedly, Liem is doing much to close the gap. No amount of post-orgasmic relaxation could make Cardan indifferent to the pleasure of the slim man straddling his lap, nor to the hungry little sounds he breathes against his mouth, nor to those determined, hungry kisses. All those things make desire coil hot in his belly, dance up his spine, throb insistently through his cock. Really, he doubts Liem will have to be very patient at all.
Cardan pulls away to flash a breathless, bright grin at his lover -- and then stretch over the bed, one palm draped over Liem's hip for balance, to fish a bottle of oil from his bedside drawer. ]
Shall we find something to occupy you, in the meantime?
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That, and get his hands all over him, and kiss him like he’s trying to starve him of breath.]
Must I? [he mutters against the corner of Cardan’s mouth, splayed hands teasing at Cardan’s nipples before sliding reluctantly free, accommodating his husband as he pulls away. Liem leans his weight against the bed and watches his lover reach across it with hungry, beguiled eyes. Patience feels so far beyond him at the moment—but if Cardan insists, he can make an attempt at it, if only to indulge his own want to please him.
Still, when he looks at his lover’s expression, he thinks patience is unlikely to feature heavily in his future. Liem smiles, wry with a mixture of resignation and poorly-suppressed avarice. He has ever been tempted by the threat of Cardan’s creative attention.]
Am I not occupied enough for your liking, Cardan?
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Cardan is looking at him now, even as he uncaps the small bottle, even as he traces down the line of Liem's spine with warm, oil-slicked fingers, his touch deliberately light and unhurried. He watches the desire his usually temperate husband fails to conceal, the frustration it so thrills him to see, that familiar wry smile.
And when his fingers wander lower, when they press inside his lover, his own smile is warm with pleasure. ]
No, [ he'll tell Liem, not bothering to hide his affection, ] I suppose you don't have to be patient at all.
[ After all, it won't make a difference: whether he's patient or eager, Liem will be subject to Cardan's whims all the same. ]
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I don’t know how you do this to me.
[He murmurs it between panted breaths, restless and distracted with want. How does Cardan destroy his composure so effortlessly, every single time? He wasn’t ever like this, before; he had self-restraint. Now, the pleasure of being tangled in his lover’s whims feels like drowning. He doesn’t know how to stop, or even make himself want to try.
So he doesn’t. He only dips close again to stamp fevered kisses over Cardan’s jaw, his cheekbone, his temple, his ear. He doesn’t need to be patient, after all. He only needs to be Cardan’s.]
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He feels a wanting sound, nearly a whine, catch at the back of his throat. It doesn't matter that he's just come; it doesn't matter that all they've really done since then is kiss and fuck around. He cannot be here, with Liem so restless and full of desire in his lap, and not be a little insane about it. He's been home for too short a time, has had too few mornings alone with his husband yet. ]
I don't know, [ he sighs, between kisses, ] why we ever do anything besides fucking. We're so incredible at it.
[ And he so wants to fuck Liem now. His tail coils atop the sheets -- harried with his own insistent need -- even as oil-slick digits fuck into Liem, intent on working him open. ]
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Politics, [Liem mutters disgustedly, like a curse. Everything that makes his life more difficult always seems to come back to politics; if not for that, he imagines he and Cardan could spend all night in each other’s arms as often as they wanted.
He doesn’t bother following this train of thought. It seems so much more important to catch Cardan’s mouth in kiss after breathless kiss, stuttered and haphazard as the pleasure of those insistent fingers rolls up his spine in languidly-building waves. He would rather focus on the lush softness of Cardan’s mouth, and the tease of his hurrying pulse, and the warm, lean shape of Cardan beneath him.]
There is never a time, during any night [—Liem gasps against Cardan’s lips, hard and aching and impossibly impatient with it—] that I don’t wish we were making love instead.
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