[Somehow this, this act of denying Cardan as well as himself, of requiring Liem to endure his lover’s desperation as well as his own, is so much more devastating than any cruelty Cardan has ever subjected him to. Keen as his own need is, the desperate arch of Cardan’s body against his own only makes it keener. Fierce as his yearning may be, Cardan’s breathless desire only inflames it.
And when the thunder of his lover’s heart subsides, when Cardan’s hard grip on him turns tender in accompaniment with his soft, measured kisses, Liem has to shut his eyes against the wildness that rouses in him and tries to beat its way out of his chest.]
Cardan, Cardan…
[Even as the threat of climax recedes, Liem’s desperation refuses to leave him. He presses closer, heedless of the eager ache that throbs between them as he does, and chases Cardan’s mouth so he can catch it with kisses of his own. If perfection wore a face, it would look like this. It would feel like this. Why, then, when he should be smug with contentment to have Cardan’s tenderness, does Liem feel so frantic with need?]
[ Cardan's plans ever have one fatal flaw: when Liem is this desperate, this vulnerable, this honest, Cardan cannot possibly continue to pursue any of them. He is so weak to his husband's urgent kisses, to the way his name sounds on Liem's lips. Even the hard shiver that takes him when Liem moves against him is soon forgotten. He can only breathe through it, close his eyes and steel himself just a little, just enough that he can speak without falling apart with the strain of his own desire. ]
Anything, [ he says, foolishly, not caring about the risk. He had not cared about the risk for months, now. ] Anything you wish for, husband.
[ Of course, he still wants Liem's bite -- the memory of fangs on the tender inside of his thigh -- but they have time. If Liem is right about all of his plans, and right now Cardan desperately wants to believe that he is, they might well have years. It can wait. It will wait, as all things must in the face of his husband's urgency.
His hands cradle Liem's face. Cardan's black stare is serious, despite his flushed face and the way his breaths still tumble out of him too rapidly. ]
[Liem doesn’t know how to contend with what Cardan does to him. The warm hands cradling his face, the dark eyes keeping him captive, the low voice breathing foolish promises. These things burrow inside him and grip tight, promising everything he can never have. They drag the starved, piteous need deep within him up to the surface, to cry and struggle against his own fearful self-restraint. He wants this so much. He is so terribly, desperately afraid of getting it.
I love you, he wants to tell him, and don’t do this to me, and please never let me go. He stares at Cardan with his heart in his throat, wanting to fall into that black stare, to forget everything else but him and just place his heart in Cardan’s warm, soft hands. He would take care of it; some part of Liem believes this utterly, without reservation.
But not every part. Even stupid with yearning and blind, senseless lust, he cannot disentangle the wanting from the stubborn, insistent dread. He does not know whether to confess his need for Cardan’s tenderness, or beg him to stop before Liem is undone completely.
So he skirts away from the choice, letting his eyes close and his brow fall to rest gently against his husband’s, splayed fingers curling helplessly against Cardan’s ribs.]
If you do not finish getting undressed, [he mutters,] I am going to go entirely insane.
[ Liem’s silence is conspicuous in the space between them. Truthfully, Cardan had not expected a particularly weighty response — mostly, he’d hoped to know whether Liem would like to be fucked now, or slightly later. The complete absence of an answer strikes an odd note. He can’t help but wonder just what husband is keeping back. What desire could be so difficult to voice that he’d avoid the question altogether?
But he’s in no mood for interrogations, so he only strokes his fingers over the short hair at Liem’s nape, petting his husband as he hides from his own thoughts. And when Liem complains, Cardan will laugh and make an effort to sit up, no matter that moving with Liem in his lap draws a low, wanting noise from him. ]
It would be your own fault, husband, [ he admonishes. ] You’ve distracted me from my task.
[ Which was: reaching past Liem so he can start on the ordeal of unlacing his boots, his free hand braced over the small of Liem’s back. If this involves some acrobatics, so be it; he doesn’t feel like pulling away, just now. And he does urgently want to be bare, has wanted it since he’d first pressed Liem against the wall in the alcove, feeling the lean shape of him through the cruel barrier of armour and clothing. ]
[If Liem is a little pathetic for finding solace in the stroke of Cardan’s fingers petting his hair, then so be it. He would not refuse this comfort just now, and in any case he still wants more than anything to please his husband, just as much as he’s wanted it every other hour of every night for most of the past year. If he relaxes into Cardan’s hands like he belongs there, surely he cannot be faulted for that.
Besides, in Cardan’s lap is one of Liem’s absolute favourite places to be. Even if the shift in positions makes him clutch harder at his husband with a soft, impatient little sound, he has no intention of extracting himself from Cardan’s hold.]
I don’t know what I’m meant to do about that. Being a distraction to you has never required any particular effort on my part.
[This wouldn’t be the first time Cardan has accused Liem of distracting him when Liem wasn’t trying to be especially provocative. It seems all he has to do to distract his husband from other matters is simply exist in his proximity, especially when Cardan himself is already doing his utmost to make Liem mad with need. Probably the only way Liem could resolve this issue would be to step out of the room entirely, and Cardan seems to be of no mind to let him go.]
[ Liem won't be able to see Cardan's raised eyebrow, given the way he's leaning over him to get at his boot. He quirks it anyway. ]
And I should?
I am much better at causing problems than solving them.
[ Unlike Liem, who does nothing but fix other people's fuck-ups. To underscore the point, Cardan takes a break from tugging off his boot to draw his mouth along the elegant line of his husband's shoulder, up his throat, his breaths heavy against Liem's ear when his teeth graze over its delicate shell. He breathes in his familiar smell, still unaccountably greedy for the very man he's cradling in his embrace. ]
Surely that was obvious from the moment you met me.
[ He kicks off his boot, having managed to work open the laces. The second one will follow its sibling shortly after. It's not fast enough. He feels overheated, full to the brim with feverish desire. As he works to undress himself, every minute shift and movement of his body against Liem's makes him bite down on another impatient shiver, worse than the last. Liem is right: it takes him no effort to distract Cardan at all. ]
[Cardan is not the only one to be easily distracted by his husband—though since Liem has no tasks currently before him, his intent interest in the shifting of Cardan’s body against him poses no particular difficulty. He is free to let his own hands wander up Cardan’s flanks and over his chest, playing idly with his nipples to distract himself from the shivery desire and unsteady little gasp that Cardan’s mouth brushing his skin inspires.]
We all have our own talents, husband.
[Since Cardan’s lie squarely in tormenting his husband, Liem feels no shame in plaguing him with distraction in turn. He is too restless to wait patiently in any case, even if he had a mind to make things easier for him. Touching Cardan is the only thing currently distracting him at all from his own feverish impatience.
And if his husband takes issue with this… well. Liem shall simply reap the consequences, as he always does.]
Still, isn’t it noble to seek to surpass one’s own limits?
[ He breathes out as he works the second boot free, careful, deliberate, trying not to let his fingers stutter in their work as he endures the tease of Liem’s touch on his chest. It is preposterous that he should be taking on this kind of frustrating puzzle, only to be mocked and tormented by his own husband. Clearly, he has been far too permissive. ]
…you are right, of course.
[ He says it softly, with a velvety undertone that Liem should well recognize as threatening. ]
I should not have underestimated you.
[ Underestimated Liem’s capacity for mischief, that is. The boot drops to the ground. Cardan wiggles his toes, then sets his foot down, grounding himself. When he pulls back to look at Liem, it is with half-lidded hauteur — though he cannot quite help the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He suspects that he’s being provoked, after all.
His touch sweeps up the line of his husband’s back. ]
Your hands seem to want for a task, husband. As does that mouth.
Take care of my trousers, won’t you? And do try to keep them neat.
[Liem doesn’t know how neat he’s prepared to keep Cardan’s trousers, given his instinct is to shuck them as quickly as possible, but his husband is right to say that he could benefit from a task to occupy him. Being at the mercy of Cardan’s gentle hands and wandering mouth is making his restlessness worse, somehow. It is so much harder to be restrained when his body still aches with the promise of Cardan’s tenderness.
So much easier, then, to invite his cruelty. Liem meets Cardan’s haughty stare with relief, despite the frantic hunger that still gnaws beneath his skin. His hands slide back down to Cardan’s hips as he shifts his weight, parting reluctantly from his husband’s lap.]
Both are simply eager to touch you.
[Bracing his hands briefly against Cardan’s thighs, Liem slides backwards off his lap, retreating back onto the floor at the bedside. His fingers hook into the already-undone waistband of Cardan’s princely trousers. He is still holding Cardan’s gaze as he begins to pull them off.]
I covet you always, but especially when you have me in your grasp.
[ He is eager to be rid of the trousers, finally -- eager enough to be helpful, despite the sharp little smile he directs at Liem. He leans back, lifting his hips just long enough for Liem to slide the trousers off, before his hands return impatiently to his face.
It is a boon, at least, that those hands are no longer occupied with clothing, and can thus be occupied with touching his husband. Except, of course, that most of Liem has slipped out of reach. Cardan must content himself with fielding the familiar surge of affection as his thumb strokes idly over Liem's cheek. ]
How strange, [ he murmurs, quietly, ] to covet that which you already have.
[ He is talking about himself as much as about Liem. After all, what right does he have to feel such desperate need for a man who insists he's already in his possession? And still Cardan misses his weight, his scent, the close press of his body. It is only long practice that keeps him from frowning, though his gaze grows increasingly intent as he watches Liem. ]
Show me it, [ he will demand, his voice still low. ] Your desire, Liem.
[ Because he will never tire of seeing it. Because of all the people who have ever wanted him, none have provoked in him such a devouring, all-consuming want. And as for Liem, who lets himself desire so few things, let alone openly-- Every time Cardan glimpses a mirror of his own greed in him, it feels like a secret, like a treasure he can hoard all to himself. ]
[Liem feels more than a little bereft kneeling on the floor, out of Cardan’s embrace, and his eyes sink closed for a moment at the welcome delight of the warm hand caressing his cheek. His restless hunger makes the touch a little unbearable, for it only makes the pangs of his need feel sharper, but even so, he craves even this with eager desperation.
Maybe it is strange of him, to feel so about a man who is at his fingertips every day and night. It is as if, having tasted bliss in the form of Cardan’s affection and unflagging desire, he has forgotten contentment, and been stricken instead with fearful dread of the night when what he loves will no longer be his to cherish. He undermines his own happiness this way, but he does not know how to quiet the fear—except with the sound and sight of Cardan lost in the throes of pleasure.
So he shall give Cardan what he wants. Nestling between his legs, Liem splays a hand over the tender flesh of one thigh as he bends to brush reverent kisses up the length of Cardan’s cock. His gaze holds Cardan’s, hungry for the look of pleasure there, whether hinted at or worn plainly, as he teases the head with the flat of his tongue. The fingers on his leg move in idle, gentle caress.
But he is too impatient just now to be cruel with his teasing. The slow wandering of his mouth turns deliberate, and with hungry intent, he slides down Cardan’s length, swallowing him up inch by inch.]
[ There is something about the way his husband looks, kneeling between his thighs — about that piercing blue gaze against a sea of black — that makes Cardan swallow, helplessly enamoured. It should have been submissive: he has demanded, and Liem has complied, as usual. And yet, there is something almost regal about the way Liem holds himself as he fulfills the task. It makes Cardan think of the training hall, the way his husband had moved like a lithe shadow, all lethal efficiency and sharp-edged intent. It makes Cardan a little insane. Lust has coiled up inside him, breathless and eager, already tight with anticipation; if he's not careful, it's liable to come undone all at once.
His exhalation trembles in the air between them. He has denied himself release too recently to not be immediately affected by the brush of those deliberate kisses over his cock; each one threatens to pull a sensitized, breathless gasp from him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and yet: he cannot possibly look away. He wants to see him, wants to watch the elegant, sharp-featured face as he works, wants to meet that stare, no matter how exposed it may make him feel.
It is difficult. His hand clenches in the sheets as his cock slides inside his husband’s mouth; his other has slipped into Liem’s hair, and that tightens, too, though he makes an effort to keep himself restrained. He is too cognizant of the cool fingers on his thigh; he thinks of Liem’s mouth there, too, and feels a hungry little shiver dance up his spine. ]
From the first time we spoke, [ he will murmur, low and breathless, ] I have wanted that mouth on me.
[Liem cannot voice a reply while occupied as he is with Cardan’s cock, so he leaves the chatter to his husband and devotes himself only to his present mission: that of drowning Cardan in pleasure. Since his husband didn’t bid him hold back this time, Liem intends to push Cardan over the peak that so frustratingly eluded them both before. He wants to demand his release, and though he cannot speak, his intent lies plain in the hungry gaze fixed on Cardan and in the diligent attention he pays to his husband’s erection.
Though he is forced to lower his eyes, presently, as he focuses his efforts on the cock in his mouth. Too rarely does he have the opportunity to please Cardan like this: to feel the heated weight of him against his tongue, filling his throat as he slides down to take him deeper. It fills him with a strange possessiveness to claim Cardan’s pleasure like this, with Cardan’s cock held carefully in his mouth and Cardan’s fingers tight in his hair. This belongs only to him, even if he is reluctant to demand this pleasure too often. He is the only one permitted to make Cardan come undone like this, to unravel him and lay him bare.
And Liem is so hungry for that: the illusion that this is his alone. Even the taste of it makes him feel insane, so of course he cannot resist it at all.]
[ Cardan’s words turn out to be prophetic. It takes no time at all for Liem's efforts to bear fruit, for Cardan's breath to grow haphazard and heavy with desire. The muscles in his stomach grow tight with tension as he tries to weather the pleasure ravaging through him, spurred on by his husband’s determined attention. He’s too wound up, too wanting, too desperate for his lover’s hunger. ]
Liem— hah...
[ His touch grows restless, drawing over Liems' temple, his cheek, trailing down the side of his neck and over his shoulder -- gentle, fleeting caresses. It's too much, the pleasure of Liem's mouth on him too keen and too drugging. He feels pinned, trapped with nowhere to escape the maddening ascent; he can only swear and then clutch at Liem anew, his hands once more in his lover's hair.
It’s foolish to keep talking through it. As ever, this does not stop him. ]
You are so... mm... so terrifically dangerous... when you take what you--
[ He does not finish; the words are interrupted by a hard shiver. His hands in Liem's hair tighten involuntarily; despite his best efforts to be gentle, lust overtakes him, makes him groan and bite his own lip in an effort to hold on just one moment longer. ]
Liem...
[ That's all the warning he gets out. Orgasm slams into him so vividly it takes his breath; he cannot help but shut his eyes and gasp with it, insensate to anything but the searing ecstasy of it.
[Nothing in the world could match the beauty of Cardan like this, taut and desperate, his hands and his breaths equally restless in the face of his mounting pleasure. Liem glances up again as he pulls back, taking in his husband’s wanton loveliness in the heartbeats before he dips down to swallow him up again. Even that brief glimpse makes his heart squeeze in his chest, helplessly smitten.
He’d thought himself too impatient to go without Cardan’s touch for even a moment more, but for this rare pleasure, he would endure such torment many times over. It always undoes him, no matter how cruel the outcome might be.
And he loves the senseless things Cardan says when he’s inside of him, loves the way his name sounds falling breathlessly from Cardan’s lips. He chases that loveliness right through the crest of Cardan’s climax, demanding his pleasure with the relentless rhythm of his bobbing head, until he finally pulls away with a lingering swipe of his tongue. His eyes on Cardan are blown so wide, it seems impossible he’s had no more than a drop of Cardan’s blood this entire night.]
I want, [he says, finishing Cardan’s sentence for him.] I want you.
[He wants him so terribly, and nothing seems capable of tempering the feeling at all.]
[ He could not have said if his climax lasted a second or an hour; it feels like a moment suspended in time — breathlessly, desperately overwhelming, as his heart tries to hammer out of his chest. He’s still shivery and taut with it when it ebbs, once he feels like he can finally breathe again. He has to consciously loosen his grip on Liem, wincing a little with apology.
And then gasping again as the final, saucy caress of Liem’s tongue tears a startled moan from his throat. Impossibly, when his gaze focuses on his lover, he feels another pang of lust shiver through him, as if he hadn’t just come, as if his cock isn’t throbbing in over-sensitized protest.
It’s just: he can never get enough of Liem looking like this. It makes him think of slender trees shadowing a dark, still lake, of the shiver at the back of one’s neck when the wood goes quiet. He looks predatory, hyper-focused on Cardan and Cardan alone.
His hand slips down, fingertips brushing over Liem’s mouth. The smile that quirks his own is knowing. ]
[Liem’s hunger is too all-consuming for him to appreciate the irony of Cardan wishing to be devoured right on the heels of being sucked off. For Liem, the desperate pleasure he has wrung from his husband only makes the gnawing need within him grow and grow. His skin aches where Cardan isn’t touching him; without the balm of Cardan’s soft lips, his mouth feels dry and swollen with emptiness. He seeks the warmth of Cardan’s hand instead, holding his gaze as he brushes a gentle kiss over the palm.
With single-minded focus, he then begins to climb back up his husband’s body one kiss at a time. Heated and eager, he stamps kisses over the lean prominence of Cardan’s hip, leaves an open-mouthed trail up his stomach, splayed hand possessive as it slides up the contours of thigh, hip, and flank. His wandering kisses linger over Cardan’s chest, mouth poised over the quick-beating heart thumping behind his ribs.
Somehow, his desperation is such that he has looped around from impatience and come to rest squarely in the realm of maddened worship, his body so afire with want that he can see no end to it. He only knows that touching Cardan feels more necessary than anything else ever has, and he is glad to indulge.]
And I, too, [he murmurs against one slim collarbone, nuzzling from there up Cardan’s neck as he insinuates himself further into his arms.] I too am yours, Cardan, to have as you please.
[ This is not exactly how he expects to be devoured, but he forgets to feel bereft when Liem’s mouth — that dangerous, serious, beguiling mouth — stamps a searing trail of kisses up his body. It feels like an assault on his ability to hold himself together. How can he do anything but suck in a sharp breath and hurry to pull Liem against him, to trap him in the cage of his arms and the hard, greedy grasp of his hands? At moments like this it’s too easy to remember his selfish starveling's nature, the way he can never, ever get enough affection to outlast his desire. He breathes Liem's desperation in even as he folds around him like flame catching an unwary moth.
Cardan's voice is an affectionate growl. ]
Just like this, husband.
[ If he was hazy with lust and release before, he is not now; Liem has snapped him back to a sharp, predatory focus. His fingers find their way under Liem's chin, tip his face up so that Cardan can kiss him, all teeth and barely constrained need. Only for a while -- not nearly long enough. And still he's breathless when he pulls back, though it does not impede his self-satisfied tone. ]
Only, I wish to have you under me.
[ He could ask Liem to get off his lap in service of this, except that he's no longer interested in the tease of separating from his husband. Instead, he twists and then lets himself fall backwards again, pulling Liem with him. If it's a little sloppy, if he lands on the bed diagonally, that's just fine -- because when he rolls them over again, the bone-deep satisfaction of pressing his husband into the sheets makes naught else matter. There is just Liem, lean and sharp-edged under the feverish touch of Cardan's hands, all of him there for Cardan's delectation. Cardan's thigh slides between his husband's, gleeful with the joy of trapping him, pinning him, of having him so completely to himself. ]
You are mine, Liem Talbott, [ he says, because saying it fills him with a giddy delight. It curls smugly over the edges of his grin, right before he dips down to graze his teeth over Liem's jaw. ] How glad I am for it.
[The arms around him, pulling him close, feel right. The fingers lifting his face to meet Cardan’s hungry kiss feel right. The hard, greedy hands roaming his body feel right—and Liem melts into all of it, fitting himself against his husband with a soft sound of eager relief that belies the unassuaged need still aching through him.
This is what he is so terribly, helplessly starved for. He wants Cardan’s desire—wants to feel that feral hunger that Cardan sometimes seems so reluctant to fully reveal to him. Hypocritically, he doesn’t want his husband to rein in the hard clutch of his hands, the impatient demands of senseless lust. If every part of him belongs to Cardan—and it does—he wants to feel possessed beyond what is reasonable or even respectful. Just now, he would much rather his husband be beyond reason altogether.
He follows Cardan further onto the bed like a clinging vine, seeking him with hungry mouth and hands. The familiar weight of Cardan pinning him against the covers makes yearning shiver down his spine and ache wantonly between his thighs.]
And what will you do with me?
[The brush of lips and the scrape of teeth at his jaw coax Liem’s head to one side, inviting Cardan’s attention along the curve of his neck, where he is always eager for touch.]
[ As usual, the bed is too large. As usual, he cannot reach the nightstand without peeling himself away from his husband -- and he doesn't want to, not when he's so breathlessly enamoured with the way Liem feels against him. It makes him growl -- frustrated -- and then nip at the pale, tender skin he's been offered so eagerly. ]
I want to fuck you, [ he murmurs, between the work of trailing heavy kisses over Liem's throat, his collar bone, down to his shoulder. Such a simple want -- never mind that he just came, never mind that it's obvious -- he does not have it in him to be circumspect. ] I wish to be inside you, Liem.
[ His hands trail down to Liem's hips, but the problem remains frustratingly unsolvable -- so he touches Liem instead, closing greedy fingers around his cock to stroke. His husband must be desperate indeed, after such a long time with naught but teasing and denial; it is cruel of Cardan to stoke it further, but he cannot help himself. Besides, he needs time to think, not that it is easy with lust shivering through him, increasingly heady. As ever, Liem's nearness is too distracting, too tender, too terribly dear. Cardan cannot remember a time before he had wanted him so. ]
[Cardan is right to think that Liem must be desperate after being hungry for this long. Even as he sinks back against the covers, fingers finding their way into Cardan’s hair as hot kisses roam down Liem’s neck, eagerness shivers through him with every shift of his husband’s body over him and every heated touch of his covetous hands. Cardan’s low murmur makes that eagerness throb more insistently, so that when greedy fingers wrap around him and stroke, Liem can’t stifle the sudden moan that escapes him as his hips squirm up, into the obliging caress.
He does want to be fucked, of course—but he has never been able to resist his husband’s hands on him. It always robs him so completely of his senses.]
Ah… fuck…
[Liem tips his head, pressing a mindless kiss to one damp, raven temple. Perversely, even when Cardan is consistently the source of his torments, Liem only ever finds himself wanting to press closer, to wrap around him and hold him tight. After all, even if Cardan will only torture him further, how could he not be starved for his touch and his nearness regardless?]
[ He arches into the cadence of that heated moan. Liem's vulnerability strikes a keening hunger in him -- it ever has, and he imagines it ever will. Cardan lifts his head to look at him, propped up on an elbow, and has to bite his lip immediately as he sucks in a shaky breath. Seeing Liem sprawled against the covers like this, mussed and tense with need, caught up in his desperation-- How could it not make lust flare through Cardan, wild and all-consuming? He feels a little savage with it, unfettered to a degree that would frighten him, were he only a little more sensible to begin with.
He doesn't want to leave Liem, not even for a moment. Selfishly, cruelly, he does not want to. And yet, and yet... ]
Liem.
[ His voice is low, breathlessly insistent. The stroke of his hot fingers remains pitilessly demanding. ]
Liem, drink from me.
[ Cardan needs him more desperate, more intoxicated. He needs him as close to the line of overwhelm as possible. He wanted it before -- he always wants it -- but he needs it now. ]
[When Cardan shifts up to look at him, Liem is sure he must look debauched indeed—flushed and heavy-eyed with desire, his skin freshly stamped with Cardan’s hungry kisses. His chest moves impatiently as his eyes follow Cardan’s retreat; his arm around Cardan draws tighter, reluctant to allow him even this small distance.
If Liem drinks from him now, the sensation will overwhelm him, he’s certain. He is already so alight with need, gasping and eager beneath Cardan’s touch. He will not weather the taste of his blood as well.
But perhaps that is how Cardan wants him. Whatever his wants, Liem cannot refuse the urgent, breathless cadence of his demand. His hands, clutching Cardan close, grow more insistent.]
Then come here.
[Eager with longing, still caught and breathless amidst the relentless waves of pleasure throbbing beneath his skin, he nuzzles along Cardan’s neck, lips brushing the hot, frantic pulse beating there. He breathes in, and Cardan’s scent envelops him, lush and bright and intoxicating, the scent of everything he loves. Liem closes his eyes, finds a gentler pulse with his mouth, and with the slide of fangs and a soft groan, he loses himself in the taste of him.]
[ It's too easy to lose himself in the pleasure of it: the eager way Liem draws him close, the pleasurable tension that draws him taut as that cool mouth wanders his skin. And then, always: the burst of pain as fangs pierce his skin. He loves it, has loved it from the very first time. It is unimaginable that such an act should be both so vulnerable and provoke such a fierce possessive impulse in him, the urge to cradle Liem close and wrap around him like a jealous dragon.
Yes, it's too easy to lose himself in it, and so he must take care to avoid doing so. He takes a shaky breath, opens his eyes, and wills himself to focus. It will be easier for him, surely: unlike Liem, he has not been suffering the torment of denial for the better part of an hour.
Cardan plans on denying him one more time. Perhaps Liem might expect this from him, but Cardan doesn't think so: it's rare for him to take his bullying quite this far. He's too impatient, too eager for pleasure -- Liem's, his own. If not for Liem's enthusiasm in sucking him off, he would have been too impatient now.
And the hungry, keen part of him ever wants to see it: the moment of truth, when his husband realizes just how cruel Cardan is willing to be to him, when the hand insistently stoking his pleasure grows terrible and unforgiving in its denial of the same. ]
[Liem is not expecting it. When he bites Cardan, when he holds him close and indulges in the drugging taste of him, his only thought is for the warm weight of Cardan’s body, the vibrant scent and taste of him, and the heated stroke of his hand. He gives himself entirely to the intimate closeness between them, wrapping him up like a silken cocoon that makes all else disappear. There is only his lover, the tide of sensation pulling at him, and his own wild, all-consuming need.
Restless beneath Cardan’s hands, he arches and gasps against him as pleasure surges bright and urgent in the wake of Cardan’s touch. And when that indulgent touch turns hard and forbidding in the face of his swelling desire, the tender hands buried in dark hair and roaming Cardan’s back clutch painfully in sudden, heedless need.]
Oh—!
[A startled whimper escapes Liem as he bucks against Cardan, gasping against his bloodied neck. He writhes uselessly as waves of urgent pleasure batter against him, pushing him up against the cruel edge of his climax even as Cardan refuses to let him cross over.]
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And when the thunder of his lover’s heart subsides, when Cardan’s hard grip on him turns tender in accompaniment with his soft, measured kisses, Liem has to shut his eyes against the wildness that rouses in him and tries to beat its way out of his chest.]
Cardan, Cardan…
[Even as the threat of climax recedes, Liem’s desperation refuses to leave him. He presses closer, heedless of the eager ache that throbs between them as he does, and chases Cardan’s mouth so he can catch it with kisses of his own. If perfection wore a face, it would look like this. It would feel like this. Why, then, when he should be smug with contentment to have Cardan’s tenderness, does Liem feel so frantic with need?]
Please…
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Anything, [ he says, foolishly, not caring about the risk. He had not cared about the risk for months, now. ] Anything you wish for, husband.
[ Of course, he still wants Liem's bite -- the memory of fangs on the tender inside of his thigh -- but they have time. If Liem is right about all of his plans, and right now Cardan desperately wants to believe that he is, they might well have years. It can wait. It will wait, as all things must in the face of his husband's urgency.
His hands cradle Liem's face. Cardan's black stare is serious, despite his flushed face and the way his breaths still tumble out of him too rapidly. ]
Tell me.
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I love you, he wants to tell him, and don’t do this to me, and please never let me go. He stares at Cardan with his heart in his throat, wanting to fall into that black stare, to forget everything else but him and just place his heart in Cardan’s warm, soft hands. He would take care of it; some part of Liem believes this utterly, without reservation.
But not every part. Even stupid with yearning and blind, senseless lust, he cannot disentangle the wanting from the stubborn, insistent dread. He does not know whether to confess his need for Cardan’s tenderness, or beg him to stop before Liem is undone completely.
So he skirts away from the choice, letting his eyes close and his brow fall to rest gently against his husband’s, splayed fingers curling helplessly against Cardan’s ribs.]
If you do not finish getting undressed, [he mutters,] I am going to go entirely insane.
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But he’s in no mood for interrogations, so he only strokes his fingers over the short hair at Liem’s nape, petting his husband as he hides from his own thoughts. And when Liem complains, Cardan will laugh and make an effort to sit up, no matter that moving with Liem in his lap draws a low, wanting noise from him. ]
It would be your own fault, husband, [ he admonishes. ] You’ve distracted me from my task.
[ Which was: reaching past Liem so he can start on the ordeal of unlacing his boots, his free hand braced over the small of Liem’s back. If this involves some acrobatics, so be it; he doesn’t feel like pulling away, just now. And he does urgently want to be bare, has wanted it since he’d first pressed Liem against the wall in the alcove, feeling the lean shape of him through the cruel barrier of armour and clothing. ]
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Besides, in Cardan’s lap is one of Liem’s absolute favourite places to be. Even if the shift in positions makes him clutch harder at his husband with a soft, impatient little sound, he has no intention of extracting himself from Cardan’s hold.]
I don’t know what I’m meant to do about that. Being a distraction to you has never required any particular effort on my part.
[This wouldn’t be the first time Cardan has accused Liem of distracting him when Liem wasn’t trying to be especially provocative. It seems all he has to do to distract his husband from other matters is simply exist in his proximity, especially when Cardan himself is already doing his utmost to make Liem mad with need. Probably the only way Liem could resolve this issue would be to step out of the room entirely, and Cardan seems to be of no mind to let him go.]
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And I should?
I am much better at causing problems than solving them.
[ Unlike Liem, who does nothing but fix other people's fuck-ups. To underscore the point, Cardan takes a break from tugging off his boot to draw his mouth along the elegant line of his husband's shoulder, up his throat, his breaths heavy against Liem's ear when his teeth graze over its delicate shell. He breathes in his familiar smell, still unaccountably greedy for the very man he's cradling in his embrace. ]
Surely that was obvious from the moment you met me.
[ He kicks off his boot, having managed to work open the laces. The second one will follow its sibling shortly after. It's not fast enough. He feels overheated, full to the brim with feverish desire. As he works to undress himself, every minute shift and movement of his body against Liem's makes him bite down on another impatient shiver, worse than the last. Liem is right: it takes him no effort to distract Cardan at all. ]
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We all have our own talents, husband.
[Since Cardan’s lie squarely in tormenting his husband, Liem feels no shame in plaguing him with distraction in turn. He is too restless to wait patiently in any case, even if he had a mind to make things easier for him. Touching Cardan is the only thing currently distracting him at all from his own feverish impatience.
And if his husband takes issue with this… well. Liem shall simply reap the consequences, as he always does.]
Still, isn’t it noble to seek to surpass one’s own limits?
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…you are right, of course.
[ He says it softly, with a velvety undertone that Liem should well recognize as threatening. ]
I should not have underestimated you.
[ Underestimated Liem’s capacity for mischief, that is. The boot drops to the ground. Cardan wiggles his toes, then sets his foot down, grounding himself. When he pulls back to look at Liem, it is with half-lidded hauteur — though he cannot quite help the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He suspects that he’s being provoked, after all.
His touch sweeps up the line of his husband’s back. ]
Your hands seem to want for a task, husband. As does that mouth.
Take care of my trousers, won’t you? And do try to keep them neat.
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So much easier, then, to invite his cruelty. Liem meets Cardan’s haughty stare with relief, despite the frantic hunger that still gnaws beneath his skin. His hands slide back down to Cardan’s hips as he shifts his weight, parting reluctantly from his husband’s lap.]
Both are simply eager to touch you.
[Bracing his hands briefly against Cardan’s thighs, Liem slides backwards off his lap, retreating back onto the floor at the bedside. His fingers hook into the already-undone waistband of Cardan’s princely trousers. He is still holding Cardan’s gaze as he begins to pull them off.]
I covet you always, but especially when you have me in your grasp.
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It is a boon, at least, that those hands are no longer occupied with clothing, and can thus be occupied with touching his husband. Except, of course, that most of Liem has slipped out of reach. Cardan must content himself with fielding the familiar surge of affection as his thumb strokes idly over Liem's cheek. ]
How strange, [ he murmurs, quietly, ] to covet that which you already have.
[ He is talking about himself as much as about Liem. After all, what right does he have to feel such desperate need for a man who insists he's already in his possession? And still Cardan misses his weight, his scent, the close press of his body. It is only long practice that keeps him from frowning, though his gaze grows increasingly intent as he watches Liem. ]
Show me it, [ he will demand, his voice still low. ] Your desire, Liem.
[ Because he will never tire of seeing it. Because of all the people who have ever wanted him, none have provoked in him such a devouring, all-consuming want. And as for Liem, who lets himself desire so few things, let alone openly-- Every time Cardan glimpses a mirror of his own greed in him, it feels like a secret, like a treasure he can hoard all to himself. ]
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Maybe it is strange of him, to feel so about a man who is at his fingertips every day and night. It is as if, having tasted bliss in the form of Cardan’s affection and unflagging desire, he has forgotten contentment, and been stricken instead with fearful dread of the night when what he loves will no longer be his to cherish. He undermines his own happiness this way, but he does not know how to quiet the fear—except with the sound and sight of Cardan lost in the throes of pleasure.
So he shall give Cardan what he wants. Nestling between his legs, Liem splays a hand over the tender flesh of one thigh as he bends to brush reverent kisses up the length of Cardan’s cock. His gaze holds Cardan’s, hungry for the look of pleasure there, whether hinted at or worn plainly, as he teases the head with the flat of his tongue. The fingers on his leg move in idle, gentle caress.
But he is too impatient just now to be cruel with his teasing. The slow wandering of his mouth turns deliberate, and with hungry intent, he slides down Cardan’s length, swallowing him up inch by inch.]
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His exhalation trembles in the air between them. He has denied himself release too recently to not be immediately affected by the brush of those deliberate kisses over his cock; each one threatens to pull a sensitized, breathless gasp from him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and yet: he cannot possibly look away. He wants to see him, wants to watch the elegant, sharp-featured face as he works, wants to meet that stare, no matter how exposed it may make him feel.
It is difficult. His hand clenches in the sheets as his cock slides inside his husband’s mouth; his other has slipped into Liem’s hair, and that tightens, too, though he makes an effort to keep himself restrained. He is too cognizant of the cool fingers on his thigh; he thinks of Liem’s mouth there, too, and feels a hungry little shiver dance up his spine. ]
From the first time we spoke, [ he will murmur, low and breathless, ] I have wanted that mouth on me.
How quickly it ruins my composure.
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Though he is forced to lower his eyes, presently, as he focuses his efforts on the cock in his mouth. Too rarely does he have the opportunity to please Cardan like this: to feel the heated weight of him against his tongue, filling his throat as he slides down to take him deeper. It fills him with a strange possessiveness to claim Cardan’s pleasure like this, with Cardan’s cock held carefully in his mouth and Cardan’s fingers tight in his hair. This belongs only to him, even if he is reluctant to demand this pleasure too often. He is the only one permitted to make Cardan come undone like this, to unravel him and lay him bare.
And Liem is so hungry for that: the illusion that this is his alone. Even the taste of it makes him feel insane, so of course he cannot resist it at all.]
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Liem— hah...
[ His touch grows restless, drawing over Liems' temple, his cheek, trailing down the side of his neck and over his shoulder -- gentle, fleeting caresses. It's too much, the pleasure of Liem's mouth on him too keen and too drugging. He feels pinned, trapped with nowhere to escape the maddening ascent; he can only swear and then clutch at Liem anew, his hands once more in his lover's hair.
It’s foolish to keep talking through it. As ever, this does not stop him. ]
You are so... mm... so terrifically dangerous... when you take what you--
[ He does not finish; the words are interrupted by a hard shiver. His hands in Liem's hair tighten involuntarily; despite his best efforts to be gentle, lust overtakes him, makes him groan and bite his own lip in an effort to hold on just one moment longer. ]
Liem...
[ That's all the warning he gets out. Orgasm slams into him so vividly it takes his breath; he cannot help but shut his eyes and gasp with it, insensate to anything but the searing ecstasy of it.
How quickly his composure was ruined, indeed. ]
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He’d thought himself too impatient to go without Cardan’s touch for even a moment more, but for this rare pleasure, he would endure such torment many times over. It always undoes him, no matter how cruel the outcome might be.
And he loves the senseless things Cardan says when he’s inside of him, loves the way his name sounds falling breathlessly from Cardan’s lips. He chases that loveliness right through the crest of Cardan’s climax, demanding his pleasure with the relentless rhythm of his bobbing head, until he finally pulls away with a lingering swipe of his tongue. His eyes on Cardan are blown so wide, it seems impossible he’s had no more than a drop of Cardan’s blood this entire night.]
I want, [he says, finishing Cardan’s sentence for him.] I want you.
[He wants him so terribly, and nothing seems capable of tempering the feeling at all.]
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And then gasping again as the final, saucy caress of Liem’s tongue tears a startled moan from his throat. Impossibly, when his gaze focuses on his lover, he feels another pang of lust shiver through him, as if he hadn’t just come, as if his cock isn’t throbbing in over-sensitized protest.
It’s just: he can never get enough of Liem looking like this. It makes him think of slender trees shadowing a dark, still lake, of the shiver at the back of one’s neck when the wood goes quiet. He looks predatory, hyper-focused on Cardan and Cardan alone.
His hand slips down, fingertips brushing over Liem’s mouth. The smile that quirks his own is knowing. ]
So have your fill of me, husband.
Every part of me is already yours.
[ And he so dearly wishes to be devoured. ]
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With single-minded focus, he then begins to climb back up his husband’s body one kiss at a time. Heated and eager, he stamps kisses over the lean prominence of Cardan’s hip, leaves an open-mouthed trail up his stomach, splayed hand possessive as it slides up the contours of thigh, hip, and flank. His wandering kisses linger over Cardan’s chest, mouth poised over the quick-beating heart thumping behind his ribs.
Somehow, his desperation is such that he has looped around from impatience and come to rest squarely in the realm of maddened worship, his body so afire with want that he can see no end to it. He only knows that touching Cardan feels more necessary than anything else ever has, and he is glad to indulge.]
And I, too, [he murmurs against one slim collarbone, nuzzling from there up Cardan’s neck as he insinuates himself further into his arms.] I too am yours, Cardan, to have as you please.
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Cardan's voice is an affectionate growl. ]
Just like this, husband.
[ If he was hazy with lust and release before, he is not now; Liem has snapped him back to a sharp, predatory focus. His fingers find their way under Liem's chin, tip his face up so that Cardan can kiss him, all teeth and barely constrained need. Only for a while -- not nearly long enough. And still he's breathless when he pulls back, though it does not impede his self-satisfied tone. ]
Only, I wish to have you under me.
[ He could ask Liem to get off his lap in service of this, except that he's no longer interested in the tease of separating from his husband. Instead, he twists and then lets himself fall backwards again, pulling Liem with him. If it's a little sloppy, if he lands on the bed diagonally, that's just fine -- because when he rolls them over again, the bone-deep satisfaction of pressing his husband into the sheets makes naught else matter. There is just Liem, lean and sharp-edged under the feverish touch of Cardan's hands, all of him there for Cardan's delectation. Cardan's thigh slides between his husband's, gleeful with the joy of trapping him, pinning him, of having him so completely to himself. ]
You are mine, Liem Talbott, [ he says, because saying it fills him with a giddy delight. It curls smugly over the edges of his grin, right before he dips down to graze his teeth over Liem's jaw. ] How glad I am for it.
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This is what he is so terribly, helplessly starved for. He wants Cardan’s desire—wants to feel that feral hunger that Cardan sometimes seems so reluctant to fully reveal to him. Hypocritically, he doesn’t want his husband to rein in the hard clutch of his hands, the impatient demands of senseless lust. If every part of him belongs to Cardan—and it does—he wants to feel possessed beyond what is reasonable or even respectful. Just now, he would much rather his husband be beyond reason altogether.
He follows Cardan further onto the bed like a clinging vine, seeking him with hungry mouth and hands. The familiar weight of Cardan pinning him against the covers makes yearning shiver down his spine and ache wantonly between his thighs.]
And what will you do with me?
[The brush of lips and the scrape of teeth at his jaw coax Liem’s head to one side, inviting Cardan’s attention along the curve of his neck, where he is always eager for touch.]
Husband…
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I want to fuck you, [ he murmurs, between the work of trailing heavy kisses over Liem's throat, his collar bone, down to his shoulder. Such a simple want -- never mind that he just came, never mind that it's obvious -- he does not have it in him to be circumspect. ] I wish to be inside you, Liem.
[ His hands trail down to Liem's hips, but the problem remains frustratingly unsolvable -- so he touches Liem instead, closing greedy fingers around his cock to stroke. His husband must be desperate indeed, after such a long time with naught but teasing and denial; it is cruel of Cardan to stoke it further, but he cannot help himself. Besides, he needs time to think, not that it is easy with lust shivering through him, increasingly heady. As ever, Liem's nearness is too distracting, too tender, too terribly dear. Cardan cannot remember a time before he had wanted him so. ]
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He does want to be fucked, of course—but he has never been able to resist his husband’s hands on him. It always robs him so completely of his senses.]
Ah… fuck…
[Liem tips his head, pressing a mindless kiss to one damp, raven temple. Perversely, even when Cardan is consistently the source of his torments, Liem only ever finds himself wanting to press closer, to wrap around him and hold him tight. After all, even if Cardan will only torture him further, how could he not be starved for his touch and his nearness regardless?]
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He doesn't want to leave Liem, not even for a moment. Selfishly, cruelly, he does not want to. And yet, and yet... ]
Liem.
[ His voice is low, breathlessly insistent. The stroke of his hot fingers remains pitilessly demanding. ]
Liem, drink from me.
[ Cardan needs him more desperate, more intoxicated. He needs him as close to the line of overwhelm as possible. He wanted it before -- he always wants it -- but he needs it now. ]
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If Liem drinks from him now, the sensation will overwhelm him, he’s certain. He is already so alight with need, gasping and eager beneath Cardan’s touch. He will not weather the taste of his blood as well.
But perhaps that is how Cardan wants him. Whatever his wants, Liem cannot refuse the urgent, breathless cadence of his demand. His hands, clutching Cardan close, grow more insistent.]
Then come here.
[Eager with longing, still caught and breathless amidst the relentless waves of pleasure throbbing beneath his skin, he nuzzles along Cardan’s neck, lips brushing the hot, frantic pulse beating there. He breathes in, and Cardan’s scent envelops him, lush and bright and intoxicating, the scent of everything he loves. Liem closes his eyes, finds a gentler pulse with his mouth, and with the slide of fangs and a soft groan, he loses himself in the taste of him.]
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Yes, it's too easy to lose himself in it, and so he must take care to avoid doing so. He takes a shaky breath, opens his eyes, and wills himself to focus. It will be easier for him, surely: unlike Liem, he has not been suffering the torment of denial for the better part of an hour.
Cardan plans on denying him one more time. Perhaps Liem might expect this from him, but Cardan doesn't think so: it's rare for him to take his bullying quite this far. He's too impatient, too eager for pleasure -- Liem's, his own. If not for Liem's enthusiasm in sucking him off, he would have been too impatient now.
And the hungry, keen part of him ever wants to see it: the moment of truth, when his husband realizes just how cruel Cardan is willing to be to him, when the hand insistently stoking his pleasure grows terrible and unforgiving in its denial of the same. ]
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Restless beneath Cardan’s hands, he arches and gasps against him as pleasure surges bright and urgent in the wake of Cardan’s touch. And when that indulgent touch turns hard and forbidding in the face of his swelling desire, the tender hands buried in dark hair and roaming Cardan’s back clutch painfully in sudden, heedless need.]
Oh—!
[A startled whimper escapes Liem as he bucks against Cardan, gasping against his bloodied neck. He writhes uselessly as waves of urgent pleasure batter against him, pushing him up against the cruel edge of his climax even as Cardan refuses to let him cross over.]
Cardan—
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