[No matter how much he might wish to, Liem cannot gather himself enough to be good for Cardan in all the ways he might ask. He is too wound-up, too distracted with want for him to remember his manners. He can barely find his tongue at all, let alone use it with anything resembling courtesy.
Especially when all he wishes is to use his mouth on Cardan. He cannot help but frown, unbidden and forlorn, when Cardan pulls away from him, the hands pinning his wrists forbidding him from attempting to close the distance between them. The warm transit of those hands still hums in memory beneath his skin, filling him with eagerness now unmet.
But he remains still and compliant, even when the brush of lips against his mouth makes him yearn to wrap around Cardan anew. He murmurs instead,] As you wish.
[How easily Cardan bids him, even though he is the source of Liem’s woes. One corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of that terrible, villainous smile.]
[ How strange, that the quirk of Liem's mouth sends such terrible, giddy affection through him. Truly, his husband is indefatigable: he has suffered so much denial, and yet still offers himself up for more of the same. ]
But in either case, it is persistently yours.
[ Though not for the next few seconds, perhaps. He sits up fully, slipping his hands from Liem's skin. At the last moment, he will glance over his husband, his expression coyly shuttered. ]
Close your eyes, Liem.
[ He doesn't assume lack of sight will make his movements much of a mystery to Liem -- he will certainly hear the whisper of sheets on skin as Cardan moves over to the nightstand, the soft clink of the bottle lid flicking open. He'll feel Cardan's weight shift against the bed as he returns. Perhaps he might feel Cardan's gaze, too; certainly it seems like he must, with how keenly lust pulses through Cardan at the look of him, at the elegant line of Liem's body stretched across the sheets, taut with erotic tension.
The slide of warm, oil-slick fingers starts at the hollow of Liem's throat. They are leisurely as they make their descent -- past his collar bones, over his chest, and lower, lower, painting glistening paths down his trim stomach and abdomen -- before Cardan moves, his other hand urging Liem's thighs apart so he can settle between them -- and finally, once more, take him in hand.
And if the sigh that falls from Cardan's lips sounds relieved, surely Liem will be too distracted to notice. ]
[Liem does not want to wait. He does not want to endure more of his own impatience, without the pleasure of Cardan’s touch to temper his wanting. But Cardan has bid him to be still, and when he tells him to close his eyes… how could he do anything else?
He wants the reward Cardan has promised, vague as that promise had been. He wants to be at the mercy of Cardan’s whims, and if those whims are cruel then so be it. His husband is right; whether Cardan’s attention is a blessing or a curse, it still belongs to Liem, and he is greedy in his refusal to relinquish it.
The touch of warm, oil-slick fingers at his throat makes Liem draw a small, sudden breath, the skin beneath Cardan’s touch alive with anticipation. But his eyes remain closed, even as that touch trails down the taut, eager lines of his body, coaxing a small shiver here, a ticklish twitch there. His lack of sight only makes him more aware of the delicate touch, and when Cardan finally moves between his thighs and slides those gentle fingers around his cock once again, the soft sound that falls from Liem’s throat is all eagerness.
He wants and wants and wants—Cardan’s touch, his kiss, his greed and his cruelty and his affection. He wants Cardan to fuck him until he aches, and he wants him to cradle him close and torment him with his kisses. His hunger for him seems to have no end, so it’s just as well that his husband is the most insatiable person Liem has ever known.]
[ Cardan meant to get closer -- meant to move from where he's kneeling between Liem's thighs -- but he cannot pull his eyes off of him long enough to do so. ]
How beautiful you are.
[ It's such a plain sentiment, spoken too bluntly, and yet he is too caught up to think of anything more fanciful just then. He can only breathe out, less measured than he means to be, and give Liem the reward he was promised -- the stroke of slick fingers over the silken length of his cock, leisurely but insistent. He is hungry for this, too; he wants to see that gorgeous tension grow through Liem's body, wants to catalogue every shiver and each fitful breath.
It's just that this desire wars with his need to put his mouth on Liem's skin. For a moment, he hesitates, caught between two different types of greed-- but he can't deny them both, after all. Not after he promised Liem that he would be rewarded; not after teasing them both for such a long time. ]
...come here.
[ His voice is rough with it. His free hand finds Liem's waist to splay greedy fingers towards the small of his back, urging him up, into Cardan's lap. ]
[When Cardan calls him beautiful, Liem feels awareness sweep teasingly through him, magnifying every sensation caressing his skin. He is aware of how he must look, stretched out supine on the bed, flushed and tousled and gasping, mouth smeared with traces of Cardan’s blood. It must be a pleasing sight indeed for his husband, and embarrassment threatens to creep in behind the waves of urgent need inspired by the slick hand stroking his cock.
But Cardan does not allow him such a luxury. He demands Liem’s attention, pulling the leash of it taut so Liem is occupied with the rough warmth of his voice and the insistent hand urging him up, into Cardan’s lap. Liem is pushing himself upright, fitting himself hungrily against Cardan, before he even has a chance to consider what his embarrassment was even for.
He is too busy seeking Cardan’s mouth to assault it with breathless, longing kisses, too busy sliding demanding, covetous hands up Cardan’s flanks and over his chest. If he is to shiver and pant and be driven mad with the relentless demands of his pleasure, he would much rather do so in Cardan’s arms.]
[ It's difficult to remain on task with a lap full of his husband, who is so obviously just on this side of desperation. And yet, and yet: is it not better this way, when he can feel every shudder and gasp against his skin? He fields Liem's kisses with his own rising impatience; despite that he should be much less frantic, he feels scorched by his husband's hunger. He will never not be endlessly greedy for this, not ever -- how lucky, then, that he has wed a man who wishes to be tormented in this way.
Even so, Cardan will not be led astray entirely. The hand that pulled Liem close slips away. When it returns, it is to slide languid, oil-slick fingertips against Liem's entrance. His smirk, when he manages to pull away from kissing, is as breathless as it is malevolent. ]
Shall I give you more of me, husband? ...or will it be too overwhelming for you?
[ Neither of the questions are earnest; he is sure of the answer. Liem has never once refused him, even when the task has been impossible. He has found his husband quite prideful in his ability to endure, and surprisingly receptive to a little provocation of said pride.
It's just that he loves to hear Liem say it, even when the both of them know he is lying through his pointed teeth. ]
[Cardan’s question, spoken alongside the gentle slide of fingers teasing tender skin, makes Liem frown, even as the insistent touch continues to pull shallow gasps from his lungs. He regards Cardan’s wicked smile with bemused frustration, impatience burning low in his belly, fed fierce and hot by Cardan’s smell and taste, his feverish closeness and the maddening touch of his hands.]
Why would that matter at all?
[Since when has Cardan been cautious of overwhelming Liem when touching him? If anything, Liem would have thought that was his goal. And certainly Liem cannot resist more of his husband’s touch, no matter what the consequences for him may be.
Pressing closer, he nuzzles against Cardan’s jaw, inhaling the sharp, bright scent of him, warm skin and hot blood. It trembles through him, making Liem squirm against the slick hands still stealing his reason.]
[ He has to laugh, then, helplessly beguiled by Liem's earnestness in the face of his teasing. Never mind that he cannot help his sharp intake of breath when Liem squirms in his lap; never mind that his desire for Liem pulses through him with every heartbeat. ]
You are right. How foolish of me.
[ He wants to give Liem everything he wants and more, wants to drown him in pleasure's excesses, wants him a little mad, sick with lust and indulgence. He breathes in, turning his head so he can press his mouth to Liem's cheek, his temple, adorning him with distracted kisses. ]
You are, as ever, my sweetest vice.
[ Nothing and no one else so baits Cardan's hunger. When he presses slick fingers inside Liem, it is with a breathless, greedy longing. He wants Liem's mouth on his skin, desperate and wanting. He wants the bite of nails on his back again, wants the urgent gasps and the poetry of his lover's body pushed to its very limit. Nothing could make him tire of it. ]
[A soft murmur escapes Liem as Cardan’s warm lips wander the side of his face. Truly, being at the mercy of Cardan’s touch makes him stupid, particularly when the taste of his blood has magnified that pleasure so it swallows everything else. No matter how thoughtful and discerning he might take pride in being at other times, when he is in Cardan’s arms, the only thoughts that remain in his head are those busy luxuriating in his husband’s ardent attention.
It does overwhelm him. The press of slick fingers inside him draws a shallow gasp from his throat, and the unrelenting attention of Cardan’s hands continues to send tight little shivers through him. By now he has concluded that Cardan isn’t going to let him come until he’s fucking him, but Liem doesn’t know how he’s meant to last that long without going insane, especially when he treats him like this. Taut with need roiling in him like a storm, he closes his eyes against it as his spine arches and his fingers curl restlessly against Cardan’s chest.]
Cardan, ahh…
[He can’t, he can’t endure this. His need is too fierce, and the sensations too keen. He has waited so long already; he doesn’t know how to find the patience to wait more when pleasure is already swamping his every coherent thought, growing like an avalanche he lacks the fortitude to withstand.]
[ Never does he feel so much that his husband is his and his alone, as when Liem is so eager and overwrought in his arms. There is no measure for the savage tenderness this engenders in him. He can only press his mouth to Liem's, sure that he looks as helplessly enamoured as he feels, and failing to care at all. ]
Shh, [ he murmurs against Liem's mouth, managing to wrest his tone to something resembling calm, ] just a little longer.
Let me have you like this a while longer, Liem...
[ As he is now: caught between sensation and satisfaction, so terribly, breathlessly impatient. It makes Cardan shiver with his own keen desire. In truth, he doesn't know how much longer he can wait, either -- not when Liem arches so against him, not when he says Cardan's name like that. He needs to have him, and soon, and if that's selfish -- well, Liem is surely used to Cardan's selfishness by now, anyway. ]
[It is always when Cardan is at his gentlest that he is his most dangerous. It is cruel of him to ask Liem to endure more of this, but when Cardan whispers those coaxing words against his mouth, Liem remains helpless to refuse him. Panting, seeking breathless kisses between rolling waves of urgent pleasure that leave him senseless, he lets Cardan touch him as he likes—even as the need for release threatens to swallow him whole.
After all, Liem was the one who said he wanted this. He told Cardan he wanted more, even if it was overwhelming; he cannot beg for mercy now.
But still, as his arms come greedily around his husband, his hands tremble and bite against the flesh of his shoulders, and the frantic gasps give way to a frustrated groan.]
Fuck—
[The need pounding through him, the pleasure and the stupid, unreasoning longing, all push him teasingly up against the edge of climax. Even though he knows Cardan will not let him cross over, even if it will just torment him further, he cannot pull himself back, only moan in breathless protest and squirm again into the relentless slide of Cardan’s hand.]
[ He didn't plan on being this cruel, not really. He could have let Liem come -- and then fucked him, sweetly, patiently, until his husband recovered his vigour. Perhaps he will still fuck him like that, since he cannot imagine Liem will last long, in any case.
It's just that Cardan is always greedy.
He wants Liem's climax for himself. He wants to feel the desperation that pours off of his husband, wants to have him in every way possible when he finally, finally comes. The hard grasp on his shoulders only narrows his focus, sharpens his intemperate, terrible desire for the man in his lap.
So: he denies Liem. One last time, he thinks, but doesn't say, because he's not entirely certain he can make the promise. Instead, he will dip forward to sink his teeth into the crook of Liem's shoulder, careful and indulgent, even as the grip of his hand grows forbidding again. In contrast to his husband, Cardan has settled into a calm stillness, save for his thundering heartbeat and the agitated coiling of his tail. All his attention is on Liem -- Liem's pleasure and his torment, his voice, the frantic tension in his body; there is nothing left over for his own pounding need, no matter how much it claws at his restraint.
And when it's over, he will pull his fingers from Liem's body with the same deliberate care, curling his hands over the curve of his husband's ass, so he can urge him to rise. ]
I'm going to fuck you now, [ he says, because they are surely far past the point of obliquely-worded sentiments. The smile on his face is a little tight with impatience. ]
[Cardan doesn’t let him come; of course he doesn’t. Liem is forced to shiver and gasp through the surge of frustrated sensation, straining impotently against Cardan’s hold. Even though he’d expected to be denied, the foreknowledge does nothing to ease the savage need pounding through him, urged on by the grasp of slick hands, by the warm body held close against him and the lush scent pervading his senses.
He doesn’t think he can endure it—but he does endure, and when he has subsided, panting, against his husband, the familiar slide of Cardan’s hands moving to his ass to urge him up could almost make him weep with relief.
He goes where he’s bid, too wild with impatience to even complain about his husband’s cruelty. He needs him too keenly for that. All he can do is poise himself obediently over Cardan’s erection and dip his head to press his face into the soft curtain of Cardan’s hair.]
Please, [he murmurs against those damp curls. If Cardan fucks him now, he won’t last, but he cannot wait any longer. He has been waiting since Cardan locked eyes with him in the training grounds; he needs Cardan to have him, has always needed it, and now he cannot think of anything else.]
[ This is the moment he ever loves the most: the held breath of anticipation, the delicious torment of a desire just about to be sated. It makes him linger -- makes him close his eyes and shiver softly into the press of Liem's face against his hair, against the soft cadence of that quiet please. His hands simply rest on Liem's body for a moment, content to hold him.
But only for a moment, because even Cardan's masochism cannot prevail against the heady thrum of his need. He curls his hands over Liem's hips once more, urging him down, finally, onto the waiting length of his cock.
It's overwhelming; it's always overwhelming, especially after such a long wait. His own ragged breathing is loud in his ears as he bites back a wanting, desperate groan; he has to turn his head so he can distract himself with painting desperate, heated kisses onto Liem's neck, his jawline, his mouth. ]
[What irony it is, that Cardan accuses Liem of driving him to madness when he has been devoting himself to naught but driving Liem mad for what feels like an eternity. Liem is overwrought with it, caught gasping in the grip of his pleasure and his need as Cardan sheathes himself tightly inside him and paints hot kisses against the tender skin of his neck. This is what he had wanted, yet now that he has it, his desperation grips him just as keenly as before.
He seeks that feverish mouth with singleminded devotion, running gentle hands up Cardan’s shoulders and neck to capture his face, keeping him at the mercy of his ardent, hungry kisses. It is the only thing keeping him at all sane, given how alight he feels with desire. Kissing Cardan always steals all his attention, and now it is the rock he clings to amidst the storm threatening to overwhelm him completely.
But at least he is not alone. One thing he cherishes about his marriage is that Cardan has ever been just as susceptible to the lure of want for him as Liem might have wished.]
And I shall continue, [he breathes between demanding kisses,] for as long… as I can capture your desire.
An unwise promise, [ he purrs, openly pleased. And why shouldn't he be? He likes luring Liem into unwise promises, and doubly so into interminable ones. ] You have signed yourself up for... mm... for endless labours, husband.
[ As always, he is helplessly distracted by Liem's kisses. He is particularly delectable, Cardan thinks, when he's hungry like this, demanding and tender all at once. For a moment, he must simply indulge, giving in to the fervent assault of that dangerous mouth, still anointed as it is with his own blood.
But Cardan yet has a plan up his sleeve. He had stayed on his knees for a reason; it's so that, now, he can wrap one arm tightly around his husband and tip forward, laying him out on the sheets with deliberate care: a precious thing to be displayed. And if the shift of their bodies makes his breath hitch, if he must close his eyes against the onslaught of shivery sensation -- well, it is only a taste of what's to come. Besides, as much as he enjoys anticipation, he does not wish to waste time any longer.
He opens his eyes again, drawing his hands up Liem’s flanks, so he can once more pin his wrists above his head. He wants to look at Liem, wants him taut and ready when he first rocks into the deliciously tight grasp of his body. This, too, is deliberate with intent. Selfishly, he wishes to trap Liem with the weight of his desire, wants him a little helpless and exposed. His vulnerability, his desperation — Cardan wants all those things, greedily, feverishly, all for his own. ]
[How like Cardan, to view Liem’s lust-spurred threat as a promise made to him. It makes him smile against his husband’s mouth, both because of Cardan’s obvious pleasure and because Liem has never needed to labour particularly hard to drive his intemperate spouse mad with desire. Truthfully, he thinks Cardan does most of the work on that front on his own.
Not that Liem is less afflicted—not when he is so bewitched by Cardan’s mouth, and certainly not when Cardan is inside him like this. When Cardan shifts to lay him back against the bed, anticipation and delight shiver warmly up his spine in equal measure. He is so absorbed in running his hands all over his husband, intent on keeping him near no matter their orientation, that Cardan must be a little firm in guiding his hands back over his head.
But that is just fine. The feel of Cardan’s warm touch pressing his wrists into the bed’s plush covers sparks an eagerness in him that flares hot with that first, deliberate thrust. The soft, hungry noise that escapes him mirrors the fruitless curling of his now-empty fingers, and his legs wrap tight around his husband as if to make up for the fact that his arms cannot.
This is what he had wished for, when Cardan stole him away from the training grounds: Cardan pinning him with his gaze and his body and his desire alike; with naught but his touch, subduing Liem more completely than any armed knight could manage. Liem stares back at him, a little wild with hunger, daring him to claim everything he wants.]
[ How could he refuse such a thing? How could anyone? Feeling his husband's legs wrap around him provokes a feral, urgent surge of need. Meeting his gaze, that bright blue blown out against a sea of black, flares a shocking rush of heat through him. Cardan needs him and needs to possess him, right now. He had thought to go slow, to be a little masochistic about it, but he can't -- after all this, he can't. The needy noise he makes is nearly a growl, rising straight from his throat; his tail lashes, whip-like.
He can't not move. He can't even pretend to take his time. When he fucks into Liem again, there is a compulsive, hard quality to it. He'd spent so much time pushing Liem to the very edge of his patience that it seems like he's run out of his own -- and now he wants to see his husband lose himself, finally, wants to give him no room to be anything but Cardan's.
And so he doesn't say anything foolish, so that he doesn't betray himself in a way he can't -- still can't -- justify, he will dip down to crush his mouth against Liem's, breathless and hungry. ]
[Liem is unprepared for the way Cardan’s sudden change makes lust shoot through him, hot and immediate beneath the weight of his husband’s urgent want. He feels that growl throb beneath his skin, hears his own hungry moan muffled against Cardan’s mouth as Cardan fucks him. He wanted this so keenly—but all the teasing and denial he’s endured, alight as he is with the thrill of Cardan’s blood, makes getting what he’d wanted overwhelming now that he has it.
It is too much, too fast, and with his hands pinned and his mouth occupied with Cardan’s feverish kisses, he can only arch helplessly against the covers and roll his hips into each urgent thrust. Immediately, he is thrown hard back against the edge of orgasm; he had known he would not last if Cardan fucked him like this, and his body’s eager agreement sends a shudder through him. He needs it so badly. He can do nothing at all to resist.
He can only try as best he can to match Cardan’s demanding rhythm, as he moves in him again and again and again—and then buck against him as the hungry torrent of his pleasure swells, bursts its banks, and sends him spilling over himself as Cardan fucks him into the bed.]
Yes, [ he breathes, between kisses, ] just like that.
[ This is exactly how he wants Liem -- helpless and overwhelmed with desire. It's only at that last moment, when Liem bucks against him, when he offers him the whole of his intemperate, desperate need, that Cardan releases his hands. He must, so that he can brace an elbow against the bed and use his other arm to pull Liem's hips closer, against him, greedy for him even in that moment of absolute pleasure.
Cardan doesn't come, not then -- which makes it even more agonizing to fuck Liem through his orgasm and then... simply stop, shivering with his own fervent need. He can feel it throbbing through his cock, still sheathed inside his husband; he can hear it in his harsh, compulsive breaths against Liem's cheek as Cardan cradles him close. It's just: he doesn't want it to stop. He doesn't want it to end, not yet.
He closes his eyes and presses a soft, deliberate kiss to the corner of Liem's mouth. ]
[So overwrought is Liem that even when Cardan releases his hands as his climax crashes over him, it isn’t until the waves of sensation have subsided, leaving him panting and boneless in their wake, that he thinks to use them. Still sluggish and shivery with the body-memory of pleasure, he seeks the familiar softness of Cardan’s hair and the scar-mapped planes of his back, simply for the desire to touch what belongs to him.
In this moment he is Cardan’s, completely and unreservedly. But foolishly, Liem has been unable to stop himself from feeling in some deep, inexpressible way that Cardan truly is his, as well.]
I don’t know, [he murmurs, exaggeratedly pensive, brushing his mouth against his husband’s jaw. He is still very aware of Cardan’s hard length inside him, the feeling of snug tightness informing him with no room for uncertainty that his husband is still fully erect.] You stopped. You haven’t come.
[Well. He hasn’t come since Liem sucked him off earlier, that is.]
[ It remains difficult, having to keep still despite the hot need rushing through his veins. Every breath, every minute shift of their bodies against each other drives Cardan a little more insane. Unlike Liem, he is not relaxed -- rather, the taut lines of his body are those of a man carefully balancing himself on a knife's edge. As usual, he finds himself tormented by his husband's soft mouth and the gentle caress of his hands.
Still, this is what he has laboured towards: Liem's pliant, easy relaxation; the exhaustion that comes not from the strain of work, but from the demands of pleasure being thoroughly satisfied. How can he but take another moment to enjoy it? He turns his head, nuzzles Liem's ear, helplessly affectionate. ]
I suppose you are right, [ he murmurs, self-satisfied. ] I am not done with you yet, Liem Talbott.
[ He can wait no longer, anyway; he moves again, albeit slower now, indulgent in his enjoyment of his husband. He still wishes to draw it out, wishes to savour him on this last ascent toward release.
Not that it will take long, regardless. The tortured little gasp he buries against Liem's hair says as much, as does the hard grip of his fingers in the sheets. He has never particularly excelled at temperance, after all. ]
[Only rarely does Liem find himself in a position to enjoy his husband’s pleasure while he himself is not burdened with the frantic pursuit of the same. Languid contentment holds him tightly, stirring pleasant flutters in his belly when Cardan shifts to nuzzle at his ear. He feels thoroughly spoiled by his husband’s warm affection, and doubly so by his enduring hunger.
It sparks a familiar greed in him—one that flares to life at the feel of Cardan moving inside him, painstakingly deliberate, and at the incongruously urgent sound of his hurrying heart and heavy breaths. He wants to wrap around his husband and keep him here forever, trapped by Liem’s arms and by his own desire. But then, Cardan’s desire burns so hot, feels so all-consuming. It makes Liem feel not just desirable, but vital, as necessary as air and as irresistible as blood. He wants to be the fuel for that fire; he can’t imagine not wanting it.]
Cardan.
[He murmurs against his skin as his hands trace the contours of the body he has come to know so well. Neck and shoulder, ribs and flank and spine, the lean angles of his hip and the length of his thigh. Shivering with the persistent aftershocks of his own pleasure, Liem paints breathless kisses over the elegant lines of Cardan’s jaw and neck, delirious with affection.]
[ Tenderness sighs out of him with every thrust. It feels natural as breathing, like he was made for this and this alone-- and though he shouldn't need encouragement, has never needed anyone's praise in his entire adult life, Liem's voice still shivers through him.
His hand finds Liem's face, curls over his cheek as Cardan shifts to lean his brow against his husband's. His laugh is breathless. ]
Don't tempt me-- ah... [ It's difficult to think around the rising tide of his pleasure. He bites his lip on a moan, only barely remembering the other half of his quip. ] ...into being contrary.
[ He couldn't, regardless. He can't possibly stop now, not for anything or anyone, not even for the sake of mischief or pride. Liem's soft, easy affection unfurls some wild and starving thing within him, as it always does; it's all he can do not to tell Liem how terribly it scares him and how desperately he needs it anyway.
His breath speeds, grows more frantic, racing his heartbeat. It won't be long before his rhythm begins to stutter, more haphazard and less controlled, as need takes him over-- and he will let it, this time, gasping as he loses himself in the feverish pleasure of claiming his husband for his own, still, again. He wants Liem to see him. It startles him: his own shivery anticipation of sharing even this vulnerability. It seems that, at some point between their marriage vows and now, Cardan has lost his desire to hide from Liem's clear, crystalline gaze. He opens his eyes to meet it now -- half-lidded and hazy with lust, but meeting it all the same. ]
I need you, [ he gasps, though they're not the right words, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because his climax crashes over him like a storm surge, and then his eyes are shutting after all, and he's clutching at Liem and trying to remember how to breathe. ]
[As always, Cardan’s breathless laugh awakens a fragile little flutter in Liem’s chest, a feeling that seems ready to blow apart like a dandelion exposed to a sudden breeze. He cannot resist this: the warmth of the hand cupping his cheek, the tenderness of the brow leant against his own, the hazy mix of pleasure and need on his husband’s face. It all feels too precious to bear, so perfect he expects it to vanish at a moment’s notice, and the ache in his heart only grows the longer Cardan remains like this, warm and wanting and his, captured in the circle of his arms.
Cardan is so beautiful. Every time Liem tells him, words seem to fall short, but he knows no other way to describe how incomparably exquisite the man in his embrace is, or how everything else pales in comparison whenever Liem has him there. The gaze that meets Cardan’s lust-veiled regard is intent with a hunger even more insatiable than his thirst for blood. He is the one who needs Cardan. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever stop needing him.]
My prince, ah— [he breathes with all the tenderness in the world, and holds him tight as Cardan’s climax finally takes him.]
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Especially when all he wishes is to use his mouth on Cardan. He cannot help but frown, unbidden and forlorn, when Cardan pulls away from him, the hands pinning his wrists forbidding him from attempting to close the distance between them. The warm transit of those hands still hums in memory beneath his skin, filling him with eagerness now unmet.
But he remains still and compliant, even when the brush of lips against his mouth makes him yearn to wrap around Cardan anew. He murmurs instead,] As you wish.
[How easily Cardan bids him, even though he is the source of Liem’s woes. One corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of that terrible, villainous smile.]
Your touch is my succour. And my torment.
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But in either case, it is persistently yours.
[ Though not for the next few seconds, perhaps. He sits up fully, slipping his hands from Liem's skin. At the last moment, he will glance over his husband, his expression coyly shuttered. ]
Close your eyes, Liem.
[ He doesn't assume lack of sight will make his movements much of a mystery to Liem -- he will certainly hear the whisper of sheets on skin as Cardan moves over to the nightstand, the soft clink of the bottle lid flicking open. He'll feel Cardan's weight shift against the bed as he returns. Perhaps he might feel Cardan's gaze, too; certainly it seems like he must, with how keenly lust pulses through Cardan at the look of him, at the elegant line of Liem's body stretched across the sheets, taut with erotic tension.
The slide of warm, oil-slick fingers starts at the hollow of Liem's throat. They are leisurely as they make their descent -- past his collar bones, over his chest, and lower, lower, painting glistening paths down his trim stomach and abdomen -- before Cardan moves, his other hand urging Liem's thighs apart so he can settle between them -- and finally, once more, take him in hand.
And if the sigh that falls from Cardan's lips sounds relieved, surely Liem will be too distracted to notice. ]
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He wants the reward Cardan has promised, vague as that promise had been. He wants to be at the mercy of Cardan’s whims, and if those whims are cruel then so be it. His husband is right; whether Cardan’s attention is a blessing or a curse, it still belongs to Liem, and he is greedy in his refusal to relinquish it.
The touch of warm, oil-slick fingers at his throat makes Liem draw a small, sudden breath, the skin beneath Cardan’s touch alive with anticipation. But his eyes remain closed, even as that touch trails down the taut, eager lines of his body, coaxing a small shiver here, a ticklish twitch there. His lack of sight only makes him more aware of the delicate touch, and when Cardan finally moves between his thighs and slides those gentle fingers around his cock once again, the soft sound that falls from Liem’s throat is all eagerness.
He wants and wants and wants—Cardan’s touch, his kiss, his greed and his cruelty and his affection. He wants Cardan to fuck him until he aches, and he wants him to cradle him close and torment him with his kisses. His hunger for him seems to have no end, so it’s just as well that his husband is the most insatiable person Liem has ever known.]
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How beautiful you are.
[ It's such a plain sentiment, spoken too bluntly, and yet he is too caught up to think of anything more fanciful just then. He can only breathe out, less measured than he means to be, and give Liem the reward he was promised -- the stroke of slick fingers over the silken length of his cock, leisurely but insistent. He is hungry for this, too; he wants to see that gorgeous tension grow through Liem's body, wants to catalogue every shiver and each fitful breath.
It's just that this desire wars with his need to put his mouth on Liem's skin. For a moment, he hesitates, caught between two different types of greed-- but he can't deny them both, after all. Not after he promised Liem that he would be rewarded; not after teasing them both for such a long time. ]
...come here.
[ His voice is rough with it. His free hand finds Liem's waist to splay greedy fingers towards the small of his back, urging him up, into Cardan's lap. ]
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But Cardan does not allow him such a luxury. He demands Liem’s attention, pulling the leash of it taut so Liem is occupied with the rough warmth of his voice and the insistent hand urging him up, into Cardan’s lap. Liem is pushing himself upright, fitting himself hungrily against Cardan, before he even has a chance to consider what his embarrassment was even for.
He is too busy seeking Cardan’s mouth to assault it with breathless, longing kisses, too busy sliding demanding, covetous hands up Cardan’s flanks and over his chest. If he is to shiver and pant and be driven mad with the relentless demands of his pleasure, he would much rather do so in Cardan’s arms.]
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Even so, Cardan will not be led astray entirely. The hand that pulled Liem close slips away. When it returns, it is to slide languid, oil-slick fingertips against Liem's entrance. His smirk, when he manages to pull away from kissing, is as breathless as it is malevolent. ]
Shall I give you more of me, husband? ...or will it be too overwhelming for you?
[ Neither of the questions are earnest; he is sure of the answer. Liem has never once refused him, even when the task has been impossible. He has found his husband quite prideful in his ability to endure, and surprisingly receptive to a little provocation of said pride.
It's just that he loves to hear Liem say it, even when the both of them know he is lying through his pointed teeth. ]
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Why would that matter at all?
[Since when has Cardan been cautious of overwhelming Liem when touching him? If anything, Liem would have thought that was his goal. And certainly Liem cannot resist more of his husband’s touch, no matter what the consequences for him may be.
Pressing closer, he nuzzles against Cardan’s jaw, inhaling the sharp, bright scent of him, warm skin and hot blood. It trembles through him, making Liem squirm against the slick hands still stealing his reason.]
I want it, Cardan.
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You are right. How foolish of me.
[ He wants to give Liem everything he wants and more, wants to drown him in pleasure's excesses, wants him a little mad, sick with lust and indulgence. He breathes in, turning his head so he can press his mouth to Liem's cheek, his temple, adorning him with distracted kisses. ]
You are, as ever, my sweetest vice.
[ Nothing and no one else so baits Cardan's hunger. When he presses slick fingers inside Liem, it is with a breathless, greedy longing. He wants Liem's mouth on his skin, desperate and wanting. He wants the bite of nails on his back again, wants the urgent gasps and the poetry of his lover's body pushed to its very limit. Nothing could make him tire of it. ]
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[A soft murmur escapes Liem as Cardan’s warm lips wander the side of his face. Truly, being at the mercy of Cardan’s touch makes him stupid, particularly when the taste of his blood has magnified that pleasure so it swallows everything else. No matter how thoughtful and discerning he might take pride in being at other times, when he is in Cardan’s arms, the only thoughts that remain in his head are those busy luxuriating in his husband’s ardent attention.
It does overwhelm him. The press of slick fingers inside him draws a shallow gasp from his throat, and the unrelenting attention of Cardan’s hands continues to send tight little shivers through him. By now he has concluded that Cardan isn’t going to let him come until he’s fucking him, but Liem doesn’t know how he’s meant to last that long without going insane, especially when he treats him like this. Taut with need roiling in him like a storm, he closes his eyes against it as his spine arches and his fingers curl restlessly against Cardan’s chest.]
Cardan, ahh…
[He can’t, he can’t endure this. His need is too fierce, and the sensations too keen. He has waited so long already; he doesn’t know how to find the patience to wait more when pleasure is already swamping his every coherent thought, growing like an avalanche he lacks the fortitude to withstand.]
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Shh, [ he murmurs against Liem's mouth, managing to wrest his tone to something resembling calm, ] just a little longer.
Let me have you like this a while longer, Liem...
[ As he is now: caught between sensation and satisfaction, so terribly, breathlessly impatient. It makes Cardan shiver with his own keen desire. In truth, he doesn't know how much longer he can wait, either -- not when Liem arches so against him, not when he says Cardan's name like that. He needs to have him, and soon, and if that's selfish -- well, Liem is surely used to Cardan's selfishness by now, anyway. ]
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After all, Liem was the one who said he wanted this. He told Cardan he wanted more, even if it was overwhelming; he cannot beg for mercy now.
But still, as his arms come greedily around his husband, his hands tremble and bite against the flesh of his shoulders, and the frantic gasps give way to a frustrated groan.]
Fuck—
[The need pounding through him, the pleasure and the stupid, unreasoning longing, all push him teasingly up against the edge of climax. Even though he knows Cardan will not let him cross over, even if it will just torment him further, he cannot pull himself back, only moan in breathless protest and squirm again into the relentless slide of Cardan’s hand.]
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It's just that Cardan is always greedy.
He wants Liem's climax for himself. He wants to feel the desperation that pours off of his husband, wants to have him in every way possible when he finally, finally comes. The hard grasp on his shoulders only narrows his focus, sharpens his intemperate, terrible desire for the man in his lap.
So: he denies Liem. One last time, he thinks, but doesn't say, because he's not entirely certain he can make the promise. Instead, he will dip forward to sink his teeth into the crook of Liem's shoulder, careful and indulgent, even as the grip of his hand grows forbidding again. In contrast to his husband, Cardan has settled into a calm stillness, save for his thundering heartbeat and the agitated coiling of his tail. All his attention is on Liem -- Liem's pleasure and his torment, his voice, the frantic tension in his body; there is nothing left over for his own pounding need, no matter how much it claws at his restraint.
And when it's over, he will pull his fingers from Liem's body with the same deliberate care, curling his hands over the curve of his husband's ass, so he can urge him to rise. ]
I'm going to fuck you now, [ he says, because they are surely far past the point of obliquely-worded sentiments. The smile on his face is a little tight with impatience. ]
Come here.
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He doesn’t think he can endure it—but he does endure, and when he has subsided, panting, against his husband, the familiar slide of Cardan’s hands moving to his ass to urge him up could almost make him weep with relief.
He goes where he’s bid, too wild with impatience to even complain about his husband’s cruelty. He needs him too keenly for that. All he can do is poise himself obediently over Cardan’s erection and dip his head to press his face into the soft curtain of Cardan’s hair.]
Please, [he murmurs against those damp curls. If Cardan fucks him now, he won’t last, but he cannot wait any longer. He has been waiting since Cardan locked eyes with him in the training grounds; he needs Cardan to have him, has always needed it, and now he cannot think of anything else.]
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But only for a moment, because even Cardan's masochism cannot prevail against the heady thrum of his need. He curls his hands over Liem's hips once more, urging him down, finally, onto the waiting length of his cock.
It's overwhelming; it's always overwhelming, especially after such a long wait. His own ragged breathing is loud in his ears as he bites back a wanting, desperate groan; he has to turn his head so he can distract himself with painting desperate, heated kisses onto Liem's neck, his jawline, his mouth. ]
You... hah... drive me to such madness--
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He seeks that feverish mouth with singleminded devotion, running gentle hands up Cardan’s shoulders and neck to capture his face, keeping him at the mercy of his ardent, hungry kisses. It is the only thing keeping him at all sane, given how alight he feels with desire. Kissing Cardan always steals all his attention, and now it is the rock he clings to amidst the storm threatening to overwhelm him completely.
But at least he is not alone. One thing he cherishes about his marriage is that Cardan has ever been just as susceptible to the lure of want for him as Liem might have wished.]
And I shall continue, [he breathes between demanding kisses,] for as long… as I can capture your desire.
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[ As always, he is helplessly distracted by Liem's kisses. He is particularly delectable, Cardan thinks, when he's hungry like this, demanding and tender all at once. For a moment, he must simply indulge, giving in to the fervent assault of that dangerous mouth, still anointed as it is with his own blood.
But Cardan yet has a plan up his sleeve. He had stayed on his knees for a reason; it's so that, now, he can wrap one arm tightly around his husband and tip forward, laying him out on the sheets with deliberate care: a precious thing to be displayed. And if the shift of their bodies makes his breath hitch, if he must close his eyes against the onslaught of shivery sensation -- well, it is only a taste of what's to come. Besides, as much as he enjoys anticipation, he does not wish to waste time any longer.
He opens his eyes again, drawing his hands up Liem’s flanks, so he can once more pin his wrists above his head. He wants to look at Liem, wants him taut and ready when he first rocks into the deliciously tight grasp of his body. This, too, is deliberate with intent. Selfishly, he wishes to trap Liem with the weight of his desire, wants him a little helpless and exposed. His vulnerability, his desperation — Cardan wants all those things, greedily, feverishly, all for his own. ]
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Not that Liem is less afflicted—not when he is so bewitched by Cardan’s mouth, and certainly not when Cardan is inside him like this. When Cardan shifts to lay him back against the bed, anticipation and delight shiver warmly up his spine in equal measure. He is so absorbed in running his hands all over his husband, intent on keeping him near no matter their orientation, that Cardan must be a little firm in guiding his hands back over his head.
But that is just fine. The feel of Cardan’s warm touch pressing his wrists into the bed’s plush covers sparks an eagerness in him that flares hot with that first, deliberate thrust. The soft, hungry noise that escapes him mirrors the fruitless curling of his now-empty fingers, and his legs wrap tight around his husband as if to make up for the fact that his arms cannot.
This is what he had wished for, when Cardan stole him away from the training grounds: Cardan pinning him with his gaze and his body and his desire alike; with naught but his touch, subduing Liem more completely than any armed knight could manage. Liem stares back at him, a little wild with hunger, daring him to claim everything he wants.]
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He can't not move. He can't even pretend to take his time. When he fucks into Liem again, there is a compulsive, hard quality to it. He'd spent so much time pushing Liem to the very edge of his patience that it seems like he's run out of his own -- and now he wants to see his husband lose himself, finally, wants to give him no room to be anything but Cardan's.
And so he doesn't say anything foolish, so that he doesn't betray himself in a way he can't -- still can't -- justify, he will dip down to crush his mouth against Liem's, breathless and hungry. ]
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It is too much, too fast, and with his hands pinned and his mouth occupied with Cardan’s feverish kisses, he can only arch helplessly against the covers and roll his hips into each urgent thrust. Immediately, he is thrown hard back against the edge of orgasm; he had known he would not last if Cardan fucked him like this, and his body’s eager agreement sends a shudder through him. He needs it so badly. He can do nothing at all to resist.
He can only try as best he can to match Cardan’s demanding rhythm, as he moves in him again and again and again—and then buck against him as the hungry torrent of his pleasure swells, bursts its banks, and sends him spilling over himself as Cardan fucks him into the bed.]
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[ This is exactly how he wants Liem -- helpless and overwhelmed with desire. It's only at that last moment, when Liem bucks against him, when he offers him the whole of his intemperate, desperate need, that Cardan releases his hands. He must, so that he can brace an elbow against the bed and use his other arm to pull Liem's hips closer, against him, greedy for him even in that moment of absolute pleasure.
Cardan doesn't come, not then -- which makes it even more agonizing to fuck Liem through his orgasm and then... simply stop, shivering with his own fervent need. He can feel it throbbing through his cock, still sheathed inside his husband; he can hear it in his harsh, compulsive breaths against Liem's cheek as Cardan cradles him close. It's just: he doesn't want it to stop. He doesn't want it to end, not yet.
He closes his eyes and presses a soft, deliberate kiss to the corner of Liem's mouth. ]
Have I made hard use of you, husband?
[ Like Liem had asked for. Like he had wanted. ]
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In this moment he is Cardan’s, completely and unreservedly. But foolishly, Liem has been unable to stop himself from feeling in some deep, inexpressible way that Cardan truly is his, as well.]
I don’t know, [he murmurs, exaggeratedly pensive, brushing his mouth against his husband’s jaw. He is still very aware of Cardan’s hard length inside him, the feeling of snug tightness informing him with no room for uncertainty that his husband is still fully erect.] You stopped. You haven’t come.
[Well. He hasn’t come since Liem sucked him off earlier, that is.]
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Still, this is what he has laboured towards: Liem's pliant, easy relaxation; the exhaustion that comes not from the strain of work, but from the demands of pleasure being thoroughly satisfied. How can he but take another moment to enjoy it? He turns his head, nuzzles Liem's ear, helplessly affectionate. ]
I suppose you are right, [ he murmurs, self-satisfied. ] I am not done with you yet, Liem Talbott.
[ He can wait no longer, anyway; he moves again, albeit slower now, indulgent in his enjoyment of his husband. He still wishes to draw it out, wishes to savour him on this last ascent toward release.
Not that it will take long, regardless. The tortured little gasp he buries against Liem's hair says as much, as does the hard grip of his fingers in the sheets. He has never particularly excelled at temperance, after all. ]
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It sparks a familiar greed in him—one that flares to life at the feel of Cardan moving inside him, painstakingly deliberate, and at the incongruously urgent sound of his hurrying heart and heavy breaths. He wants to wrap around his husband and keep him here forever, trapped by Liem’s arms and by his own desire. But then, Cardan’s desire burns so hot, feels so all-consuming. It makes Liem feel not just desirable, but vital, as necessary as air and as irresistible as blood. He wants to be the fuel for that fire; he can’t imagine not wanting it.]
Cardan.
[He murmurs against his skin as his hands trace the contours of the body he has come to know so well. Neck and shoulder, ribs and flank and spine, the lean angles of his hip and the length of his thigh. Shivering with the persistent aftershocks of his own pleasure, Liem paints breathless kisses over the elegant lines of Cardan’s jaw and neck, delirious with affection.]
Just like that, Cardan…
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His hand finds Liem's face, curls over his cheek as Cardan shifts to lean his brow against his husband's. His laugh is breathless. ]
Don't tempt me-- ah... [ It's difficult to think around the rising tide of his pleasure. He bites his lip on a moan, only barely remembering the other half of his quip. ] ...into being contrary.
[ He couldn't, regardless. He can't possibly stop now, not for anything or anyone, not even for the sake of mischief or pride. Liem's soft, easy affection unfurls some wild and starving thing within him, as it always does; it's all he can do not to tell Liem how terribly it scares him and how desperately he needs it anyway.
His breath speeds, grows more frantic, racing his heartbeat. It won't be long before his rhythm begins to stutter, more haphazard and less controlled, as need takes him over-- and he will let it, this time, gasping as he loses himself in the feverish pleasure of claiming his husband for his own, still, again. He wants Liem to see him. It startles him: his own shivery anticipation of sharing even this vulnerability. It seems that, at some point between their marriage vows and now, Cardan has lost his desire to hide from Liem's clear, crystalline gaze. He opens his eyes to meet it now -- half-lidded and hazy with lust, but meeting it all the same. ]
I need you, [ he gasps, though they're not the right words, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because his climax crashes over him like a storm surge, and then his eyes are shutting after all, and he's clutching at Liem and trying to remember how to breathe. ]
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Cardan is so beautiful. Every time Liem tells him, words seem to fall short, but he knows no other way to describe how incomparably exquisite the man in his embrace is, or how everything else pales in comparison whenever Liem has him there. The gaze that meets Cardan’s lust-veiled regard is intent with a hunger even more insatiable than his thirst for blood. He is the one who needs Cardan. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever stop needing him.]
My prince, ah— [he breathes with all the tenderness in the world, and holds him tight as Cardan’s climax finally takes him.]
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