[ 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.]
[ It's only after, when he's catching his breath, still shivering with the aftershocks of orgasm, that he remembers what he'd said and feels embarrassment flush in his face. Because it's true, of course: he does need Liem. It frightens him, how much he's come to rely on his husband in less than a year's time. And though he has spoken the words before, he'd never been quite so obviously serious.
He had convinced himself so thoroughly that he didn't need anyone or anything at all, and had been proven so completely wrong.
He can only bury his warm face against Liem's cool neck, and hope that Liem still believes him to be caught up in the throes of lust. This way, perhaps he will not recognize Cardan for his foolishness, for his helplessness, for the way both these things shame him. Perhaps if he distracts Liem with languid, deliberate kisses, his husband will forget. Perhaps, perhaps... ]
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no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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--
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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…
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
He had convinced himself so thoroughly that he didn't need anyone or anything at all, and had been proven so completely wrong.
He can only bury his warm face against Liem's cool neck, and hope that Liem still believes him to be caught up in the throes of lust. This way, perhaps he will not recognize Cardan for his foolishness, for his helplessness, for the way both these things shame him. Perhaps if he distracts Liem with languid, deliberate kisses, his husband will forget. Perhaps, perhaps... ]