sterngaze | psl | arranged marriage: continuation

[ He pulls away long enough to flash his grin up at Liem, toothy and theatrically villainous. ]

You'll have your chance yet, husband.

[ But later. Right now, he only wants to lean into the caress of Liem's gentle fingers and keep on with his task. He's eager to tease those easy breaths into impatience, but first he will work to get Liem's trousers down his slim hips, and then divest his husband of them entirely. The shirt he can tolerate, but he wants his husband at least this bare. After all, how is Cardan supposed to warm him up with the barrier of clothing between them?

(Despite this, he leaves Liem his socks. He has grown fond of them, over time; something about their contrast against Liem's pale skin is just a little titillating.) ]

[Liem certainly hopes to yet have his chance to devote himself to Cardan’s pleasure. The night has only just begun, and while his husband does seem delighted by the results of his errand, he is not so unambitious as to be satisfied with a single token gesture to celebrate his lover. Even if he can never confess how important Cardan is to him, he must at least ensure Cardan feels properly cherished. That is the most vital thing.

It’s troublesome, how that villainous smile makes Liem so desperate to kiss him. It’s troublesome because his husband is not within easy kissing range just now, and although he is inclined to give Cardan the freedom to enjoy him how he wishes, patience is difficult when he is being unwrapped like a paper-covered present. Even the brushes of contact and the warmth of Cardan’s breath on his skin as he undresses him send warm shivers of lust through his body.

But he must be patient—and as ever, because he must, he will. Even if all he can think about is Cardan’s dark head bent over him and the heat of his mouth, and the long hands he trusts so completely caressing his skin. He will continue his gentle caress of Cardan’s back, his shoulders, his hair, and he will wait for his husband to return to him.]

[ Liem need not be patient for long. As soon as Cardan has pulled the trousers off his body, he will make his way back up, pausing only to document his journey with indulgent kisses—to the sharp slant of Liem’s hip, his stomach, just over his ribs—until he has finally shimmied himself into place over him.

It is a relief, to sink down, to press his body to his husband’s in one long, uninterrupted line of contact. A relief, too, to kiss him again—even if it feels a little selfish, given his husband has admitted to being at least a little sore. But rather than guilt, Cardan only feels the spark of intemperate excitement when he thinks of the golden stud pillowed atop Liem’s pierced tongue. Liem will feel it, surely, in the quick tempo of his heart, in the way Cardan moves against him, shivering with the delicious friction of it. ]

[Liem cares not at all for the half-healed piercing in his tongue, or the ache it produces when jostled. Such things are unimportant in the face of the indulgent kisses stamped against his skin, Cardan’s feverish body nestled against his, and the eager relief of wrapping around him and finally kissing that irresistible mouth as he had wanted.

He does so eagerly, pulling Cardan close against him, sensation shivering through him at the press and slide of their bodies, and he does not intend to stop kissing him until his lover is forced to pull away to breathe.

When he had risen earlier this evening, and before that, as he had planned this night, he had wished above all to make it special for Cardan. He had thought endlessly about it, wanting to consider every angle of the evening—but now that he is back in Cardan’s arms, the only thing he can think about at all is him, and how happy he is to have him there.

How very typical this is; no one else has ever distracted Liem from both his labours and his worries with the effortless entirety that his husband achieves with only his touch.]

[ He has plans; he always has plans for his husband, every night and every day, because he never really stops thinking about having his hands or his mouth on Liem. But right now, when Liem is pulling him close, those plans can wait. Right now, all he wants is simple touch -- to wrap his hand around them both and stroke, shivering into the delicious pleasure. He wants the easy, indulgent delight of enjoying his husband's body, of having him nestled close and eager for Cardan, in this bed that smells like both of them already.

He is indeed breathless when he breaks away, the air hot and heavy in his lungs. It breaks against the corner of Liem's mouth as he gasps, his hips moving in tandem with his stroking hand. He can still taste Liem's blood on his tongue, and when he looks down at him -- him, who is so different already from the coiffed and pressed figure that had woken him just minutes ago -- he cannot help but marvel. ]

I cannot believe--

[ He breaks off with an breathy laugh, one which is itself interrupted by a groan. Instead of talking, it is perhaps best if he kisses Liem again; he is bound to say something stupidly happy otherwise. ]

[Cardan’s aborted sentence earns a curious little hum from Liem, but following that curiosity any further is nearly impossible when Cardan is touching him like this. Liem rolls his hips into the indulgent stroking of his hand, and he pulls his lover close for another kiss, and then another, delightedly content to concern himself only with the feel of their bodies moving in concert and the hungry kisses stolen between heavy breaths.

Still, his husband’s astonishment remains quite charming. He can only be pleased with the success of his little scheme.]

Is it really that shocking?

[His voice is a breathy murmur, brushed against Cardan’s skin between kisses that wander in the direction of his jaw. It is a rare thing indeed for him to surprise his husband so; he savours it now, delighted by the way it seems to knock Cardan’s smug, self-possessed masks out of place. He could almost imagine that those charmingly naked sides of Cardan that he sees so rarely are his and his alone, something no other companion or lover has ever had the chance to enjoy.]

Of course, [ he murmurs. If Liem were hoping to keep his smugness at bay, he might find himself disappointed. It returns now in his little smile, though there is a curl of breathless enchantment in it. ] Should I not be shocked when my... mm... my terribly sensible husband adorns his body for my pleasure?

[ Yes, of course it's shocking. Even after most of a year spent together, he never quite expects this lewd, intemperate part of Liem. It leaves him defenseless against his own lust as it catches in his throat, shivers through his veins, intoxicating and a little feral. How absurd, that he should feel more possessive in the wake of receiving Liem's gift.

And still: if Liem is sometimes intemperate, then Cardan is always, always greedy. ]

How much, [ he breathes, tilting his face to brush distracted kisses over Liem's temple, his brow, ] are you willing to indulge me tonight, husband?

[ He knows the answer to this question. But the folly of greed is always wanting to hear it, regardless. ]

[It does sound titillating when Cardan says it. Liem cannot deny that this is the first time he has ever thought to make a gift of himself in this way—the first time he has ever wanted to. But he loves belonging to Cardan. It pleases him terribly to make his own body an altar to his devotion, even if forever promises to his husband of one year are a foolish thing for him to wear in his own flesh.

And it has made Cardan so delighted, so surprised, so smug. How could Liem regret his decision when it has been received so beautifully?

As easy as thought, he subsides beneath his husband’s retaliatory kisses, letting his face tip as Cardan’s lips wander temple and brow. As always, the tenderness of kisses there immediately occupies his attention.]

You know the answer, Cardan. [Liem is often pleased to indulge his lover’s whims when his hands are on him like this. Tonight, though? On the anniversary of Cardan’s birth?] You may have whatever you wish.

[ His wolfish grin flashes on his face, satisfied, but Cardan doesn't voice his wishes right away. He must take a moment to indulge, first-- in the pliant softness of his lover's mouth, in the silken slide of his cock against Cardan's. It's good, it's so good; had they both just awoken, he might have been content with the easy pleasure of this indulgence.

But, of course, neither of them is built for easy things.

He pulls away. His hand slides from both of them; he shivers with the loss. His palms find Liem's narrow hips instead -- and then smooth down over his thighs as Cardan pushes himself up to kneel, letting the duvets pool around his knees. Liem may not have gotten much warmer, but Cardan wants to see him, with his disheveled shirt and tousled hair -- and, as always, the fussy socks that have so come to delight him. His gaze on Liem is greedy. For a long moment, he just watches him, taking him in, from the tips of his ears to the pale thighs Cardan has nestled himself between. He cannot help the sharp, satisfied smile that blooms on his face. ]

Turn around, husband, would you?

I wish to have you from behind.

[When Cardan draws away from him to gaze down at his body, the sudden absence of contact feeds the hungry ache flaring beneath Liem’s skin. The starved, ravenous part of him that feeds his impatience wants to push up from the bed he’s reclining on, wants to chase Cardan up and claim that soft mouth again, regardless of his husband’s attempt to consider him.

But that intent, hungry gaze is irresistible in its own way. Liem watches it move over him, restraining his yearning as he indulges instead in the pleasure of simply being desired, frustration and eagerness alike throbbing through him in every place he aches for lack of Cardan’s touch.

It makes the tease of Cardan’s warm hands on him all the more impossible to ignore. Impatience glitters in his eyes as he finally pushes himself upright, leaning closer to steal one last kiss from his husband. As his teeth graze the curve of Cardan's lip, he shrugs the unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders and tugs it free of his arms, one sleeve at a time.

If he is to have Cardan at his back, he insists on being bare. He wants to feel the heat of his breath and the intensity of his gaze, and the softness of his skin where they touch. If he is going to let Cardan take him as he pleases, Liem wants to feel his lover’s desire in every shift of air against his bared skin.]

Here, [he murmurs, pulling away so he can turn as Cardan had directed, thighs spread so his husband can nestle between them. Just where Liem wants him.]

[ Despite that Cardan was the one who asked for this, Liem will no doubt hear his sharp, startled intake of breath. This evening has already teased him with everything that preceded it -- he is unprepared for the sheer eroticism of his husband's offering himself to him this way. It makes his heart thump hard in his chest, makes his head cloud with desire. ]

Liem...

[ His greed is helpless. Though it is not exactly what he'd planned on doing, he cannot stop himself from moving, from running greedy hands over the muscle of Liem's back, down his flanks, his hips, before Cardan presses close against him. For a moment, he can only bury his face against Liem's neck, breathing him in with a degree of need that borders on compulsion. His heavy kisses stamp against the back of his husband's neck, his shoulder; his mouth traces the shell of Liem's ear. His breath comes noticeably harder when he speaks, his voice so low it is nearly a growl: ]

You're the only one who does this to me.

[ Only Liem can make Cardan this insane, can offer himself up so fully and still evoke this howling greed that blots out everything else. It takes a gargantuan effort to peel himself away -- though he must, he must, if he is to procure the vial of oil, if he is to actually fuck Liem in the way that he wants to. And he does, so fervently, want to. ]

[As soon as Liem has turned himself around, as soon as he feels the hungry gaze on his back and hears the sharp intake of Cardan’s breath, the lust simmering low in his belly heats to a feverish pitch. He feels drawn tight, a held breath waiting for the next touch, each sensation now keener for the lack of his own ability to see Cardan, to touch him.

Warm palms sliding down his body make him shiver, and when Cardan presses close to pepper his skin with heavy kisses, Liem arches against him, savouring the feel of his lover’s body at his back.]

Good.

[He says it under his breath, a selfish little sentiment barely more than a whisper. Good; he wants to be the only man who so stokes Cardan’s desire. He wants to capture his greed so completely that Cardan never thinks to look at anyone else or wish for something new. And he wants every scrap of Cardan’s avid attention that he can get, because the only true bliss he has known has come in the form of his husband wrapped around him like a precious secret, and he is ever desperate for that feeling.

He has never been able to understand the lure commanding Cardan’s obsession, but it doesn’t matter. He has it now, and he wants nothing more than to indulge that obsession as far as it will go.]

[ He is gone for the space of a few breaths, hurried forward by his own relentless desire. When Cardan returns, his touch is gleefully indulgent: sliding slick fingers over Liem's chest to tease at his nipples, even as he bends low to suck a bruise to the tender skin behind his husband's ear.

And he keeps talking, because it's difficult to stop when he's like this, so sensitized and full of ardent feeling. ]

I love-- [ He pinches, delighted by the way the oil-slick skin feels under his fingers. ] --having you exposed to my whims.

[ It makes him a special kind of desperate, always. His touch slides lower, painting Liem's skin with a glistening trail of oil, until he can wrap greedy fingers around his cock and stroke. And if he moves against Liem in time with the movement of his hand, it's only because he's so enamoured with him, so impatient, so helplessly taken in. ]

[For some reason, Liem doesn’t expect the heated mouth behind his ear and the slick touch at his chest. He had expected warm, impatient fingers sliding between them to penetrate him, to make him ready for Cardan to claim him in the way that he obviously (Liem had thought) wanted; instead, his sudden breath is surprised as his husband bends over him again, teasing one eager nipple as he murmurs against Liem’s neck. Liem shifts beneath him, arching and then shivering with the insidious pleasure of the teasing attention to his chest.]

I— ah—

[The slide of the fingers closing around his cock interrupts both speech and thought, making them stutter as Cardan grinds wantonly against him. His eyes sink closed and he swallows back an eager little noise that the slick stroking threatens to coax from him.

Because he, too, loves being at Cardan’s mercy like this. He loves feeling like he belongs to him, wholly and unreservedly, like a special toy he cannot get enough of. It drives him mad, every time—and it is a madness he is ever glad to fall prey to.]

[ The difficult part of having Liem at his mercy is that Cardan is impatient for all of him, all the time, and yet he only has two hands to work with. He considers, for a moment, staying like this -- he's sure he could tease them both to distraction easily enough, with his hand on Liem's cock and his mouth decorating the elegant line of Liem's shoulders with bruises and love bites.

It's just that he's restless about it. It's just that he wants Liem to lose the ability to suppress the sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape him, wants him well and truly vulnerable to the gauntlet of Cardan's intemperance. So he will move, as he must, trailing heated kisses down the line of Liem's spine, into the dip between his shoulder blades -- before he finally straightens, back to being upright on his knees.

The view he gets from this angle makes him shiver and suck in another wanting breath -- and he knows, despite the maddening loss of friction, that he's made the right choice. He keeps up the insistent, demanding stroking, even as his slick fingers find Liem's entrance and press inside him.

Liem is right about one thing: he is impatient about it. It will show in his tortured, shivery exhalation, in the heat of his hands and the hurried tempo of his heart. For all that he loves having Liem in his grasp, he can never help being hungry for more of him. ]

[It’s a little torturous when Cardan pulls back again, the lean, solid heat of him pulling away from Liem’s back, leaving Liem bereft of his weight and his hungry kisses. He is loath to lose these things—though there is a limit to how disappointed he can be, when he is still occupied by the slick, determined fingers closed around his cock. His breath still comes in heavy, restless gasps as Cardan works him—and when he does feel oiled fingers penetrating him after all, those restless breaths leave him on a stuttered sigh.

And still, Liem too is hungry like this. He is eager for Cardan’s pleasure; he wants to feel the grind of his hips against him again, wants to hear his indulgence in the speeding tempo of his pulse and feel the heat of Cardan’s restless breaths breaking against his skin. It makes him more impatient, to be the only one being touched. He bites down stubbornly on his lip in response, trembling with the effort of withstanding Cardan’s diligent caress, refusing to let himself squirm into his hands.

Even if it is driving him quietly insane. Even if, despite his stubbornness and his frustration, he still does not ever want Cardan to stop.]

[ Selfishly, he adores this too: Liem's gasps and hitched breathing, the beautiful trembling of the slim body beneath his touch. Selfishly, because he suspects Liem prefers closeness to the distance of Cardan's hungry regard -- and because Cardan nonetheless loves him a little desperate, loves it when his obliging husband breaks and becomes demanding of Cardan's touch.

He lacks the patience to torment Liem long enough to get there, this time, but he will still savour this while he can. And, after all, he so prefers to be thorough when he's working Liem open for his cock, because there are few things as satisfying as sinking into a body so perfectly eager, teased so pliant by desire. His own breath stutters just thinking about it, and lust thrills through him, heady like Faerie wine. ]

...Are you holding back, husband?

[ And on the night of my birth? is the implication that curls smugly around his words, unsaid. Nevermind that Cardan had not expected to celebrate the night of his birth a scarce half hour ago; they are celebrating now, and so Liem, obviously, ought to oblige him. ]

[Liem feels Cardan’s smug question slide velvet-soft over him, making his skin tingle as though teased by Cardan’s warm breath. Yes: Of course he is holding back. He has to be patient; he cannot lose his head to pleasure when Cardan is still in the midst of readying him for his cock… can he?

Uncertainty joins hands with the slick touch determined to make him stupid with lust. He doesn’t remember why patience is so important just now, and he lacks the focus necessary to figure it out. He has some vague idea that surely his husband enjoys testing his stubbornness, but the note of reproach implied in Cardan’s tone makes Liem question this, and wonder if the only thing Cardan enjoys is the indulgence of seeing him stripped bare of it.]

Should I do otherwise…?

[As if to punctuate his breathless question, Liem rolls his hips into the tight embrace of Cardan’s stroking hand. Sensation pulls another aborted moan to the very back of his throat, making his lashes flutter. Still, he refuses to give the impulse free rein.]

Mm… Would that please you?

Yes, [ Cardan breathes. Yes, of course it would please him -- him, who has laboured for nothing quite so hard as he has for Liem's abandon. It was his own stubborn hunger that first drove him to this: the desire to see more of those tantalizing glimpses of desire, of the vulnerability that his husband showed only so rarely. Now, months later, he considers it nothing less than a sacred duty.

Someone ought to unshackle Liem from his self-control, every now and then, and no one else seems meet for the task.

It makes him a little feral, every time he gets close. When Liem fucks into his grip, Cardan's determined rhythm falters, for the briefest moment. He wants to fuck him; he wants to sweep away all of Liem's relentless restraint, wants to claim him with his hands and mouth and cock. The fact he is, presently, permitted only one of those is unconscionable. His sigh is ragged with impatience. ]

I always want everything, Liem. Surely you know.

[Cardan’s immediate, impatient reply coaxes a brief smile onto Liem’s face, charmed as he is for a moment despite the warm touch occupying the entirety of his attention. Yes, of course Cardan wants this; what of Liem’s doesn’t his husband desire, after all? It is one of the constants that Liem trusts in, that Cardan always wishes to possess that which is his.

Fortunately, Liem loves surrendering parts of himself into his husband’s avaricious care. He lets his eyes fall closed again as the thought pulses through him, pulling a wanting sigh from his throat.]

Keep my restraint a while, then.

[If Cardan wishes to be in charge of such things for tonight, he certainly may. It will free Liem to squirm again into the welcome attention of Cardan’s hands, helpless little breaths catching at his lungs. Pleasure shivers through him, insistent.]

I am in your care.

[ Paradoxically, even though he'd wanted to have Liem in his sight badly enough to deprive both of them of contact... when Liem gives him the thing he wants, when he sighs and then squirms into Cardan's touch -- is when Cardan's own restraint fails altogether. His fingers slide out of Liem; he needs his hand to support himself. Because he must move, again, to cover his husband's lithe body with his own, his feverish mouth sliding up to his Liem's ear. ]

Always, husband. Always.

[ This is his one and only duty: to take care of the man he has wed, to keep him happy, to occupy his thoughts with something other than obligation and self-reproach. He will pursue it with a zealous fervour he has never dedicated to anything before. But then, Nicasia didn't need him, and he'd never loved anyone else.

The thought wakes some unnameable ache within his chest.

He smothers it with his own hunger, shifting to press closer still, his mouth smearing haphazard kisses over Liem's shoulders. ]

Come up, [ he will instruct, because he needs all of it-- needs to torment Liem with his hands and with his mouth, needs to feel every exquisite shiver and gasp against his own body. He cannot -- cannot possibly -- achieve both of those things like this. The warm hand on Liem's cock shifts, briefly, to splay on his abdomen, urging him upright just as well. ]

[Cardan’s voice in his ear stirs a hot little flutter just below his ribs, eager and anxious both. Cardan often awakens this feeling in him: a yearning so desperate it frightens him with its heedlessness. Liem shivers with it now, feeling ripples of that wanting heat spread from everywhere Cardan’s lips touch. His lover’s welcome presence against his back makes the attention to his cock seem all the more demanding, and he groans with frustration when suddenly the stroking touch moves away.

Eager to enable both Cardan’s hungers and his schemes, Liem moves readily at his direction, shifting forward slightly so he can brace himself still against the elegantly appointed earthen wall above the headboard. He is trembling enough already without adding the possibility of wobbling off-balance to the mix.]

[ Cardan barely backs off enough to give Liem space to right himself; as soon as his husband is upright, he presses against him once more, greedy as always. For a moment, he simply stays like that, letting his quick breaths break against the edge of Liem's ear as his possessive hands skim down his husband's trembling flanks. It is such a joy, always, to feel him -- solid and real and beautiful and Cardan's, ever Cardan's, in every way he never thought he'd have. He cannot fathom that the world doesn't burn up in jealousy over his good fortune.

The firm hold of his hands purports to be steadying as they slip down to Liem's slim hips... only to tug them backwards, toward him. It is a little wicked, maybe, to unbalance Liem when he's already been so obliging, but Cardan cannot help craving his husband's vulnerability. It sparks a lean, hungry heat in him; he suspects they are alike in this, too.

And when he spreads Liem's thighs with hungry hands, when he presses against him, and then inside, filling him up and claiming him again, it is as perfect as it ever has been. The pleasure of it pulses through him, impossibly keen; his teeth sink into Liem's shoulder, seeking to muffle the wanting groan that rises from his throat. ]

[Liem tries, with limited success, to temper the impatience he feels as Cardan presses close again, slick palms roaming Liem’s flanks while his lover’s breath tickles his ear. He wants those hands everywhere. He wants the cock pressed conspicuously against him to be inside him. It seems outrageous to him that his restless, ever-hungry husband could still consistently find the patience to tease him in this way, just to drive him a little bit more insane.

Well, Cardan already said he didn’t want Liem holding back. Probably he feels the same about Liem’s efforts to endure his own anticipation without complaint—but Liem can’t quite bring himself to abandon that inclination so easily, even for his husband.

He only makes a small, startled noise when Cardan tugs his hips back, forcing him to find his balance again, braced slightly lower against the wall. That surprise turns to a breathless little moan as he feels Cardan finally press into him, the sensation accompanied by a delicious stab of pain from his husband’s sudden bite. His cock throbs with it, and he continues to be keenly aware of the hands now traversing his hips and thighs, very much not touching the rest of him.]

Yes, [he gasps, clutching uselessly at the stone and root beneath his hands.] Cardan…

[ Every time he fucks Liem, he finds himself teetering on the edge: determined to try and make it last, to draw out his husband's torment and pleasure alike-- and yet, and yet, ever vulnerable to his own consuming lust. The soft little moan Liem gives nearly pushes him over, sparking a flare of heat inside him. His hands on Liem tighten, grow hard; his breathing is already heavier than he wants it to be.

But he doesn't tumble over into madness, not quite. When he moves inside Liem, when his hips rock into him, it's with a leisurely rhythm that belies the need burning through him. Still, his thrusts are heavy, deliberate; when his hand closes over Liem's, it's because he, too, needs to brace himself.

His voice will rumble in Liem's ear, quiet like a secret. ]

The way you fit me-- [ It's perfect. Liem is perfect, in a way that makes Cardan foolish with besotted greed. But that's fine; he's stopped caring such a long time ago. ] --like you were made for me alone, husband.

[ Like he was made to be Cardan's. What else could explain the way obsession has made its home in Cardan's bones, the way it's crawled into his belly and settled in his heart? Some strange fate has, surely, planned this for him -- has given him this man to care for and torment with his devotion. ]

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