"Hnn..." Dorian leans into the desperate kiss letting James claim his mouth, the man has been patient enough in the face of all of his promises and Dorian has nothing but appreciation for such patience. It's all passion and heat, and a kiss that leaves his jaw aching and his tongue a little sore from dealing with his companion's own. And then he pulls back a little just to hear his request, to feel the hands on him coaxing him back up for a ride and the mage is just as eager to taste that cock again, but with his ass.
"I...do like the idea of you making me moan..." Dorian said smiling and canting his head to the side a bit so James can continue his kisses. For his part the mage lowered himself down on top of the warm body beneath his own, he could feel the vibrations of pleasure and it tore another soft groan from him. His hips arched up just enough to give his still slick fingers the space he needed to find and tease apart his asscheeks so he could work them into the tight ring of flesh. He shuddered a bit and bowed his head against James's substantial chest, controlling his breathing while his fingers stretched out that part of him. It wouldn't take much, the mage only required just enough preparation to relax his body and soften himself up for James.
While he worked his fingers inside, twisting and scissoring while thrusting vigorously enough to have his hips pitching forward so that he was rubbing against the other man, his mouth occupied itself with slightly more aggressive pursuits. Teeth sank into meaty muscle, not enough to cause any harm, but enough to be almost possessive. A few solid bites, was followed by several gentler nips, and then he found a nipple and he willed himself to be gentler here. Only lightly tugging with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the hard nub and then sucking hungrily. It was his way of communicating his own needs and appetites.
When he'd strained his own tolerance to the point of being brittle Dorian withdrew his fingers and repositioned himself so that he was more upright, a hand pressing firmly onto the other man's chest while his hips angled toward his cock. He freed up the other hand so that he could guide the tip of James's cock to his hole, spreading his legs as wide as he could manage and still maintain his balance while doing so. The man was blessed and Dorian could feel the sting as his muscles resisted and he inhaled sharply. It wasn't bad it was an experience and one he'd been deprived of far longer than he would have liked.
"Anyone...ever tell you...that you have quite...the endowment..." Dorian managed through gritted teeth, his head bowed and his forehead gleaming with a light sheen of sweat.
His urgency makes Logan’s touch unrepentantly sloppy. Greedily touching and kissing anything he can reach whenever Dorian offers himself either intentionally or just by the happenstance of how he maneuvers himself over Logan’s thighs.
Mouthing hungrily at Dorian’s neck only lasts so long as he can go without watching the other man touch himself. The picture that chiseled body makes to penetrate himself is all angles and olive skin made gold by the flicker of the fire. He drags his tongue along the chord of his neck that disappears into his clavicle expecting him to taste of something as warm and spiced as the lighting makes him appear.
When Dorian hangs his head through that moment of resistance Logan cradles the nape of his neck. His blunt fingers lovingly raking through the fuzz of his short hair and soon down the man’s back to settle on an encouraging rhythm right at the small of his back. He takes a deep breath with his nose buried in Dorian’s hair, drinking in the scent of his growing arousal before he draws the man’s ear between his lips. “You look like sin,” he snarls. His lips curled by the switch of teeth and tongue across his chest.
The hand planted on his chest used to push Dorian upright braces the man’s weight against him in a way that makes Logan groan. He pushes against it just to feel himself further manhandled. Watching his partner stretching out above him, it’s all Logan can do not to interrupt when Dorian takes his cock in hand, but every time he feels that tight hole give way to him his resolve grows thinner.
When Dorian’s expression looks pinched Logan reaches for him. His heavy hands unexpectedly tender as he strokes the soft, thin skin that runs up the inside of Dorian’s taut thighs. Like he could soothe the discomfort away or at least provide enough pleasure to be distracting. He thumbs the chord between Dorian’s groin and his thigh until he’s palming the man’s balls and running a loose fist up the length of his cock.
“I… I’d like to think so,” he huffs, a flicker of a smile accompanying the remark. Memory might not be his strong suit at the moment, but at least his modesty isn’t missing.
He can feel the heat suffuse across his face and ears and down his neck as James growls in his ear, aware that he looks good and not ashamed in the least, but there's something about hearing it said to him like that that warms every inch of skin on his body even more in the presence of firelight. He's honestly impressed by the patience his companion is just barely clinging to, almost as impressed as he is with his own patience. The desire to just impale himself and fuck the other man hard readily occurred to Dorian, he could deal with the consequences later, the needy, wanton, gluttonous part wanted the sting of a good pounding and he wanted to feel it all night. Part of him could care less if he couldn't move tomorrow, if he spent the entire day alternating between warm soaks and laying on his stomach, it would be worth it.
He had some sense left in him, enough to prepare his body, take it slowly, measure his movements, and adjust to the stretching. He would still feel it tomorrow, he wanted to feel it tomorrow, but he could at least mitigate some of the consequences for both of them. As it was he was finding it difficult to hang on to the tattered bits of his sanity with James palming and pumping him, stroking and teasing him, gentle, clever fingers between his legs, on his thighs, it was driving him wild. He couldn't hold himself back when James took him in his insubstantial grip, it was so good to feel the warmth and texture of the man's fist, but it wasn't nearly tight enough or fast enough and Dorian felt a noise erupt from his chest that was somewhere between a strangled gasp and a clipped whine.
He felt his body collapse against James, his face buried in the man's burly chest as his hips jerked impatiently trying to find a rhythm. He nudged his face up, blindly kissing his way along the planes and plateaus of his companion's boy, to the curve of neck and shoulder, the cut of his jaw, the warmth of his cheek, his breath warm and sultry as he finally caught James's mouth in a brief, needy, messy kiss, "please...Maker...you're a tease, James...come on amatus..."
no worries! i've been travelling home this week anyway. still getting back to rp stuff.
The flush on Dorian’s face is subtle though the bronze of his skin, but when he sees it, it pulls a some satisfying chord deep inside him. He’s confident, comfortable man, who doesn’t appear to Logan as if he needs that kind of encouragement, but the fact that he can be moved to such a blush with the right touch and a little praise make’s Logan’s head swim.
The rhythm he sets for himself becomes smoother and Logan knows the initial resistance of his body is fading away. The waiting, the discipline, the rising intensity he feels in making himself wait— or being made to wait— is exhausting in a way that Logan craves. Only when his patience frays does he feel all of this so throughly and deeply that he starts to feel helpless to assault of sensations, the tight warmth of Dorian’s body, the smell of his fire warmed skin, the little hitched noises of his breath he may not even be aware he makes. It’s more than satisfying, it’s intoxicating. And perhaps foolish to chase such a powerful feeling with a man he’s so recently met, but for all Dorian already knows of him he can’t help feeling a little exposed to him in the first place.
“I don’t mean to be,” his breathy chuckle comes out soft and warm against Dorian’s mouth. His tongue skirts the swell of his bottom lip, eager to save the taste of him on his tongue. “You just look… like something I don’t want to forget.”
Despite his determination to burn into his mind the sight of Dorian straddling his hips, he’s not immune to Dorian’s pleas. His hands smooth up those taut thighs and settle into firm grip on Dorian’s hips. Blunt fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his backside. Enough to steady him when Logan falls to his back and tightens his stomach to buck up beneath him. Giving Dorian more if more is what he wants.
“Touch yourself for me,” he growls. Wishing he had enough hands not to let go of any part of him for another as his own body tenses and tightens past the point of no return.
"The...things you...say..." Dorian managed to groan out as James's tongue slid across the seam of his lips, it was so delectable that the mage couldn't resist flicking his own tongue out to greet him. The openness of such words went straight to his head like a fine wine, had a warming and dizzying effect on his entire body. He could feel a surge of pleasure rippling down his spine and if words could tighten his cock into unbearable hardness then the sweet honey dripping from the other man's lips had that sort of effect on him.
Something had to be said for having a command growled at him as well and as much as Dorian wanted to suffocate in his kisses with James, he levered himself up to give his companion the view he so didn't want to forget. Dorian had to grip the back of the couch to lever himself into a position that allowed James to watch him while he worked himself over. The mage's free hand slipped between his thighs, rolling his balls in his palm, fondling himself fervidly, almost aggressively, pulling a pitched moan from his lips. After toying with himself for a few moments, the mage took the opportunity to lick his own fingers and the palm of his hand, slicking his fist up just enough to provide a slick tunnel to fuck when he finally took his cock in hand.
Dorian's moans were soft, liquid purrs that filled the air as he simultaneously thrust himself onto James's rigid cock while pushing into his own hand. He was enjoying the firm hold on his hips, the way the other man was guiding him, the slight sting from his hole being stretched, and the friction inside of his body. With every upward thrust, he made a conscious effort to tense the muscles of his ass and give his companion's cock a squeeze enjoying the tight, full sensation it brought him.
Dorian was hardly neglecting himself, even as he rode James, he briskly pumped himself, stem to root. Occasionally he'd switch it up by polishing the flushed head of his arousal in a way that brought out soft tormented gasps or dragging his perfectly manicured nails gently down the shaft making him shudder, or pinching desperately at the small slit to encourage more precum to leak onto his companion's body.
The thought that he might get to do this all night sent him reeling with pleasure and he managed a soft, breathless gasp, "...James..."
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"I...do like the idea of you making me moan..." Dorian said smiling and canting his head to the side a bit so James can continue his kisses. For his part the mage lowered himself down on top of the warm body beneath his own, he could feel the vibrations of pleasure and it tore another soft groan from him. His hips arched up just enough to give his still slick fingers the space he needed to find and tease apart his asscheeks so he could work them into the tight ring of flesh. He shuddered a bit and bowed his head against James's substantial chest, controlling his breathing while his fingers stretched out that part of him. It wouldn't take much, the mage only required just enough preparation to relax his body and soften himself up for James.
While he worked his fingers inside, twisting and scissoring while thrusting vigorously enough to have his hips pitching forward so that he was rubbing against the other man, his mouth occupied itself with slightly more aggressive pursuits. Teeth sank into meaty muscle, not enough to cause any harm, but enough to be almost possessive. A few solid bites, was followed by several gentler nips, and then he found a nipple and he willed himself to be gentler here. Only lightly tugging with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the hard nub and then sucking hungrily. It was his way of communicating his own needs and appetites.
When he'd strained his own tolerance to the point of being brittle Dorian withdrew his fingers and repositioned himself so that he was more upright, a hand pressing firmly onto the other man's chest while his hips angled toward his cock. He freed up the other hand so that he could guide the tip of James's cock to his hole, spreading his legs as wide as he could manage and still maintain his balance while doing so. The man was blessed and Dorian could feel the sting as his muscles resisted and he inhaled sharply. It wasn't bad it was an experience and one he'd been deprived of far longer than he would have liked.
"Anyone...ever tell you...that you have quite...the endowment..." Dorian managed through gritted teeth, his head bowed and his forehead gleaming with a light sheen of sweat.
no subject
Mouthing hungrily at Dorian’s neck only lasts so long as he can go without watching the other man touch himself. The picture that chiseled body makes to penetrate himself is all angles and olive skin made gold by the flicker of the fire. He drags his tongue along the chord of his neck that disappears into his clavicle expecting him to taste of something as warm and spiced as the lighting makes him appear.
When Dorian hangs his head through that moment of resistance Logan cradles the nape of his neck. His blunt fingers lovingly raking through the fuzz of his short hair and soon down the man’s back to settle on an encouraging rhythm right at the small of his back. He takes a deep breath with his nose buried in Dorian’s hair, drinking in the scent of his growing arousal before he draws the man’s ear between his lips. “You look like sin,” he snarls. His lips curled by the switch of teeth and tongue across his chest.
The hand planted on his chest used to push Dorian upright braces the man’s weight against him in a way that makes Logan groan. He pushes against it just to feel himself further manhandled. Watching his partner stretching out above him, it’s all Logan can do not to interrupt when Dorian takes his cock in hand, but every time he feels that tight hole give way to him his resolve grows thinner.
When Dorian’s expression looks pinched Logan reaches for him. His heavy hands unexpectedly tender as he strokes the soft, thin skin that runs up the inside of Dorian’s taut thighs. Like he could soothe the discomfort away or at least provide enough pleasure to be distracting. He thumbs the chord between Dorian’s groin and his thigh until he’s palming the man’s balls and running a loose fist up the length of his cock.
“I… I’d like to think so,” he huffs, a flicker of a smile accompanying the remark. Memory might not be his strong suit at the moment, but at least his modesty isn’t missing.
How this missed my inbox is a mystery!
He had some sense left in him, enough to prepare his body, take it slowly, measure his movements, and adjust to the stretching. He would still feel it tomorrow, he wanted to feel it tomorrow, but he could at least mitigate some of the consequences for both of them. As it was he was finding it difficult to hang on to the tattered bits of his sanity with James palming and pumping him, stroking and teasing him, gentle, clever fingers between his legs, on his thighs, it was driving him wild. He couldn't hold himself back when James took him in his insubstantial grip, it was so good to feel the warmth and texture of the man's fist, but it wasn't nearly tight enough or fast enough and Dorian felt a noise erupt from his chest that was somewhere between a strangled gasp and a clipped whine.
He felt his body collapse against James, his face buried in the man's burly chest as his hips jerked impatiently trying to find a rhythm. He nudged his face up, blindly kissing his way along the planes and plateaus of his companion's boy, to the curve of neck and shoulder, the cut of his jaw, the warmth of his cheek, his breath warm and sultry as he finally caught James's mouth in a brief, needy, messy kiss, "please...Maker...you're a tease, James...come on amatus..."
no worries! i've been travelling home this week anyway. still getting back to rp stuff.
The rhythm he sets for himself becomes smoother and Logan knows the initial resistance of his body is fading away. The waiting, the discipline, the rising intensity he feels in making himself wait— or being made to wait— is exhausting in a way that Logan craves. Only when his patience frays does he feel all of this so throughly and deeply that he starts to feel helpless to assault of sensations, the tight warmth of Dorian’s body, the smell of his fire warmed skin, the little hitched noises of his breath he may not even be aware he makes. It’s more than satisfying, it’s intoxicating. And perhaps foolish to chase such a powerful feeling with a man he’s so recently met, but for all Dorian already knows of him he can’t help feeling a little exposed to him in the first place.
“I don’t mean to be,” his breathy chuckle comes out soft and warm against Dorian’s mouth. His tongue skirts the swell of his bottom lip, eager to save the taste of him on his tongue. “You just look… like something I don’t want to forget.”
Despite his determination to burn into his mind the sight of Dorian straddling his hips, he’s not immune to Dorian’s pleas. His hands smooth up those taut thighs and settle into firm grip on Dorian’s hips. Blunt fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his backside. Enough to steady him when Logan falls to his back and tightens his stomach to buck up beneath him. Giving Dorian more if more is what he wants.
“Touch yourself for me,” he growls. Wishing he had enough hands not to let go of any part of him for another as his own body tenses and tightens past the point of no return.
no subject
Something had to be said for having a command growled at him as well and as much as Dorian wanted to suffocate in his kisses with James, he levered himself up to give his companion the view he so didn't want to forget. Dorian had to grip the back of the couch to lever himself into a position that allowed James to watch him while he worked himself over. The mage's free hand slipped between his thighs, rolling his balls in his palm, fondling himself fervidly, almost aggressively, pulling a pitched moan from his lips. After toying with himself for a few moments, the mage took the opportunity to lick his own fingers and the palm of his hand, slicking his fist up just enough to provide a slick tunnel to fuck when he finally took his cock in hand.
Dorian's moans were soft, liquid purrs that filled the air as he simultaneously thrust himself onto James's rigid cock while pushing into his own hand. He was enjoying the firm hold on his hips, the way the other man was guiding him, the slight sting from his hole being stretched, and the friction inside of his body. With every upward thrust, he made a conscious effort to tense the muscles of his ass and give his companion's cock a squeeze enjoying the tight, full sensation it brought him.
Dorian was hardly neglecting himself, even as he rode James, he briskly pumped himself, stem to root. Occasionally he'd switch it up by polishing the flushed head of his arousal in a way that brought out soft tormented gasps or dragging his perfectly manicured nails gently down the shaft making him shudder, or pinching desperately at the small slit to encourage more precum to leak onto his companion's body.
The thought that he might get to do this all night sent him reeling with pleasure and he managed a soft, breathless gasp, "...James..."