( absolutely just caleb. ignore the growing number of lovebites that are blooming on his skin; they are a measure of worship, and perhaps wriothesley will present him up before the mirror after and let his fingers press into each and every one of them.
that provocative smile is ridiculously, achingly sexy; a man this beautiful and expressive should be a crime. even so, the commissioner revels in the falter of that unrepentant, cheeky smile, his own ocean-blue eyes gleaming with renewed mischief and promise, telegraphing his pleasure thanks to having his mouth full. head start? goodness, the sass of him. it's easy enough to lube up his own fingers, and while he focuses on taking his cock deeper into his mouth, tongue swirling and pressing up against the sensitive underside, laving at where he knows he's most sensitive, he circles the rim of his hole, delicately pressing a lube-slick fingertip inside of him.
he inches in gradually, distracting caleb from the inevitably discomfort with the pleasure of having his cock sucked and taken even deeper. caleb's not a small man, and even with wriothesley's skill, he needs a little time to get used to the girth and length of him, his mouth opening even wider to accommodate his size alone. )
his fingers instinctually tighten their grip on those black strands. the narrow heat of wriothesley's mouth and the knowing movements of that slick wet tongue sends a wave of pleasure rippling through his body. he feels like he could drown in it — in him and his unwavering oceanic blue eyes. it's all caleb can do but to muffle a throaty groan, his purple hues wholly darkened by a desirous lust at the sight of this formidable man so willfully and steadfastly taking his length in.
but then wrio's finger slides into him and, despite his best efforts, an involuntary gasp rips forth from between his lips. his mind commands his body to relax, yet rebellious in its nature, it eagerly tightens around the foreign intrusion instead. he quietly curses at its treachery, biting down on his bottom lip.
it has only been two weeks, he reminds himself. show some grace.
a flush creeps its way up his neck, painting it a rosy pink, even as his right hand digs into the sheet beneath him. ]
I told you—... [ he spreads his legs wider, almost defiantly. ] to be rough, Wrio. [ stop making him ache for him. ]
that demand has him drawing his mouth off of caleb's already painfully hard cock, slick with saliva. there's a thread of it that keeps them joined for precious seconds, with wriothesley's own lips glistening wet as well. the look in his eyes is amused, dark and absolutely turned on. )
You said rough, not cruel. You remember the safe word?
( even as he asks this, he pushes his finger even deeper inside of him, fully buried before pulling out. he takes his time to ease him into it, introducing a second lubed up finger. the finger-fucking is deliberate, thorough, rubbing along those walls and just short of brushing against his prostate. no, he doesn't get that pleasure yet, not until caleb gets more wild and desperate for it.
he occupies himself with nosing along his shaft, then takes his balls into his mouth, free hand coming to thumb the underside of his dick, teasing the large vein underneath. despite the playfulness, however, wriothesley can't deny his own desire and eagerness, his gaze trained on him. he knows the things that are said about him, flattering and otherwise — and he definitely knows just how many people are desperate to bed a young, gifted colonel like him.
yet, here he is in his bed, blushing and spreading his legs. he's shifting so that one of those legs is draped over his shoulder while he worships, lavishing attention on him with warm reverence.
I remember. [ whether he actually remembers the safe word or not doesn't matter because he isn't going to use it. ] So, hurry up—
[ wriothesley does not hurry up. instead, it feels (quite literally) like he is intent on taking his time with him. it's driving caleb crazy.
with each slow and purposeful stroke of those long fingers, coaxing and stretching out his passageway, caleb's want for something thicker and harder grows, spurred on by an intensifying, yearning itch as wrio continuously withdraws right before his sweet spot. ] Nngh. [ he bites down on his bottom lip hard, stifling a moan when wriothesley trains his affection on his sack. further stimulated by the rapt attention to his now fully erect cock, his prideful resolve shakes and shatters. ]
Wrio—... a-ahh. [ squirming under him, his hips desperately begin to move on their own accord, grinding up against his mouth, his fingers, craving for him to go deeper, faster, to fuck him relentlessly and without restraint. ] Enough. [ a husky, ragged plea, as he yanks at his hair. ] Please—... I want your cock.
( wriothesley definitely does not hurry up. no, he's addicted to that impatience, that growing, demanding want. he supposes that's one of the very few things that caleb allows himself; that cold, dispassionate veneer falling away to more unguraded desire.
he can't help but be entranced by the way the younger man struggles to hold himself back, the twitch of his cock and how he falls apart under him. he squirms and grinds, and wriothesley allows him what he wants, pushing a second finger inside of him, stretching him proper and fucking him faster. his slick digits sink deeper, deeper, rubbing up against slick, pulsing walls of that tight hole, and it's enough to take his breath away.
the tug is vicious, and he pulls himself away from his balls, his lips brushing over the plump, bulbous head of his dick. he licks, pressing a slippery, wet kiss to it before laughing softly, moving back up and over him, licking his lips. )
Better. ( he's pulling out his fingers moments after, squeezing more lube onto his fingers to slick his own cock up, showing off how hard, how flushed he is for his young lover. )
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no subject
that provocative smile is ridiculously, achingly sexy; a man this beautiful and expressive should be a crime. even so, the commissioner revels in the falter of that unrepentant, cheeky smile, his own ocean-blue eyes gleaming with renewed mischief and promise, telegraphing his pleasure thanks to having his mouth full. head start? goodness, the sass of him. it's easy enough to lube up his own fingers, and while he focuses on taking his cock deeper into his mouth, tongue swirling and pressing up against the sensitive underside, laving at where he knows he's most sensitive, he circles the rim of his hole, delicately pressing a lube-slick fingertip inside of him.
he inches in gradually, distracting caleb from the inevitably discomfort with the pleasure of having his cock sucked and taken even deeper. caleb's not a small man, and even with wriothesley's skill, he needs a little time to get used to the girth and length of him, his mouth opening even wider to accommodate his size alone. )
no subject
his fingers instinctually tighten their grip on those black strands. the narrow heat of wriothesley's mouth and the knowing movements of that slick wet tongue sends a wave of pleasure rippling through his body. he feels like he could drown in it — in him and his unwavering oceanic blue eyes. it's all caleb can do but to muffle a throaty groan, his purple hues wholly darkened by a desirous lust at the sight of this formidable man so willfully and steadfastly taking his length in.
but then wrio's finger slides into him and, despite his best efforts, an involuntary gasp rips forth from between his lips. his mind commands his body to relax, yet rebellious in its nature, it eagerly tightens around the foreign intrusion instead. he quietly curses at its treachery, biting down on his bottom lip.
it has only been two weeks, he reminds himself. show some grace.
a flush creeps its way up his neck, painting it a rosy pink, even as his right hand digs into the sheet beneath him. ]
I told you—... [ he spreads his legs wider, almost defiantly. ] to be rough, Wrio. [ stop making him ache for him. ]
no subject
that demand has him drawing his mouth off of caleb's already painfully hard cock, slick with saliva. there's a thread of it that keeps them joined for precious seconds, with wriothesley's own lips glistening wet as well. the look in his eyes is amused, dark and absolutely turned on. )
You said rough, not cruel. You remember the safe word?
( even as he asks this, he pushes his finger even deeper inside of him, fully buried before pulling out. he takes his time to ease him into it, introducing a second lubed up finger. the finger-fucking is deliberate, thorough, rubbing along those walls and just short of brushing against his prostate. no, he doesn't get that pleasure yet, not until caleb gets more wild and desperate for it.
he occupies himself with nosing along his shaft, then takes his balls into his mouth, free hand coming to thumb the underside of his dick, teasing the large vein underneath. despite the playfulness, however, wriothesley can't deny his own desire and eagerness, his gaze trained on him. he knows the things that are said about him, flattering and otherwise — and he definitely knows just how many people are desperate to bed a young, gifted colonel like him.
yet, here he is in his bed, blushing and spreading his legs. he's shifting so that one of those legs is draped over his shoulder while he worships, lavishing attention on him with warm reverence.
ache for him, brat. he wants to see it. )
no subject
[ wriothesley does not hurry up. instead, it feels (quite literally) like he is intent on taking his time with him. it's driving caleb crazy.
with each slow and purposeful stroke of those long fingers, coaxing and stretching out his passageway, caleb's want for something thicker and harder grows, spurred on by an intensifying, yearning itch as wrio continuously withdraws right before his sweet spot. ] Nngh. [ he bites down on his bottom lip hard, stifling a moan when wriothesley trains his affection on his sack. further stimulated by the rapt attention to his now fully erect cock, his prideful resolve shakes and shatters. ]
Wrio—... a-ahh. [ squirming under him, his hips desperately begin to move on their own accord, grinding up against his mouth, his fingers, craving for him to go deeper, faster, to fuck him relentlessly and without restraint. ] Enough. [ a husky, ragged plea, as he yanks at his hair. ] Please—... I want your cock.
no subject
he can't help but be entranced by the way the younger man struggles to hold himself back, the twitch of his cock and how he falls apart under him. he squirms and grinds, and wriothesley allows him what he wants, pushing a second finger inside of him, stretching him proper and fucking him faster. his slick digits sink deeper, deeper, rubbing up against slick, pulsing walls of that tight hole, and it's enough to take his breath away.
the tug is vicious, and he pulls himself away from his balls, his lips brushing over the plump, bulbous head of his dick. he licks, pressing a slippery, wet kiss to it before laughing softly, moving back up and over him, licking his lips. )
Better. ( he's pulling out his fingers moments after, squeezing more lube onto his fingers to slick his own cock up, showing off how hard, how flushed he is for his young lover. )
I love seeing you like this; you're so honest.