BWOC Fic: Silk VI (Tommy/Merton, NC17)
Title: Silk VI
Fandom: BWOC
Pairing: Tommy/Merton
Rating: NC17
"This sucks."
He rolls his eyes and I know it's because it's not the first time I've said that tonight. I can't help it, though; I hate being trapped in our dorm room on New Year's Eve when the rest of the world is out having a great time. Not that I mind being alone with Merton, but I feel bad that he's stuck here with me just because the full moon happened to fall on New Year's this year.
"Come on, Tommy, it's not that bad. So we don't go to some loud party with a bunch of people we don't know. It's not like we're missing anything."
I know he means it, but hearing him say it just makes me feel even more guilty. "You don't have to stay here just because of me, Merton. You could go to some loud party without me, you know."
And okay, I didn't mean to sound like I'm feeling sorry for myself, but it's hard for me to hide anything from him. Before he knew for sure how I felt it wasn't quite as hard to keep him in the dark about stuff, but now I don't have a prayer and we both know it.
"We've spent every full moon together since you got bit," he reminds me in that low voice that lets me know I should know better than to say dumb stuff like that to him. The worst part is that I do know better, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating.
"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just…this sucks, you know? We can't even do anything." I'm too busy looking down at the extra hair covering my hands to notice him moving, but when he drops to his knees in front of me I look up again. "What are you doing?"
"What's it look like?" he asks, reaching into his pocket with one hand while he reaches up with the other and grabs one of my wrists. "There's no rule that says we just have to sit here and stare at each other all night, you know."
"Merton, no. It's too dangerous, what happens if I accidentally hurt you?"
"First of all, I know you'd never hurt me, Tommy." He says it with such confidence that I can tell he really means it, and even though I'm nowhere near as sure as he is I have to admit it's kind of a turn-on. I mean just the fact that he still wants me even when I'm in freak mode…if I hadn't already decided I was never letting him out of my life this would have done it for me.
He finally holds up what he pulled out of his pocket, and I frown when I realize it's some kind of scarf. "You worry way too much," he tells me as he pushes my wrist down onto the arm of the chair and loops the scarf around it. "But if this will make you feel better, you can think of it as a late Christmas present."
"You already gave me a…" As soon as I realize what he's getting at I stop talking, feeling stupid and scared and turned on all at once as I watch him tie my wrist to the chair. I open my mouth to say something else, but my voice gets caught in my throat and I have to cough and shift in the chair before I can get the words out. "Merton, I can rip right through this."
"I know." He looks up and gives me a smile like he knew I was going to say that; maybe he did, because he knows me better than anybody and considering he's had a couple silk scarves stuck in his pockets all day it's pretty obvious he's given this some thought.
"So it's still not a good idea." My voice sounds lower than usual and I know it's because I'm already half-hard just at the thought of what he wants to do, and I'm not really sure why I'm trying to talk him out of it. I have to try, though, because there's no way I could live with myself if I did anything to hurt him.
"Tommy, relax," he says, dropping the second scarf on my knee for a minute while he leans closer to me and runs his fingers across my cheek. Even that touch makes me shiver with anticipation, and I know there's no way I'm going to be able to stop if he's determined to try this. "It's not like you suddenly turn mean when you wolf out. It's still you, the person I'd trust with my life. These aren't to stop you from getting loose. It's just a reminder, so when you feel the scarves holding your wrists to the chair you'll remember why you're not touching right now."
Leave it to Merton to make sense even when he's trying out a new kink. I know he means everything he just said, but judging by the way he's looking at me and the way he's fingering the scarf that's already tied around my wrist I can tell he's getting off on the idea of tying me up. He's encouraged my thing for silk more than anybody else probably would have, though, and if this is what turns him on I'm more than happy to go along with it.
Not that I've got a lot of choice, because he's already tying my second wrist to the chair. The silk feels good against my wrists, and I flex my hands experimentally to make sure he's got them tight enough to stop me from doing any damage before I even notice I've moved. When I look up again he's sitting back on his heels watching me, and my heart skips a beat when I catch the look in his eyes. "Okay?"
"Yeah," I manage to choke out, my voice even huskier than it was a few minutes ago. It probably never would have dawned on me to try something like this, but now all I can think about is the fact that we should have tried it months ago. It's the first time we've ever done anything while I'm in wolf mode; he's hinted around about it once or twice, but I've always been too scared to try it until now.
And it just figures that he's the one that thought up a way to make me feel safe about this, even if it's just tying me to a chair so he can suck me off. As soon as I think it his hands are on my jeans, cupping my dick through the fabric and pressing down until I let out a groan that sounds a lot needier than I meant it to. I'm glad suddenly that the dorm's still mostly empty, because I'm not sure if I can remember to be quiet and remember not to tear through the silk at the same time. Most of the rest of the kids won't be back until after New Year's; we wouldn't be back already either if I wasn't worried about his mom walking into the lair and finding me wolfed out, but now I'm glad we decided to wait out the full moon in the dorm.
"Relax," he says again, and I realize for the first time that my whole body's tense. I take a deep breath and force myself to relax back into the chair, my eyes glued to him while he slides my zipper down and pulls my jeans open.
This is even more intense than the first time I crawled into bed with him; in a way it feels like the first time all over again, because I'm totally at his mercy and I can tell he's enjoying it. Well, physically it would be pretty easy for me to take control of the situation, but I like letting him lead. Besides, he's a lot more confident about this than I am, and as long as he's got the emotional upper hand I might as well be a nervous virgin.
His hand feels familiar when he slides it under the waistband of my boxers and wraps his fingers around my dick, easing me past the top of my boxers and running his thumb across the tip. I let out a gasp and arch into the touch, the strain of silk against my wrists reminding me why I'm still sitting in a chair instead of standing in front of him with my fingers buried in his hair to coax him just a little faster. This time he gets to set the pace, torture me if he wants or just see how fast he can make me come. I have no idea what he has in mind, but in a way not knowing makes me want it even more.
"Jesus," I murmur when I feel the first swipe of hot tongue against the head of my cock, and I hear a low chuckle as he finally takes me into his mouth. All that wet heat surrounding me makes me forget for a second what I was so worried about when we started this, but as soon as I try to move the scarves tighten on my wrists again. And that's something else he was right about, because I can feel how easy it would be to rip through them, but the pressure on my wrists reminds me of why I don't want to.
At first I'm pretty sure he's planning on torturing me, taking his time and making me beg for it before he finally lets me come. His mouth's moving on me in slow motion, like he's trying to memorize everything about the way my dick feels against his tongue. "Merton, please," I moan, and when he laughs again I feel the vibration all the way to the top of my spine.
It does the trick, though, because as soon as I ask he starts moving faster. One hand's gripping the base of my dick, his fingers teasing my balls while his other hand strokes through the thick hair covering my stomach. And I didn't really expect him to want to touch me while I'm wolfed out; I guess part of the reason I've never wanted to try this before is because I was always worried that he'd be grossed out by the whole wolf thing, but I should have known better. It's Merton, after all, and he's never been anything but fascinated with the changes in me when I wolf out.
My orgasm takes me by surprise, my body tensing and the scarves holding my wrists down tightening just enough to be a little uncomfortable. I barely notice, though, because I'm too caught up in the wave of pleasure making my whole body shake. When I finally stop shaking he lifts his head and grins at me, leaning up to press his lips against mine. I open my mouth automatically, sucking his tongue into my mouth to taste myself on him. He groans against my mouth and shifts closer, and I can feel the heat of his hardness pressed against my leg.
He thrusts mindlessly against me and I feel a fresh wave of desire shoot through me, making my spent cock twitch a little painfully against my stomach. "Merton," I say when I tear my mouth away from his, trying to reach up to touch him before I remember that my wrists are still tied to the chair, "fuck me."
"I don't know if we should," he says, but his eyes are already glazed over and I can tell he wants to.
"We should," I answer, impatience making me struggle a little against the scarves. "Tie me to the bed. I want you to."
That does it, and I have to struggle not to laugh when he reaches out with shaking fingers and fumbles with the knots he tied. All that moving around made them a lot tighter than they were when he tied them, but he finally gets the first one loose and starts working on the second one. It takes everything in me not to reach for him with my free hand, but I'm not sure yet if I can control myself and I know I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever hurt him. Instead of touching him I focus on the sound of my own heart beating, counting heartbeats while I wait for him to undo the second scarf.
Finally he stands up, looking a little uncertain for the first time all night while he watches me pull my clothes off. Usually when I'm wolfed out I don't even try this; I still haven't gotten a handle on the claws thing, and whenever I try to take off my own clothes while I'm wolfed out I always end up shredding something. This time I don't even care, though, I just want to get them off as fast as possible. I'm not sure if any of it's even salvageable by the time I'm naked, but when I look over at him again I forget all about my clothes.
"Merton? What's the matter?"
He's staring at me like he's never seen me before, and when I look down at myself I remember why. I can't really blame him; I mean it was a shock the first time I looked at myself like this, and this is the first time he's seen me totally exposed. He's seen me wolf out a thousand times, but he's never seen…well, this much of me while I'm wolfed out. "Jesus, I didn't even…I'm sorry, Merton. We don't have to…I just thought you wanted…"
And I know I'm babbling, but I can't make myself stop talking until he walks toward me and reaches up to stroke his thumb over my bottom lip. "Tommy, relax."
Maybe that's the theme for the night, but it makes me feel better as soon as he says it so I don't think too hard about why he keeps having to tell me to relax. "I just didn't think…I mean I guess I'm used to it, but you don't…"
"Tommy," he says again, only he's smiling now and I get the feeling he's trying not to laugh at me. "I love all of you, Tommy. Even when you're on testosterone overload I'm crazy about you. I've just never seen you like this before, that's all. I mean I've thought about it and I've imagined what you looked like under your clothes when you were wolfed out, but fantasy never lives up to reality."
I can't help smiling at that, because he always knows just what to say to make me feel better, and…wait. Fantasy? "Fantasy? So you've…?"
"Yeah, Tommy. We've been over this before, remember? I mean haven't you ever wondered what it would be like, if it would be any different when you were in wolf form? I didn't exactly get a chance to see for myself when I was a werewolf, but I remember how intense everything felt when I was wolfed out. It's probably the same for sex, right?"
"I don't know. I mean I guess I've never really thought about it," I answer. I can tell by his expression that he knows I'm lying, and I have a feeling I haven't heard the last of it even though he lets it go for now.
"Well let's find out," he says, and I grin again when he puts his hand on my chest and pushes me toward my bed. I stretch out on the mattress and watch while he pulls his own clothes off, dropping them on the floor before he crawls over me and takes hold of my wrists again. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," I answer, the single word coming out in a low growl that makes him shudder. He grabs my wrists and holds them together as he loops one of the scarves around the metal bar at the center of the headboard, tying my wrists together and pulling the knot a little tighter than he did the first time. I don't care if he pulls it so tight he cuts off my circulation, because I'm half-hard again just from the mental image of what this must look like and all I really want is for him to hurry up. "Merton, hurry."
He grins and murmurs something about patience against my ear, but I don't really catch the words because I'm too busy trying not to pull my hands free and show him exactly what I mean by 'hurry'. He seems to get the message anyway, though, because he pushes himself onto his knees again and reaches for the lube. I watch while he coats his dick with lube, my own cock twitching when he groans and clenches his teeth against the sensation of his hand moving on his erection. Part of me wishes he'd just keep doing that for awhile; there's something about lying there completely helpless while he gets himself off, but there's another, louder part of me that wants him in me as soon as possible.
I open my mouth to tell him that, but before I get the words out he's leaning over me again, his mouth crushing mine and his hand gripping my hip as he pushes my legs further apart. I pull my knees up to make it easier for him, arching against the mattress when I feel him slide inside me. When he's all the way in he pauses, pulling back to look down at me. His expression's one I've never seen before - this weird mixture of lust and affection and possessiveness that makes my whole body shudder underneath him. I can tell he feels the sensation in his dick when he moans and pulls out of me, his hands braced against my thighs as he slams back into me again.
Normally by now my hands would be on him, on his hips to pull him further inside me with each thrust, or maybe on his arms so I could feel the flex of muscle under my palms. Not being able to touch him makes me focus even more than usual on the feeling of his hands on me and his cock buried inside me, the way his body warms mine and the sound of his voice whenever he moans my name. I'm not sure if I've ever noticed half this stuff, and when his hand closes around my dick again and strokes me back to hardness I'm positive I'm never going to survive the intensity.
My whole body feels like it's on fire, like every spot on me he touches starts the burn all over again. And I guess this is what he meant by wolfing out making it more intense, but I have a feeling that part of it's the fact that I can't move my hands. I can tell he's close already, and when I clench my muscles around him and pull him even deeper inside me his hand closes even harder around my dick. Even that pressure feels good, though, and I groan and arch up against him when he pulls out of me again. I clamp down on his cock again on the next thrust, and again until he's breathing hard and slamming a little more wildly into me with each stroke.
I don't know how long it takes before he finally loses control, but by the time he tenses and comes inside me I'm almost sure I'm about to lose my mind. My skin feels alive, like it's vibrating over my bones and sending jolt after jolt of electric pleasure through my whole body. I'm not sure if I'm breathing anymore or even if my hands are still bound, because I can't feel anything beyond the pleasure singing its way along my skin to pool at the pit of my stomach.
When Merton finally comes down from his orgasm his hand tightens around my dick again, and I let out a growl at the almost-pain and thrust against him. He starts stroking harder, shifting against me so he can kiss me without breaking the rhythm his hand and my hips have settled into. And even my teeth feel more sensitive than usual, another jolt of lust hitting me when I feel his tongue run along the bottom of my teeth. It's hard to remember to be careful not to let them sink through his lip, but the memory of what happened the last time I bit him is enough to keep me from doing it again.
There have been a lot of times over the past year or so when I've wondered if Merton could read my mind, and when he pulls his mouth off mine and looks down at me I wonder all over again. It's almost like he can sense when I'm too close to the edge to trust my own control, and he pulls himself back so I don't have to worry about trying not to hurt him. As soon as his mouth leaves mine his hand speeds up again, his thumb teasing the slick head of my dick until I let go with a final moan that sounds a lot more like a howl than I want to think about.
Wet heat hits my stomach and I know my fur's gonna be a huge mess, but I can't make myself care when I look up at Merton again and find him grinning at me. I feel myself smile in spite of the fact that I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to move off the bed again, not that I really have a problem with the idea of staying right where we are for the rest of our lives. He leans forward and drops a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth, pulling away before I can do anything about it. I twist far enough to watch while he works the scarf loose and pulls my hands free of the headboard, his smile fading as he rubs at my wrists.
"I think you're gonna have bruises," he says, his voice laced with regret. I can't have him feeling bad about tonight for any reason, though, so I pull my wrists out of his grip and lean up to nuzzle at his neck.
"Only because I kept forgetting not to struggle," I tell him, punctuating the words with a kiss against his chin. "Next time I'll remember to relax and let you lead."
"Next time? Maybe we shouldn't…" he says, but I cut him off with a kiss before he can say the rest.
"We should, Merton," I tell him when I finally release him. "I'm fine, I promise. You know how you said I couldn't hurt you? Well there's no way you could hurt me either."
He reaches for my hands again and holds my wrists up, frowning at them for a second before he presses a kiss to each of the red marks. I look down and see that he's right; the marks are already starting to darken at the center, and by tomorrow I'll have two matching strips on the insides of my wrists. They don't hurt, though, and even if they did there's no way I'd let him think it was his fault just for coming up with the idea.
"Merton," I say, careful not to press too hard when I reach for him and run a hand down his hip. "You got any more of those scarves?"
"Why?" he asks, suspicion chasing the uncertainty out of his eyes.
I grin when he narrows his eyes at me and settle a little closer to him on the mattress. "Because they'd make pretty good blindfolds."
Fandom: BWOC
Pairing: Tommy/Merton
Rating: NC17
"This sucks."
He rolls his eyes and I know it's because it's not the first time I've said that tonight. I can't help it, though; I hate being trapped in our dorm room on New Year's Eve when the rest of the world is out having a great time. Not that I mind being alone with Merton, but I feel bad that he's stuck here with me just because the full moon happened to fall on New Year's this year.
"Come on, Tommy, it's not that bad. So we don't go to some loud party with a bunch of people we don't know. It's not like we're missing anything."
I know he means it, but hearing him say it just makes me feel even more guilty. "You don't have to stay here just because of me, Merton. You could go to some loud party without me, you know."
And okay, I didn't mean to sound like I'm feeling sorry for myself, but it's hard for me to hide anything from him. Before he knew for sure how I felt it wasn't quite as hard to keep him in the dark about stuff, but now I don't have a prayer and we both know it.
"We've spent every full moon together since you got bit," he reminds me in that low voice that lets me know I should know better than to say dumb stuff like that to him. The worst part is that I do know better, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating.
"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just…this sucks, you know? We can't even do anything." I'm too busy looking down at the extra hair covering my hands to notice him moving, but when he drops to his knees in front of me I look up again. "What are you doing?"
"What's it look like?" he asks, reaching into his pocket with one hand while he reaches up with the other and grabs one of my wrists. "There's no rule that says we just have to sit here and stare at each other all night, you know."
"Merton, no. It's too dangerous, what happens if I accidentally hurt you?"
"First of all, I know you'd never hurt me, Tommy." He says it with such confidence that I can tell he really means it, and even though I'm nowhere near as sure as he is I have to admit it's kind of a turn-on. I mean just the fact that he still wants me even when I'm in freak mode…if I hadn't already decided I was never letting him out of my life this would have done it for me.
He finally holds up what he pulled out of his pocket, and I frown when I realize it's some kind of scarf. "You worry way too much," he tells me as he pushes my wrist down onto the arm of the chair and loops the scarf around it. "But if this will make you feel better, you can think of it as a late Christmas present."
"You already gave me a…" As soon as I realize what he's getting at I stop talking, feeling stupid and scared and turned on all at once as I watch him tie my wrist to the chair. I open my mouth to say something else, but my voice gets caught in my throat and I have to cough and shift in the chair before I can get the words out. "Merton, I can rip right through this."
"I know." He looks up and gives me a smile like he knew I was going to say that; maybe he did, because he knows me better than anybody and considering he's had a couple silk scarves stuck in his pockets all day it's pretty obvious he's given this some thought.
"So it's still not a good idea." My voice sounds lower than usual and I know it's because I'm already half-hard just at the thought of what he wants to do, and I'm not really sure why I'm trying to talk him out of it. I have to try, though, because there's no way I could live with myself if I did anything to hurt him.
"Tommy, relax," he says, dropping the second scarf on my knee for a minute while he leans closer to me and runs his fingers across my cheek. Even that touch makes me shiver with anticipation, and I know there's no way I'm going to be able to stop if he's determined to try this. "It's not like you suddenly turn mean when you wolf out. It's still you, the person I'd trust with my life. These aren't to stop you from getting loose. It's just a reminder, so when you feel the scarves holding your wrists to the chair you'll remember why you're not touching right now."
Leave it to Merton to make sense even when he's trying out a new kink. I know he means everything he just said, but judging by the way he's looking at me and the way he's fingering the scarf that's already tied around my wrist I can tell he's getting off on the idea of tying me up. He's encouraged my thing for silk more than anybody else probably would have, though, and if this is what turns him on I'm more than happy to go along with it.
Not that I've got a lot of choice, because he's already tying my second wrist to the chair. The silk feels good against my wrists, and I flex my hands experimentally to make sure he's got them tight enough to stop me from doing any damage before I even notice I've moved. When I look up again he's sitting back on his heels watching me, and my heart skips a beat when I catch the look in his eyes. "Okay?"
"Yeah," I manage to choke out, my voice even huskier than it was a few minutes ago. It probably never would have dawned on me to try something like this, but now all I can think about is the fact that we should have tried it months ago. It's the first time we've ever done anything while I'm in wolf mode; he's hinted around about it once or twice, but I've always been too scared to try it until now.
And it just figures that he's the one that thought up a way to make me feel safe about this, even if it's just tying me to a chair so he can suck me off. As soon as I think it his hands are on my jeans, cupping my dick through the fabric and pressing down until I let out a groan that sounds a lot needier than I meant it to. I'm glad suddenly that the dorm's still mostly empty, because I'm not sure if I can remember to be quiet and remember not to tear through the silk at the same time. Most of the rest of the kids won't be back until after New Year's; we wouldn't be back already either if I wasn't worried about his mom walking into the lair and finding me wolfed out, but now I'm glad we decided to wait out the full moon in the dorm.
"Relax," he says again, and I realize for the first time that my whole body's tense. I take a deep breath and force myself to relax back into the chair, my eyes glued to him while he slides my zipper down and pulls my jeans open.
This is even more intense than the first time I crawled into bed with him; in a way it feels like the first time all over again, because I'm totally at his mercy and I can tell he's enjoying it. Well, physically it would be pretty easy for me to take control of the situation, but I like letting him lead. Besides, he's a lot more confident about this than I am, and as long as he's got the emotional upper hand I might as well be a nervous virgin.
His hand feels familiar when he slides it under the waistband of my boxers and wraps his fingers around my dick, easing me past the top of my boxers and running his thumb across the tip. I let out a gasp and arch into the touch, the strain of silk against my wrists reminding me why I'm still sitting in a chair instead of standing in front of him with my fingers buried in his hair to coax him just a little faster. This time he gets to set the pace, torture me if he wants or just see how fast he can make me come. I have no idea what he has in mind, but in a way not knowing makes me want it even more.
"Jesus," I murmur when I feel the first swipe of hot tongue against the head of my cock, and I hear a low chuckle as he finally takes me into his mouth. All that wet heat surrounding me makes me forget for a second what I was so worried about when we started this, but as soon as I try to move the scarves tighten on my wrists again. And that's something else he was right about, because I can feel how easy it would be to rip through them, but the pressure on my wrists reminds me of why I don't want to.
At first I'm pretty sure he's planning on torturing me, taking his time and making me beg for it before he finally lets me come. His mouth's moving on me in slow motion, like he's trying to memorize everything about the way my dick feels against his tongue. "Merton, please," I moan, and when he laughs again I feel the vibration all the way to the top of my spine.
It does the trick, though, because as soon as I ask he starts moving faster. One hand's gripping the base of my dick, his fingers teasing my balls while his other hand strokes through the thick hair covering my stomach. And I didn't really expect him to want to touch me while I'm wolfed out; I guess part of the reason I've never wanted to try this before is because I was always worried that he'd be grossed out by the whole wolf thing, but I should have known better. It's Merton, after all, and he's never been anything but fascinated with the changes in me when I wolf out.
My orgasm takes me by surprise, my body tensing and the scarves holding my wrists down tightening just enough to be a little uncomfortable. I barely notice, though, because I'm too caught up in the wave of pleasure making my whole body shake. When I finally stop shaking he lifts his head and grins at me, leaning up to press his lips against mine. I open my mouth automatically, sucking his tongue into my mouth to taste myself on him. He groans against my mouth and shifts closer, and I can feel the heat of his hardness pressed against my leg.
He thrusts mindlessly against me and I feel a fresh wave of desire shoot through me, making my spent cock twitch a little painfully against my stomach. "Merton," I say when I tear my mouth away from his, trying to reach up to touch him before I remember that my wrists are still tied to the chair, "fuck me."
"I don't know if we should," he says, but his eyes are already glazed over and I can tell he wants to.
"We should," I answer, impatience making me struggle a little against the scarves. "Tie me to the bed. I want you to."
That does it, and I have to struggle not to laugh when he reaches out with shaking fingers and fumbles with the knots he tied. All that moving around made them a lot tighter than they were when he tied them, but he finally gets the first one loose and starts working on the second one. It takes everything in me not to reach for him with my free hand, but I'm not sure yet if I can control myself and I know I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever hurt him. Instead of touching him I focus on the sound of my own heart beating, counting heartbeats while I wait for him to undo the second scarf.
Finally he stands up, looking a little uncertain for the first time all night while he watches me pull my clothes off. Usually when I'm wolfed out I don't even try this; I still haven't gotten a handle on the claws thing, and whenever I try to take off my own clothes while I'm wolfed out I always end up shredding something. This time I don't even care, though, I just want to get them off as fast as possible. I'm not sure if any of it's even salvageable by the time I'm naked, but when I look over at him again I forget all about my clothes.
"Merton? What's the matter?"
He's staring at me like he's never seen me before, and when I look down at myself I remember why. I can't really blame him; I mean it was a shock the first time I looked at myself like this, and this is the first time he's seen me totally exposed. He's seen me wolf out a thousand times, but he's never seen…well, this much of me while I'm wolfed out. "Jesus, I didn't even…I'm sorry, Merton. We don't have to…I just thought you wanted…"
And I know I'm babbling, but I can't make myself stop talking until he walks toward me and reaches up to stroke his thumb over my bottom lip. "Tommy, relax."
Maybe that's the theme for the night, but it makes me feel better as soon as he says it so I don't think too hard about why he keeps having to tell me to relax. "I just didn't think…I mean I guess I'm used to it, but you don't…"
"Tommy," he says again, only he's smiling now and I get the feeling he's trying not to laugh at me. "I love all of you, Tommy. Even when you're on testosterone overload I'm crazy about you. I've just never seen you like this before, that's all. I mean I've thought about it and I've imagined what you looked like under your clothes when you were wolfed out, but fantasy never lives up to reality."
I can't help smiling at that, because he always knows just what to say to make me feel better, and…wait. Fantasy? "Fantasy? So you've…?"
"Yeah, Tommy. We've been over this before, remember? I mean haven't you ever wondered what it would be like, if it would be any different when you were in wolf form? I didn't exactly get a chance to see for myself when I was a werewolf, but I remember how intense everything felt when I was wolfed out. It's probably the same for sex, right?"
"I don't know. I mean I guess I've never really thought about it," I answer. I can tell by his expression that he knows I'm lying, and I have a feeling I haven't heard the last of it even though he lets it go for now.
"Well let's find out," he says, and I grin again when he puts his hand on my chest and pushes me toward my bed. I stretch out on the mattress and watch while he pulls his own clothes off, dropping them on the floor before he crawls over me and takes hold of my wrists again. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," I answer, the single word coming out in a low growl that makes him shudder. He grabs my wrists and holds them together as he loops one of the scarves around the metal bar at the center of the headboard, tying my wrists together and pulling the knot a little tighter than he did the first time. I don't care if he pulls it so tight he cuts off my circulation, because I'm half-hard again just from the mental image of what this must look like and all I really want is for him to hurry up. "Merton, hurry."
He grins and murmurs something about patience against my ear, but I don't really catch the words because I'm too busy trying not to pull my hands free and show him exactly what I mean by 'hurry'. He seems to get the message anyway, though, because he pushes himself onto his knees again and reaches for the lube. I watch while he coats his dick with lube, my own cock twitching when he groans and clenches his teeth against the sensation of his hand moving on his erection. Part of me wishes he'd just keep doing that for awhile; there's something about lying there completely helpless while he gets himself off, but there's another, louder part of me that wants him in me as soon as possible.
I open my mouth to tell him that, but before I get the words out he's leaning over me again, his mouth crushing mine and his hand gripping my hip as he pushes my legs further apart. I pull my knees up to make it easier for him, arching against the mattress when I feel him slide inside me. When he's all the way in he pauses, pulling back to look down at me. His expression's one I've never seen before - this weird mixture of lust and affection and possessiveness that makes my whole body shudder underneath him. I can tell he feels the sensation in his dick when he moans and pulls out of me, his hands braced against my thighs as he slams back into me again.
Normally by now my hands would be on him, on his hips to pull him further inside me with each thrust, or maybe on his arms so I could feel the flex of muscle under my palms. Not being able to touch him makes me focus even more than usual on the feeling of his hands on me and his cock buried inside me, the way his body warms mine and the sound of his voice whenever he moans my name. I'm not sure if I've ever noticed half this stuff, and when his hand closes around my dick again and strokes me back to hardness I'm positive I'm never going to survive the intensity.
My whole body feels like it's on fire, like every spot on me he touches starts the burn all over again. And I guess this is what he meant by wolfing out making it more intense, but I have a feeling that part of it's the fact that I can't move my hands. I can tell he's close already, and when I clench my muscles around him and pull him even deeper inside me his hand closes even harder around my dick. Even that pressure feels good, though, and I groan and arch up against him when he pulls out of me again. I clamp down on his cock again on the next thrust, and again until he's breathing hard and slamming a little more wildly into me with each stroke.
I don't know how long it takes before he finally loses control, but by the time he tenses and comes inside me I'm almost sure I'm about to lose my mind. My skin feels alive, like it's vibrating over my bones and sending jolt after jolt of electric pleasure through my whole body. I'm not sure if I'm breathing anymore or even if my hands are still bound, because I can't feel anything beyond the pleasure singing its way along my skin to pool at the pit of my stomach.
When Merton finally comes down from his orgasm his hand tightens around my dick again, and I let out a growl at the almost-pain and thrust against him. He starts stroking harder, shifting against me so he can kiss me without breaking the rhythm his hand and my hips have settled into. And even my teeth feel more sensitive than usual, another jolt of lust hitting me when I feel his tongue run along the bottom of my teeth. It's hard to remember to be careful not to let them sink through his lip, but the memory of what happened the last time I bit him is enough to keep me from doing it again.
There have been a lot of times over the past year or so when I've wondered if Merton could read my mind, and when he pulls his mouth off mine and looks down at me I wonder all over again. It's almost like he can sense when I'm too close to the edge to trust my own control, and he pulls himself back so I don't have to worry about trying not to hurt him. As soon as his mouth leaves mine his hand speeds up again, his thumb teasing the slick head of my dick until I let go with a final moan that sounds a lot more like a howl than I want to think about.
Wet heat hits my stomach and I know my fur's gonna be a huge mess, but I can't make myself care when I look up at Merton again and find him grinning at me. I feel myself smile in spite of the fact that I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to move off the bed again, not that I really have a problem with the idea of staying right where we are for the rest of our lives. He leans forward and drops a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth, pulling away before I can do anything about it. I twist far enough to watch while he works the scarf loose and pulls my hands free of the headboard, his smile fading as he rubs at my wrists.
"I think you're gonna have bruises," he says, his voice laced with regret. I can't have him feeling bad about tonight for any reason, though, so I pull my wrists out of his grip and lean up to nuzzle at his neck.
"Only because I kept forgetting not to struggle," I tell him, punctuating the words with a kiss against his chin. "Next time I'll remember to relax and let you lead."
"Next time? Maybe we shouldn't…" he says, but I cut him off with a kiss before he can say the rest.
"We should, Merton," I tell him when I finally release him. "I'm fine, I promise. You know how you said I couldn't hurt you? Well there's no way you could hurt me either."
He reaches for my hands again and holds my wrists up, frowning at them for a second before he presses a kiss to each of the red marks. I look down and see that he's right; the marks are already starting to darken at the center, and by tomorrow I'll have two matching strips on the insides of my wrists. They don't hurt, though, and even if they did there's no way I'd let him think it was his fault just for coming up with the idea.
"Merton," I say, careful not to press too hard when I reach for him and run a hand down his hip. "You got any more of those scarves?"
"Why?" he asks, suspicion chasing the uncertainty out of his eyes.
I grin when he narrows his eyes at me and settle a little closer to him on the mattress. "Because they'd make pretty good blindfolds."