Alcuin made a small sound that was half moan, half whimper. It felt like his cock hardened almost immediately.
"Please," he whispered. "Yes. That." He tilted his head back against the tree and arched his back, baring his throat and curving his body against Giles'.
That whimper shot right up his spine and took up lodging in the pleasure centers of Giles's brain. His usual edge, his solicitousness was gone -- driven out by weeks of being touch-starved, chaste and all but sore from it.
And oh, that little submission, that bearing of the throat... he took full advantage, pressing himself hard against his lover, bending his head to lick and kiss and find the perfect spot, and then once found mark it with deep, sucking kisses and the occasional scrape of teeth or nip.
His hands slid down to find Alcuin's wrists and draw them up over their heads, finding a low hanging branch and wrapping Alcuins' fingers around it. "Don't let go," he said, with a warning little growl.
Alcuin gripped the branch, the movement stretching his body in an appealing way. There were times in Terre d'Ange where he had been bound with handcuffs or rope, though it had been a great while, as his lovers here did not seem as interested in such sport. Though if asked he might have said that it was not his preferred sexual activity, it had little to do with submission itself and more with the person to whom he was submitting - this was entirely different, and he was willing. More than willing.
He couldn't touch Giles now, and so he simply moved to display his body in as pleasing a manner as possible, curving against him, arching and stretching in an inviting way.
The point wasn't to make it so he couldn't touch Giles. No. The point was to make it very, very easy for Giles to touch him, and his eyes flicked to Alcuins for a bare second before he availed himself. There was nothing but naked lust with an undercoat of affection there; right now he was far too needy to let himself worry or fret about the consequences.
He pressed Alcuin against the tree and into a demanding kiss, nipping at his lips and tongue. His hands quickly and efficiently opened Alcuin's shirt -- pleasantly rough, yes, but not a single button lost.
Alcuin's belt and trousers swiftly found themselves wrest open the same way, and Giles hands slid past the waistband. HIs calloused, warm fingers stroked and teased and fondled everything they could reach. "It has been torture," he broke the kiss just so he could speak in French against Alcuin's skin. "You do not know how many mornings I have wanted to wake you with a kiss. More than a kiss."
Comments 5
"Please," he whispered. "Yes. That." He tilted his head back against the tree and arched his back, baring his throat and curving his body against Giles'.
Reply
And oh, that little submission, that bearing of the throat... he took full advantage, pressing himself hard against his lover, bending his head to lick and kiss and find the perfect spot, and then once found mark it with deep, sucking kisses and the occasional scrape of teeth or nip.
His hands slid down to find Alcuin's wrists and draw them up over their heads, finding a low hanging branch and wrapping Alcuins' fingers around it. "Don't let go," he said, with a warning little growl.
Reply
He couldn't touch Giles now, and so he simply moved to display his body in as pleasing a manner as possible, curving against him, arching and stretching in an inviting way.
Reply
He pressed Alcuin against the tree and into a demanding kiss, nipping at his lips and tongue. His hands quickly and efficiently opened Alcuin's shirt -- pleasantly rough, yes, but not a single button lost.
Alcuin's belt and trousers swiftly found themselves wrest open the same way, and Giles hands slid past the waistband. HIs calloused, warm fingers stroked and teased and fondled everything they could reach. "It has been torture," he broke the kiss just so he could speak in French against Alcuin's skin. "You do not know how many mornings I have wanted to wake you with a kiss. More than a kiss."
Reply
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