[It is impossible to avoid the small quirk of amusement in his lips when Anduin wrists his arms over his head. He allows it -- because, before too long, he won't be capable of it. Best to let him have it while it is available, seeing as it does not interfere with what he is doing.
He adjusts the placement of the rope and frowns a bit to himself as he glances down between what little space is available. And, ever the perfectionist, he decides that he does not like what he's begun.]
That won't do...
[He undoes the loop, but makes no attempt to remove himself from Anduin's imposed embrace, despite the fact that he has now begun to busy himself with refitting the bight in his hands. A moment later, he loops it around the other man's neck, and begins the process of tying four looped knots down the front of his chest.
He pauses when he reaches the bottom-most loop, a fifth knot that remains momentarily loose. Wrathion's eyes drift upwards to Anduin's just for a moment as he brings warm hands to his cock, gentle in how he maneuvers and threads him through the last knot he's made until it tucks underneath his balls.
He holds there for a few seconds, letting it sit between them until Wrathion breaks that unspoken barrier between them to press their lips together. It is an oddly romantic gesture, for him. But he cannot finish tying, in this position, and so it only lasts for a moment before he lowers himself to his knees and out from under Anduin's arm's to continue. With some patience, he will finish the knot there.]
[ Of course it has to be perfect. Wrathion would accept nothing less of himself, and Anduin doesn't tease as he undoes the work he needs to in order to proceed with the new pattern, a diamond shape that clings to his chest and stomach. When the ropes are tugged lower, there's a brief catch in his throat, but nothing more than that.
At least not until Wrathion's lips are against his.
For a moment, it feels like it might be the chink in the dam that breaks the whole structure, like it would be easy just to sink into him and let that be that. It takes all he has to hold still, with the reminding pressure of the ropes currently binding him to remind him that this is an allowance. One of the few he'll recieve.
He still returns that kiss as much as he's able to, before Wrathion ducks down out of reach to finish securing that last knot. Anduin swallows quietly, throat bobbing as that knot settles into place just beneath his balls, the pressure earning a rather singular sensation that has him stirring despite himself. He wasn't expecting the simple act of being tied up to accomplish that much, but here he is, pleasantly surprised.
The blond's teeth sink into his lower lip as he tries to remain still as possible, otherwise. ]
[Wrathion stays there longer than strictly necessary, distracted by the memory of the last time the pair of them were naked in the presence of one another. Anduin had sunk to his knees for him then, and he remembered quite vividly what he had done for him in the moments after -- it still came to him some nights unbidden, in the few dreams he still had. He did not imagine he would forget the sight or sensation very soon.
Once the knot is tied to his satisfaction, the dragon rises, pulling the remaining rope backwards and up between his cheeks. It is a small tug that serves to pull and finish all the knots he had just made.
And though Anduin cannot see his face, the pleasure is palpable in his voice when he speaks:]
Comfortable?
[So long as he does not protest with the given word, Wrathion continues, pulling out the diamonds he'd formed and threading the last of the rope though them in an effort to complete his handiwork.]
[ A small sound plucks free at that final tug, everything snug in place, apparently just as Wrathion wished. He clears his throat after with an attempted glance back at the dragon. ]
I'm not sure if that's the word I would use.
[ Even as he continues to thread the extra rope through, stretching the diamond-pattern in front, the pressure from the lack of slack increases. Each tug in one place resonates through the rest, and he cannot help but be acutely aware of that last knot most of all.
Thankfully, it's now relatively impossible to focus on literally anything else. ]
[Somewhere in the midst of all of his work, Wrathion's chin had come to rest on the other man's shoulder. He could do this part with his eyes closed if he wanted, but being this close allows for him to embrace the young king in his arms with each new pass of rope across the front of his body.
The last of it comes to secure around the bight at the back of his neck, leaving a perfect closed loop for the harness. He knows by now that blood will be flowing elsewhere more rapidly, and less to the hands he has bounded.
As such, he gently rests a hand upon Anduin's shoulder, applying pressure in a wordless request for him to lower himself to the bed.]
Just a few more.
[Though, in truth, he is not entirely certain he is going to get that far. It was impossible for him to anticipate the way adrenaline races through him with each careful tug of rope. He'd been warned by his research, of course -- but reading and feeling were quite different.
He is so easily distracted by the contrast of red on Anduin's pale and scarred skin that he finds himself tracing patterns with his eyes while he gathers another fistful of rope with the intention of applying it to his forearms.]
[ It's strange. The tighter his bonds become, the more he feels as though he can relax, as if the tension is being made up for elsewhere and is no longer strictly needed to keep going. The sensation only grows stronger as Wrathion presses in at his back, the warmth of his skin almost startling against his own for how long he's been standing here untouched otherwise.
Anduin sighs at the contact, head bowing slightly, the loose fringe of blond that frames his face falling gently over his eyes, but it doesn't matter. All he wants is to feel this, strange and unfamiliar but welcome all the same. When nudged to sit, he does so without hesitation, though the way the rope moves as he does is interesting all its own.
He's careful in how he settles himself down on the edge, before looking up questioningly. It can't be his imagination, the heat he's seeing in Wrathion's normally inscrutable expression.
Tongue darting briefly over his lips, he shakes his head. ]
...no, that's alright. I'd rather see once you're finished.
[He joins him upon the bed, crawling around until he is flush behind him again. Whatever barriers had previously existed that kept him from engaging quite so intimately in the past have fallen away -- Wrathion remains flush against the other man's back, humming some abstract tune as he continues to tie the gauntlet ladder up his forearms. Of course, he could have done this in the position they were previously in.
But presently, this is preferable, even as his lips occasionally fall to the crown of his head, or the shell of his ear.
When the gauntlet is complete, he leans back just enough to loosen the chest harness some at the junction near the back of his neck, noting that the tightness nearly prevents him from sliding his fingers beneath it to explore the slightly chaffed skin.]
[ It's such a marked change, Anduin almost laughs. They've been together a handful of times since he'd arrived in the city, but affection had always been something Wrathion seemed uncomfortable with, or barely tolerant of, eager to be done with. A far cry from the warm support at his back, or the almost idle brush of his lips.
If he'd only known this was all it took. ]
Perhaps we should have done this sooner.
[ He can't help the soft and somewhat incredulous smile that passes over his lips as he lists into the touch, the rest of the tension in his body unraveling as the ropes pull tighter. He doesn't care if it's too tight, if it rubs his skin a little red and raw in places. Discomfort is an old friend by now, and this feels good and right in ways he couldn't have possibly thought of before now.
Perhaps this is freeing for the both of them, in some way. ]
[Wrathion doesn't offer a reply to the comment immediately, instead choosing to rest his chin upon the other man's shoulder while his hands snake around to join Anduin under the knots he had just finished tying. The tightness at which they were tied doesn't quite offer him the ability to get his arms through the loops all the way, but they are wide enough to allow him to hold. He stays there in silence for a long moment, despite the fact that the other man would likely be able to feel his heart hammering against his spine.]
I was not ready.
[It is a quiet admission, in a tone that suggests he still isn't certain that he is doing the correct thing by engaging with this. But there is no room to question that he enjoys it as he tips his head forward to rest his face against the crook of his neck.]
[ There's no question. If he didn't want this or enjoy this, he wouldn't have offered. They wouldn't be this deep into it. As uncertain as he may still feel, he was willing to try, and Anduin can't help but be glad for that fact. Admittedly it's an odd thing to feel gratitude for.
But they'd never done anything by conventional means, had they?
There's a reassuring tilt of his head, bumping against Wrathion's with a tickling sweep of soft blond hair, and as much as he can move his fingers to run against the dragon's fingers, he does. ]
[The bump of his head encourages him to lift his eyes again, staring down the hallway in quiet contemplation as he feels his body begin to warm Anduin's to a level that may, perhaps, discomfort the human. He unwinds just enough to allow his skin to breath, cheek still pressed against the other man's head.
There are things he still wants to say. Things he is still figuring out exactly how to say.
As a result, the withdrawing of his hands from the rope is slower and more deliberate.]
[ The heat has him feeling a little drowsy, as the hot springs in Pandaria once did. The loss of it is immediately felt, but he doesn't try to pursue, instead nodding in answer to the question with another slow wriggle of his fingers. ]
If you're finished.
[ Whatever dwells in Wrathion's mind will come in time, or it won't. He's accepted that by now, patient to the last, but it's an unspoken relief to see even this much from him, to feel that sense of want and affection from him to remind him that this is still very much evenly felt between them. ]
[As if to confirm, Wrathion pushes himself up on his knees and moves around him, hooking his fingers into the harness to pull Anduin upright so that he does not have to struggle for balance without the use of his arms. Leading from there to the full length mirror in the corner of the room is easy -- though spotting his image within might be a little challenging in the low light.
A snap of his fingers lights a small spark, enough to illuminate the pair of them -- Anduin in the foreground, and Wrathion himself behind. The sight encourages Wrathion to rest his head back down upon him, though his free hand remains hooked in the ropework at the king's back.
It was a simple thing -- it could get more complex. He'd seen as much. But that was some of the beauty of it. As much as he might have appeared to have planned the entire evening, there was a sense of spontaneity to it.]
If only everyone could be so fortunate as I, to be blessed with such a view.
[ Never overly fond of his own reflection -- the scars bother him, even now -- he still finds it hard to argue.
The initial curiosity had been the ropework, which is of course stunning. But the elegant crisscrossed pattern of crimson rope over his body highlights the curve of hard-earned muscle, the slender jut of his hips, the flat slope of his stomach, and perfectly frame his half-hard cock. He can see when the tension lies with Wrathion's fingers curled into the knots at his back, the faint dig of the rope into his skin.
Though often told how attractive he is by others, this might be the first time he feels it might be true. Wrathion's pleased expression hovering over his shoulder certainly helps, and once his eyes trail back up to meet the dragon's gaze in the mirror he feels his face flush. ]
This was your first?
[ It's flawlessly done, so far as he can tell of such things. ]
[His free hand sips around from the back of the harness to trace the pattern he'd made across his chest, a careful study of his own handiwork.]
It was.
[He has no problem admitting that. Perhaps it was not so surprising -- after all, it was a fairly intimate act. His first attempt at it couldn't be with just anyone.
His eyes drop lower, his smirk stretching just a bit more when he spots that Anduin is, in fact, still aroused. Wrathion's own cock remains out of view, but given that he cannot seem to keep his hands off of him...well.]
[ It's no matter if he can see or not. When Wrathion's eyes stray lower, Anduin leans slightly back into him, and it's no trouble at all to tell exactly what the Black Prince makes of his handiwork. ]
[Anduin's choice to lean back is met with a steady tightening of his grip upon the ropes beneath his fingers. He'd been focused on his task, up until now. Now there is nothing but what he's created, and their shared arousal.]
It could be better. But I suppose practice makes perfect.
[His hands drag backwards, one finger tracing down the other man's spine between the rope until it finds his tailbone. He knows very well what he wants -- but he also knows that this is not about him. More importantly, there was a high chance that he would harm Anduin if he tried anything particularly strenuous while he was still tied.
The sigh behind him is heavy, and he lowers his mouth to press another kiss to his shoulder. And then another upon his neck as he relocates to the front of him, finding a grip on the ropes again to pull him him for a deep kiss.]
[ He can't reach as he wound have, to curl a hand to the back of Wrathion's neck, to pull him in and press in for all he was worth. He thinks to, on instinct, but is quickly reminded of his limits in this position.
He doubts he could pull back out of Wrathion's grip if he wanted to.
Not that he wants to. Despite the initial realization of how compromised he was like this, Anduin still tilts his head, fearlessly seeking the warm press of Wrathion's mouth. He doesn't care, and in fact he can feel himself stirring against the ropes.
For once, it's not up to him, save for that one word. The decision is out of his hands. Exactly as he wished it to be. ]
[Wrathion flicks the spell out of his occupied hand to leave it hovering somewhere nearby so that he might steady the other man with both. Despite the feverish state he seems to be in suddenly, he takes great care in moving his hands over and between the ropes, fingertips grazing whatever patch of skin they happen to find until they settle at his hips.
Slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, vaguely aware of how his own length has begun to grow heavy between his legs. But there would be time for that later. Right now, he's got Anduin precisely where he wants him -- tied, in front of a mirror, with Wrathion himself on his knees and yet somehow still in control of the situation.
There is little pretense this time when he leans in to kiss above the rope near the inside of his right thigh, and his head tilts up just enough to brush against the hands still bound in front of him.]
[ Just enough for his fingers to catch against those dark curls, but not enough to grasp. A tease if anything.
With a deep breath Anduin tears his gaze away from where Wrathion's mouth warms his skin, only to see the exact image in the mirror in front of him. How positively obscene they look together.
How breathtaking.
His eyes dart back almost at once, choosing instead to fix on the glow of Wrathion's eyes as best as he could see, considering the angle. ]
[Wrathion continues his quest, plucking at the rope with his teeth until his tongue finds the underside of Anduin's cock. He is not necessarily surprised to find that he is already half hard -- and part of him wonders how much is due to him being rope drunk, and how much of it is simply a result of the uniquely intimate nature of his choices this evening.
He does not have the frame of mind to think of it for too long just now. Instead, he slowly indulges in sliding his tone straight from base to tip, exhaling the heavy heat that has coiled in his lungs.
On his way up, those glowing red eyes catch his stare -- and he holds it in a most daring way as he works his lips and his tongue back downwards.]
[ There's a noise caught in the next exhale of breath, strained slightly as his fingers curl in towards his palms. It feels like the heat of those burning eyes is swallowing him whole, and there's little he can do but watch as Wrathion makes his desires known. Any attempt at movement expires in a momentary flex of muscle against the cords, before surrendering to their hold once again.
Of course that half-stirring is further encouraged by his work. The dragon's wicked tongue is seemingly all that's needed to get him to grow fully hard, teeth sinking into the edge of his lip to steady himself on his feet. ]
[He will remember the way he squirms in those bindings later, and how quickly he surrenders that control to him. One hand wraps firmly around his own cock, unable to leave it completely unattended in the face of all of this work he's done. Even his normal levels of careful self control will not allow it.
He just. Needs to hold it. It will help his patience.
The sound of his name causes him to rise slightly upward upon his knees, hands drifting from his hips to the small of his back to stabilize his balance. In retrospect, this would have been more practically done on the bed -- but practicality isn't really what is driving him, at the present.
The desire swims in his eyes, which drift shut briefly as he reangles his mouth to take him past his lips, as he had done once before. This time, he has learned how best to mind his teeth, which leaves him to focus instead on a steady and slow rhythm. His tongue remains flat beneath him and his cheeks hollow out with the effort to swallow him down the next time his lips part to accept him.]
[ He's learned. Because of course he has. Had he thought of doing this again? It's a heady thought, that Wrathion might have let his thoughts linger on such a thing when Anduin wasn't there, and when the dragon reaches down to touch himself through the thin fabric of his pants...
Another soft noise catches in his throat, eyes flickering momentarily shut as that incredible warmth draws him in. He's close enough now that he can wind his fingers through his hair at last, but without much room to guide or encourage. Simply to hold, fingertips curling against his scalp with a shivery exhale passing over parted lips.
If this is what he wants? It's his. He could ask for anything right now, surely he knows that. ]
[The sound he coaxes from Anduin is all the encouragement he needs with the adrenaline spike in his blood, but the tied hands reaching to card through his hair certainly offers its own appeal. It is enough to encourage him to experiment with taking more of him, relaxing his lower jaw as much as he is able. A slow descent, until he can feel him approaching the back of his throat.
And he holds there for a long moment, perfectly content with it until the exact moment he isn't, at which point he retreats again. When his mouth comes off of his cock, a string of saliva carries with it, stuck to his pointed canines. All the while, the hand between his own legs continues a much slower stroke -- just enough to take the edge off.
Wrathion's head comes to rest against his inner thigh, one arm still braced to steady him.]
I would like to move to to the bed ... it would be a shame if you were to collapse here when I am through.
[There is a sultry note of calm that has been previously absent during their other sexual escapades -- the certain confidence that comes with being in complete control.]
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He adjusts the placement of the rope and frowns a bit to himself as he glances down between what little space is available. And, ever the perfectionist, he decides that he does not like what he's begun.]
That won't do...
[He undoes the loop, but makes no attempt to remove himself from Anduin's imposed embrace, despite the fact that he has now begun to busy himself with refitting the bight in his hands. A moment later, he loops it around the other man's neck, and begins the process of tying four looped knots down the front of his chest.
He pauses when he reaches the bottom-most loop, a fifth knot that remains momentarily loose. Wrathion's eyes drift upwards to Anduin's just for a moment as he brings warm hands to his cock, gentle in how he maneuvers and threads him through the last knot he's made until it tucks underneath his balls.
He holds there for a few seconds, letting it sit between them until Wrathion breaks that unspoken barrier between them to press their lips together. It is an oddly romantic gesture, for him. But he cannot finish tying, in this position, and so it only lasts for a moment before he lowers himself to his knees and out from under Anduin's arm's to continue. With some patience, he will finish the knot there.]
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At least not until Wrathion's lips are against his.
For a moment, it feels like it might be the chink in the dam that breaks the whole structure, like it would be easy just to sink into him and let that be that. It takes all he has to hold still, with the reminding pressure of the ropes currently binding him to remind him that this is an allowance. One of the few he'll recieve.
He still returns that kiss as much as he's able to, before Wrathion ducks down out of reach to finish securing that last knot. Anduin swallows quietly, throat bobbing as that knot settles into place just beneath his balls, the pressure earning a rather singular sensation that has him stirring despite himself. He wasn't expecting the simple act of being tied up to accomplish that much, but here he is, pleasantly surprised.
The blond's teeth sink into his lower lip as he tries to remain still as possible, otherwise. ]
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Once the knot is tied to his satisfaction, the dragon rises, pulling the remaining rope backwards and up between his cheeks. It is a small tug that serves to pull and finish all the knots he had just made.
And though Anduin cannot see his face, the pleasure is palpable in his voice when he speaks:]
Comfortable?
[So long as he does not protest with the given word, Wrathion continues, pulling out the diamonds he'd formed and threading the last of the rope though them in an effort to complete his handiwork.]
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[ A small sound plucks free at that final tug, everything snug in place, apparently just as Wrathion wished. He clears his throat after with an attempted glance back at the dragon. ]
I'm not sure if that's the word I would use.
[ Even as he continues to thread the extra rope through, stretching the diamond-pattern in front, the pressure from the lack of slack increases. Each tug in one place resonates through the rest, and he cannot help but be acutely aware of that last knot most of all.
Thankfully, it's now relatively impossible to focus on literally anything else. ]
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The last of it comes to secure around the bight at the back of his neck, leaving a perfect closed loop for the harness. He knows by now that blood will be flowing elsewhere more rapidly, and less to the hands he has bounded.
As such, he gently rests a hand upon Anduin's shoulder, applying pressure in a wordless request for him to lower himself to the bed.]
Just a few more.
[Though, in truth, he is not entirely certain he is going to get that far. It was impossible for him to anticipate the way adrenaline races through him with each careful tug of rope. He'd been warned by his research, of course -- but reading and feeling were quite different.
He is so easily distracted by the contrast of red on Anduin's pale and scarred skin that he finds himself tracing patterns with his eyes while he gathers another fistful of rope with the intention of applying it to his forearms.]
Unless you would rather see yourself now.
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Anduin sighs at the contact, head bowing slightly, the loose fringe of blond that frames his face falling gently over his eyes, but it doesn't matter. All he wants is to feel this, strange and unfamiliar but welcome all the same. When nudged to sit, he does so without hesitation, though the way the rope moves as he does is interesting all its own.
He's careful in how he settles himself down on the edge, before looking up questioningly. It can't be his imagination, the heat he's seeing in Wrathion's normally inscrutable expression.
Tongue darting briefly over his lips, he shakes his head. ]
...no, that's alright. I'd rather see once you're finished.
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[He joins him upon the bed, crawling around until he is flush behind him again. Whatever barriers had previously existed that kept him from engaging quite so intimately in the past have fallen away -- Wrathion remains flush against the other man's back, humming some abstract tune as he continues to tie the gauntlet ladder up his forearms. Of course, he could have done this in the position they were previously in.
But presently, this is preferable, even as his lips occasionally fall to the crown of his head, or the shell of his ear.
When the gauntlet is complete, he leans back just enough to loosen the chest harness some at the junction near the back of his neck, noting that the tightness nearly prevents him from sliding his fingers beneath it to explore the slightly chaffed skin.]
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If he'd only known this was all it took. ]
Perhaps we should have done this sooner.
[ He can't help the soft and somewhat incredulous smile that passes over his lips as he lists into the touch, the rest of the tension in his body unraveling as the ropes pull tighter. He doesn't care if it's too tight, if it rubs his skin a little red and raw in places. Discomfort is an old friend by now, and this feels good and right in ways he couldn't have possibly thought of before now.
Perhaps this is freeing for the both of them, in some way. ]
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I was not ready.
[It is a quiet admission, in a tone that suggests he still isn't certain that he is doing the correct thing by engaging with this. But there is no room to question that he enjoys it as he tips his head forward to rest his face against the crook of his neck.]
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But they'd never done anything by conventional means, had they?
There's a reassuring tilt of his head, bumping against Wrathion's with a tickling sweep of soft blond hair, and as much as he can move his fingers to run against the dragon's fingers, he does. ]
I'm here when you are.
[ Whatever form that takes, for them. ]
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[The bump of his head encourages him to lift his eyes again, staring down the hallway in quiet contemplation as he feels his body begin to warm Anduin's to a level that may, perhaps, discomfort the human. He unwinds just enough to allow his skin to breath, cheek still pressed against the other man's head.
There are things he still wants to say. Things he is still figuring out exactly how to say.
As a result, the withdrawing of his hands from the rope is slower and more deliberate.]
Would you like to see?
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If you're finished.
[ Whatever dwells in Wrathion's mind will come in time, or it won't. He's accepted that by now, patient to the last, but it's an unspoken relief to see even this much from him, to feel that sense of want and affection from him to remind him that this is still very much evenly felt between them. ]
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A snap of his fingers lights a small spark, enough to illuminate the pair of them -- Anduin in the foreground, and Wrathion himself behind. The sight encourages Wrathion to rest his head back down upon him, though his free hand remains hooked in the ropework at the king's back.
It was a simple thing -- it could get more complex. He'd seen as much. But that was some of the beauty of it. As much as he might have appeared to have planned the entire evening, there was a sense of spontaneity to it.]
If only everyone could be so fortunate as I, to be blessed with such a view.
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The initial curiosity had been the ropework, which is of course stunning. But the elegant crisscrossed pattern of crimson rope over his body highlights the curve of hard-earned muscle, the slender jut of his hips, the flat slope of his stomach, and perfectly frame his half-hard cock. He can see when the tension lies with Wrathion's fingers curled into the knots at his back, the faint dig of the rope into his skin.
Though often told how attractive he is by others, this might be the first time he feels it might be true. Wrathion's pleased expression hovering over his shoulder certainly helps, and once his eyes trail back up to meet the dragon's gaze in the mirror he feels his face flush. ]
This was your first?
[ It's flawlessly done, so far as he can tell of such things. ]
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It was.
[He has no problem admitting that. Perhaps it was not so surprising -- after all, it was a fairly intimate act. His first attempt at it couldn't be with just anyone.
His eyes drop lower, his smirk stretching just a bit more when he spots that Anduin is, in fact, still aroused. Wrathion's own cock remains out of view, but given that he cannot seem to keep his hands off of him...well.]
It helps to have a cooperative model.
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You're pleased with your work, then?
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It could be better. But I suppose practice makes perfect.
[His hands drag backwards, one finger tracing down the other man's spine between the rope until it finds his tailbone. He knows very well what he wants -- but he also knows that this is not about him. More importantly, there was a high chance that he would harm Anduin if he tried anything particularly strenuous while he was still tied.
The sigh behind him is heavy, and he lowers his mouth to press another kiss to his shoulder. And then another upon his neck as he relocates to the front of him, finding a grip on the ropes again to pull him him for a deep kiss.]
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He doubts he could pull back out of Wrathion's grip if he wanted to.
Not that he wants to. Despite the initial realization of how compromised he was like this, Anduin still tilts his head, fearlessly seeking the warm press of Wrathion's mouth. He doesn't care, and in fact he can feel himself stirring against the ropes.
For once, it's not up to him, save for that one word. The decision is out of his hands. Exactly as he wished it to be. ]
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Slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, vaguely aware of how his own length has begun to grow heavy between his legs. But there would be time for that later. Right now, he's got Anduin precisely where he wants him -- tied, in front of a mirror, with Wrathion himself on his knees and yet somehow still in control of the situation.
There is little pretense this time when he leans in to kiss above the rope near the inside of his right thigh, and his head tilts up just enough to brush against the hands still bound in front of him.]
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With a deep breath Anduin tears his gaze away from where Wrathion's mouth warms his skin, only to see the exact image in the mirror in front of him. How positively obscene they look together.
How breathtaking.
His eyes dart back almost at once, choosing instead to fix on the glow of Wrathion's eyes as best as he could see, considering the angle. ]
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He does not have the frame of mind to think of it for too long just now. Instead, he slowly indulges in sliding his tone straight from base to tip, exhaling the heavy heat that has coiled in his lungs.
On his way up, those glowing red eyes catch his stare -- and he holds it in a most daring way as he works his lips and his tongue back downwards.]
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Of course that half-stirring is further encouraged by his work. The dragon's wicked tongue is seemingly all that's needed to get him to grow fully hard, teeth sinking into the edge of his lip to steady himself on his feet. ]
Wrathion...
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He just. Needs to hold it. It will help his patience.
The sound of his name causes him to rise slightly upward upon his knees, hands drifting from his hips to the small of his back to stabilize his balance. In retrospect, this would have been more practically done on the bed -- but practicality isn't really what is driving him, at the present.
The desire swims in his eyes, which drift shut briefly as he reangles his mouth to take him past his lips, as he had done once before. This time, he has learned how best to mind his teeth, which leaves him to focus instead on a steady and slow rhythm. His tongue remains flat beneath him and his cheeks hollow out with the effort to swallow him down the next time his lips part to accept him.]
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Another soft noise catches in his throat, eyes flickering momentarily shut as that incredible warmth draws him in. He's close enough now that he can wind his fingers through his hair at last, but without much room to guide or encourage. Simply to hold, fingertips curling against his scalp with a shivery exhale passing over parted lips.
If this is what he wants? It's his. He could ask for anything right now, surely he knows that. ]
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And he holds there for a long moment, perfectly content with it until the exact moment he isn't, at which point he retreats again. When his mouth comes off of his cock, a string of saliva carries with it, stuck to his pointed canines. All the while, the hand between his own legs continues a much slower stroke -- just enough to take the edge off.
Wrathion's head comes to rest against his inner thigh, one arm still braced to steady him.]
I would like to move to to the bed ... it would be a shame if you were to collapse here when I am through.
[There is a sultry note of calm that has been previously absent during their other sexual escapades -- the certain confidence that comes with being in complete control.]
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