Dear OP: this was a lot harder than I expected it would be to write, a hell of a lot harder. It's a bit off-prompt, but I couldn't make it work any other way. Hope it satisifies anyway.
** "Out in the world, you're the man with the power, and the guns, and the knives, aren't you? But not here."
Harry ran one of said knives down my bare chest. It looked small in his outsize hand, but that in no way diminished its sharpness. I lay still in my cuffs, closed my eyes, and felt the blade against my skin.
I was sore. There had been a paddle, and nipple clamps, and a dildo, all wielded with a skill that continually surprised me. Harry took to being a dom with all the zeal I'd expected, and a finesse I had utterly not. But I digress: I was sore, and the feel of the knifeblade against my skin was magnified almost beyond bearing.
Harry was flushed, his scars standing out vividly. "You look good on the other side, Johnny," he said, something wild and nasty and eager simmering under every word.
The knife scraped over my nipple. I bit my lip.
Harry's dark eyes fixed on the motion. "Let me hear," he said.
He lowered the knife and swiped his thumb roughly along the same path. Skin to skin. I moaned for him, and I took pleasure in the filthy sound of my own voice.
Harry pressed the blade against my chest again, swept it in an arc that almost cut. I shuddered.
"Should I mark you?" he said, almost to himself.
It sounded like a good plan. He could make it a ritual. I would give myself to be bound to him and then he would be tied to me in return.
"Please," I said.
Harry groaned and flicked the knife shut. "We'll talk about it later, John, 'kay?" he said, nearly panting. He grabbed for the lube and fumbled it open, slicking himself up. "Hell's bells, I want you," he said, fervent and breathless and yes.
He grabbed my hips and pushed into me clumsily. "Don't come," he said, "not until I tell you."
I melted for him as he fucked me, riding out his rough motions, relishing him in me. It built and built as Harry pounded me, as he shoved my legs further apart and buried himself in me. He took me, and I took him gratefully, head thrown back, heat drowning me, muscles tightening--
A particularly harsh thrust made my eyes pop open. Harry took one glance at me and bit down on my collarbone, and orgasm was abruptly within reach-- which would have been wonderful if I had wanted it.
No. I forced the muscles of my abdomen and thighs to relax, but the moment I diverted my attention in the slightest they wound themselves taut again, forcing me closer, and Harry really wasn't helping by consistently finding my prostate. It was all perilously good.
"I can't--" I finally gasped, overwhelmed. "Harry-- I-- I'm going to--" I couldn't come, not yet, I needed to wait, to be good for Harry--
He was actually speeding up, pushing into me deeper. The friction against my cock kept growing more intense.
"I can't--- please let me, please, god, Harry, fuck--" I babbled, shaking, absolutely impaled on him. He wasn't stopping, why wasn't he stopping, did he want me to break my word?
The next thrust pushed me closer to orgasm than I'd known a person could be and not come. I'd lost track of the sounds I was making; my whole being was the constant litany of not yet not yet not yet and the terrible need pulling me closer and closer.
The next one-- there are honestly no words. I know I shrieked, and I dimly hoped that he knew what was going on, that he'd let me--
"Now," said Harry.
But I was stuck, trembling on the edge, locked up, and it hurt. To my horror I felt my eyes stinging.
"John?" Harry's stupidly large hands ran down my sides, then over my face, bringing me back to myself just enough for me to speak.
"I can't," I managed. Then: "I'm sorry."
He made a wordless crooning noise at me. Then he pulled out-- I made a pathetic noise and yanked at my bonds-- and moved down between my legs.
The first wet touch of his mouth on my dick rendered me voiceless. He slid down over me slowly, hot and sweet and blessedly simple, and there were definitely tears in my eyes now.
He swallowed around me, and there it was, crashing over me, slow at first and then so good, so fucking good that the only sound I could manage was a strangled mewl.
Harry pulled off me and swallowed. "I've got you," he said, petting my stomach, my thighs. I lay panting, wanting his hands to stay on me.
"I've got you," Harry said again. "Oh, John, you're wrecked, aren't you?"
He never sounded this soft, this fond at any other time. Every time it got me the same way.
I smiled faintly. "Just tell me what you want, Harry."
He lay over me like a bony blanket, wrapped me up in his long limbs, and entered me again.
"You're just gonna lie back and think of Chicago," he said, "and I'm gonna take good care of you." Mumbling filthy nothings, he rocked into me slow and steady, sharp teeth worrying at my neck.
When he came in me, it felt nearly as good as my earlier release had. Having him catching his breath, still in me... Christ, I was his and it sang all through me, a sublime contentment.
Harry raised his head, sweaty hair still sticking to his face. His eyes widened as he looked down at me. I wondered what I looked like to him, if he was seeing me through his power.
"Oh," he said, very softly. "John, you're..."
He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he buried his face in my shoulder and held me, his power twining around us both like a faint, electric mist.
Holy SHIT. you... you... holy SHIT. I had to leave for a couple weeks and I had no computer access and I missed the kinkmeme (which autocorrect thinks should be "liniment") SO MUCH and then I got back within cell phone Internet coverage and there was THIS. and the reason I was on that trip? my birthday. so, you pretty much just gave me the best birthday present EVER. much love. so much.
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at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-02-12 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)**
"Out in the world, you're the man with the power, and the guns, and the knives, aren't you? But not here."
Harry ran one of said knives down my bare chest. It looked small in his outsize hand, but that in no way diminished its sharpness. I lay still in my cuffs, closed my eyes, and felt the blade against my skin.
I was sore. There had been a paddle, and nipple clamps, and a dildo, all wielded with a skill that continually surprised me. Harry took to being a dom with all the zeal I'd expected, and a finesse I had utterly not. But I digress: I was sore, and the feel of the knifeblade against my skin was magnified almost beyond bearing.
Harry was flushed, his scars standing out vividly. "You look good on the other side, Johnny," he said, something wild and nasty and eager simmering under every word.
The knife scraped over my nipple. I bit my lip.
Harry's dark eyes fixed on the motion. "Let me hear," he said.
He lowered the knife and swiped his thumb roughly along the same path. Skin to skin. I moaned for him, and I took pleasure in the filthy sound of my own voice.
Harry pressed the blade against my chest again, swept it in an arc that almost cut. I shuddered.
"Should I mark you?" he said, almost to himself.
It sounded like a good plan. He could make it a ritual. I would give myself to be bound to him and then he would be tied to me in return.
"Please," I said.
Harry groaned and flicked the knife shut. "We'll talk about it later, John, 'kay?" he said, nearly panting. He grabbed for the lube and fumbled it open, slicking himself up. "Hell's bells, I want you," he said, fervent and breathless and yes.
He grabbed my hips and pushed into me clumsily. "Don't come," he said, "not until I tell you."
I melted for him as he fucked me, riding out his rough motions, relishing him in me. It built and built as Harry pounded me, as he shoved my legs further apart and buried himself in me. He took me, and I took him gratefully, head thrown back, heat drowning me, muscles tightening--
A particularly harsh thrust made my eyes pop open. Harry took one glance at me and bit down on my collarbone, and orgasm was abruptly within reach-- which would have been wonderful if I had wanted it.
No. I forced the muscles of my abdomen and thighs to relax, but the moment I diverted my attention in the slightest they wound themselves taut again, forcing me closer, and Harry really wasn't helping by consistently finding my prostate. It was all perilously good.
"I can't--" I finally gasped, overwhelmed. "Harry-- I-- I'm going to--" I couldn't come, not yet, I needed to wait, to be good for Harry--
He was actually speeding up, pushing into me deeper. The friction against my cock kept growing more intense.
"I can't--- please let me, please, god, Harry, fuck--" I babbled, shaking, absolutely impaled on him. He wasn't stopping, why wasn't he stopping, did he want me to break my word?
The next thrust pushed me closer to orgasm than I'd known a person could be and not come. I'd lost track of the sounds I was making; my whole being was the constant litany of not yet not yet not yet and the terrible need pulling me closer and closer.
The next one-- there are honestly no words. I know I shrieked, and I dimly hoped that he knew what was going on, that he'd let me--
"Now," said Harry.
But I was stuck, trembling on the edge, locked up, and it hurt. To my horror I felt my eyes stinging.
"John?" Harry's stupidly large hands ran down my sides, then over my face, bringing me back to myself just enough for me to speak.
"I can't," I managed. Then: "I'm sorry."
He made a wordless crooning noise at me. Then he pulled out-- I made a pathetic noise and yanked at my bonds-- and moved down between my legs.
The first wet touch of his mouth on my dick rendered me voiceless. He slid down over me slowly, hot and sweet and blessedly simple, and there were definitely tears in my eyes now.
He swallowed around me, and there it was, crashing over me, slow at first and then so good, so fucking good that the only sound I could manage was a strangled mewl.
Harry pulled off me and swallowed. "I've got you," he said, petting my stomach, my thighs. I lay panting, wanting his hands to stay on me.
"I've got you," Harry said again. "Oh, John, you're wrecked, aren't you?"
He never sounded this soft, this fond at any other time. Every time it got me the same way.
I smiled faintly. "Just tell me what you want, Harry."
He lay over me like a bony blanket, wrapped me up in his long limbs, and entered me again.
"You're just gonna lie back and think of Chicago," he said, "and I'm gonna take good care of you." Mumbling filthy nothings, he rocked into me slow and steady, sharp teeth worrying at my neck.
When he came in me, it felt nearly as good as my earlier release had. Having him catching his breath, still in me... Christ, I was his and it sang all through me, a sublime contentment.
Harry raised his head, sweaty hair still sticking to his face. His eyes widened as he looked down at me. I wondered what I looked like to him, if he was seeing me through his power.
"Oh," he said, very softly. "John, you're..."
He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he buried his face in my shoulder and held me, his power twining around us both like a faint, electric mist.
Re: at last, FILL
(that was beautiful <3)
Re: at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-02-12 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)Re: at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-02-12 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-02-12 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)Re: at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-02-12 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)Re: at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-02-12 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: at last, FILL
Re: at last, FILL (OP here)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-26 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)Re: at last, FILL
(Anonymous) 2011-08-21 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)