I rolled my hips till I felt the head of my cock graze his entrance, a noise somewhere between whimper and groan escaping his lips. Carefully, I leaned my weight forward, releasing a hiss through my teeth as his warmth enveloped me.
“There,” Cirian muttered, eyes closed, and brow furrowed as though he were contemplating some vexing equation. The hold of his legs tightened around me, preventing me from moving. “Stay right there.”
It was all I could do not to give myself over to the rising crest of pleasure right then and there. But instead, I matched my breathing to Cirian’s, observing the rise and fall of his chest as our two bodies became one for the first time.
I had never been one to dwell over the entanglement of physical and emotional needs. I had my share of partners over the years who had provided one or the other, and in the rare case, both. With Cirian, I always assumed that our attraction was something physical. Our bodies reacting to pheromones and visual stimuli, pushing us towards one another despite the tumultuous nature of our relationship.
But as I stood, hunched over him with my cock buried deep inside, a whisper of that tenuous green filament materialized between us, connecting his chest with mine.
Stay with me. Don’t leave. Don’t go away.
The words echoed through my mind, rippling out like a pond disturbed by a stone.
“I’m here,” I found myself saying, looking into those fathomless eyes as they grew wide. “I’m right here, Cirian.”
He reached for me, impossibly long arms wrapping around my neck to draw me down to him. The thread between us glowed ever brighter the closer I became, a flash of green emanating as our chests collided and our lips met. Cirian was desperate against my tongue, formless words vibrating from his throat as we kissed, and the grip of his legs lessened enough to allow me to move. I pumped my cock once, and those words dissolved against my tongue.
Stars burst into my vision as I set a steady pace, the sounds of our bodies colliding filling the room around us. Cirian’s cock pressed against me, rigid and leaking, with each stroke, and as his lips broke from mine, the noises that crossed his tongue twisted my insides like brambles.
My hands scooped under his thighs, pressing them back till his knees hit his chest, giving me a better angle to go deeper with my thrust.
“Fuck, Bast,” Cirian groaned, his hand falling to grip the base of his cock, the head of which shimmered with the proof of his pleasure. “Keep going. I can’t—I won’t last much longer.”
“Don’t hold back,” I told him, keeping my pace steady. “I want to watch you break. Come undone with my cock buried deep inside you.”
“Yes,” breathed Cirian. “Keep going, Bast.”
I was close. And so was he. I could feel him tightening around my shaft, his body preparing for the hard-earned release he sought. I would ensure that he got every bit of pleasure I could coax from him before I would give in to my own.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Bast, I—I’m?—”
His beautiful cock twitched, the grip of his hole clamping down on mine as he released ribbon after ribbon of white across his stomach and chest. I slowed my motions, continuing to grind against that spot within him that made his toes curl as he rode the wave of pleasure to its finale.
When at last his cock stilled, and his breathing returned to a relatively normal pace, I asked him, “Should I pull out?”
Cirian shook his head. “Don’t you dare. I’m not leaving this sofa without your seed inside of me.”
Those words nearly caused me to release on the spot.
Cirian exhaled a long sigh, spreading his legs once more and wrapping them around me, this time with a much gentler pressure.
“You heard me, Bast. Inside. I want it all.”
I nodded, reestablishing my pace. Cirian held my gaze, muttering encouragement as I drew closer to climax. His abdomen glistened with sweat and the slick of his seed, his cock half-hard now, flopping against his stomach in a steady rhythm.
With a final thrust, I buried myself within him with a grunt, the spasm of hot pleasure taking hold as I crested over the edge.Cirian reached for me, wrapping his arms around my sternum and pressing himself into me as I rode the waves of pleasure.
The heat of his skin against mine was a comfort, and he nibbled at my ear. Completely spent, I collapsed on top of him, my cock still sheathed inside.
“Do you still think I’m a wet blanket?” I asked him once I’d caught my breath.
He grinned up at me.
“Not nearly as wet as I am. Come. I’ll draw another bath.”
The water had long grown tepid, though that fact did little to stir either of us from our entangled state. Cirian's head lay squarely against my chest, clumps of his auburn hair stuck to my flesh in swirls that rivaled the brushstrokes of the greatest artists. His hands rested atop my knees as my legs surrounded him from both sides, holding him in place.
Exhaustion had begun to sink deeper into my body, aided by the residual heat of Cirian’s form pressed against mine. My eyes grew heavier with each passing moment, and I felt myself drift between waking and dream.
