Caleb lets out a string of Zemnian so rapid and filled with groans and panting that Essek can barely recognize a single word in it. But by the way the human’s tongue is almost lolling out of his mouth and his ass is grinding back against Essek’s fingers, he is certain it is nothing but absolute filth.
Sweet light of the Luxon, Caleb looks divine like this. Eyes rolling back, hips gyrating madly, back arching every time Essek’s fingers brush his prostate, his cock fully hard and bobbing, leaking between his legs. Caleb is writhing like a wild man, like a beast without a thought in his head save for getting fucked, and gods, Essek may be a monster, might be a beast himself, but he wants him like this. All those thoughts in that brilliant head, that genius mind made dumb and dull, driven by pure, base need.
Essek realizes he is speaking as well, mumbling in Undercommon without any thought to the content of his speech. He can almost hear his voice as a distant echo, recalls phrases like “Usstan orn kl'ae dos hwuen dos ph'elggat,” and “Folt natha bwael ssindossa,” and “Usstan che dos, usstan che dos, vel’bol inbal dos xunor ulu ussa, xhenshen-nye…”
I will use you until you are ruined.
Such a good whore.
I love you, I love you, look what you’ve done to me, my darling…
Light curse him, he was a fool for this man. Making Caleb moan like this, seeing him without fear or worry for the first time since they’d met, head empty of any care save coming… it felt better perhaps than anything Essek had ever known. His discoveries of how to make this human sigh and shiver were richer and more wondrous than any arcane theorem he’d ever learned, more valuable than any spell he’d ever crafted.
“S-so, so close, Essek… Essek please, can I…”
Caleb’s face is pressed to the floor, his upper chest as well, and though Essek is thoroughly distracted — by the feeling of his cock rubbing against the crook of Caleb’s hip, the feeling of his soft, pale skin, the feeling of his wet hole clamped around Essek’s fingers — he can still Caleb’s elbow bending awkwardly as he tries to move his own hand to his cock…
Cruel though it was, Essek felt a vicious snarl escape him and yanks his fingers out of Caleb’s asshole, making the man sob for the sudden emptiness of it. Immediately, he lets go of Caleb’s hair, wipes his fingers on the ground and covers the man’s body with his own. Essek grabs those pale human wrists and pushes down, pinning him to the floor and moving his hips up and down, feeling his sensitive cock drag along the skin of Caleb’s thighs, between his cheeks.
“Tell me what you want, my pet,” Essek says, and hates himself because he knows he is not offering another chance for Caleb to back out, he just wants to hear Caleb beg.
“Please, Essek, please, please, I need you, it is so hot, s- so fucking hard, bitte, meine Götter, bitte, Essek I’m burning, I will die without your cock in me, I need you in me, I’ll give you anything you want, just fuck me pleas, please, please, pl—AHH!”
Gods
Essek pushes into his lover’s tight heat and cannot think. He is so warm, so tight, and still moaning and panting and pushing back against him in desperation, that the world around them becomes nothing. All there is are Caleb’s bare wrists below his fingers, the nape of Caleb’s neck against his lips, the warmth of Caleb’s back through the linen and the unbearable, slick tightness that squeezes him and makes him feel like he has lived his whole life in a cave, foolish and ignorant, playing with shadows on the wall when there was a world of warmth outside — inside — with this man. He is burning with it, just as Caleb is. Burning, like the light of a thousand Gods he’s never prayed to have finally turned upon him.
“Essek, Essek, please, liebe, please move—”
“Mine,” the drow growls, unhearing, sounding nearly feral as his lips devour the back of Caleb’s neck.
“Ja, yours, yours, please,” moans Caleb, and his head flies up so quckly it almost catches Essek in the chin. It’s the shock of this, rather than the begging, that pushes another growl out of him, makes his his hips pull back. And as he bites down on that beautiful, pale freckled skin, he pushes his cock back inside and he moves, oh fuck, he moves!
FILL: Verbose [Caleb/Essek] 9/12
Sweet light of the Luxon, Caleb looks divine like this. Eyes rolling back, hips gyrating madly, back arching every time Essek’s fingers brush his prostate, his cock fully hard and bobbing, leaking between his legs. Caleb is writhing like a wild man, like a beast without a thought in his head save for getting fucked, and gods, Essek may be a monster, might be a beast himself, but he wants him like this. All those thoughts in that brilliant head, that genius mind made dumb and dull, driven by pure, base need.
Essek realizes he is speaking as well, mumbling in Undercommon without any thought to the content of his speech. He can almost hear his voice as a distant echo, recalls phrases like “Usstan orn kl'ae dos hwuen dos ph'elggat,” and “Folt natha bwael ssindossa,” and “Usstan che dos, usstan che dos, vel’bol inbal dos xunor ulu ussa, xhenshen-nye…”
I will use you until you are ruined.
Such a good whore.
I love you, I love you, look what you’ve done to me, my darling…
Light curse him, he was a fool for this man. Making Caleb moan like this, seeing him without fear or worry for the first time since they’d met, head empty of any care save coming… it felt better perhaps than anything Essek had ever known. His discoveries of how to make this human sigh and shiver were richer and more wondrous than any arcane theorem he’d ever learned, more valuable than any spell he’d ever crafted.
“S-so, so close, Essek… Essek please, can I…”
Caleb’s face is pressed to the floor, his upper chest as well, and though Essek is thoroughly distracted — by the feeling of his cock rubbing against the crook of Caleb’s hip, the feeling of his soft, pale skin, the feeling of his wet hole clamped around Essek’s fingers — he can still Caleb’s elbow bending awkwardly as he tries to move his own hand to his cock…
Cruel though it was, Essek felt a vicious snarl escape him and yanks his fingers out of Caleb’s asshole, making the man sob for the sudden emptiness of it. Immediately, he lets go of Caleb’s hair, wipes his fingers on the ground and covers the man’s body with his own. Essek grabs those pale human wrists and pushes down, pinning him to the floor and moving his hips up and down, feeling his sensitive cock drag along the skin of Caleb’s thighs, between his cheeks.
“Tell me what you want, my pet,” Essek says, and hates himself because he knows he is not offering another chance for Caleb to back out, he just wants to hear Caleb beg.
“Please, Essek, please, please, I need you, it is so hot, s- so fucking hard, bitte, meine Götter, bitte, Essek I’m burning, I will die without your cock in me, I need you in me, I’ll give you anything you want, just fuck me pleas, please, please, pl—AHH!”
Gods
Essek pushes into his lover’s tight heat and cannot think. He is so warm, so tight, and still moaning and panting and pushing back against him in desperation, that the world around them becomes nothing. All there is are Caleb’s bare wrists below his fingers, the nape of Caleb’s neck against his lips, the warmth of Caleb’s back through the linen and the unbearable, slick tightness that squeezes him and makes him feel like he has lived his whole life in a cave, foolish and ignorant, playing with shadows on the wall when there was a world of warmth outside — inside — with this man. He is burning with it, just as Caleb is. Burning, like the light of a thousand Gods he’s never prayed to have finally turned upon him.
“Essek, Essek, please, liebe, please move—”
“Mine,” the drow growls, unhearing, sounding nearly feral as his lips devour the back of Caleb’s neck.
“Ja, yours, yours, please,” moans Caleb, and his head flies up so quckly it almost catches Essek in the chin. It’s the shock of this, rather than the begging, that pushes another growl out of him, makes his his hips pull back. And as he bites down on that beautiful, pale freckled skin, he pushes his cock back inside and he moves, oh fuck, he moves!