The friction is almost too much. He does not think he can stand it, the wet warmth and softness, that tight rim like a vice stroking the length of him as he presses in and pulls out again...
Fuck, Essek will not last long like this. He’s amazed he’s lasted at all, surrounded as he is by these sounds and smells and the taste of Caleb, Caleb, Caleb who had reached inside of him and made him feel warm for the first time in a century, on a boat, in a tower, in the coldest place in the world. Essek’s tongue and teeth and lips worship the man, lingering on the smell of parchment and woodsmoke, of snow and a spice he did not recognize but was certain he’d never tasted in the Dynasty.
He hopes no one in the world knows of it. He wants this delicacy all to himself. Wants to hoard it, keep it wrapped tightly in silks and satins by his heart, keep it pressed inside his coat or tethered to his bedpost, bound and open and his, fuck, fuck, he burned for this man, he is burning—
“Essek!” Caleb howls and his whole body quakes, his hips clearly pushing down, desperate for the touch of anything — even the cold stone floor — on his cock. “Essek, Essek, danke, danke, mein Herr, meine Liebe, ich gehöre dir, ich bin dein, ich werde nehmen was immer du mir geben willst, bitte, fuck me, fuck me, please, s-so hot, it’s—”
Caleb’s cheek is pressed to the floor, ass in the air, Essek bent over him, gnawing and sucking at the point where neck meets shoulder, and Caleb sounds amazing. He sounds completely undone, every gasp followed by a whimper, a moan, a shout or a plea for more, for mercy, for anything Essek will give him. Caleb is so hot, so tight, his skin sweat-slick and delicious and trembling underneath Essek’s fingers and lips and tongue. Essek has no words, nothing conscious, nothing in his head that can describe the fire in his belly, how his heart feels so full it’s frightening. And yet along with the sound of his hips slapping against Caleb’s ass, Essek’s cock sliding slick into him, Caleb panting and sighing and almost sobbing, he can hear his own voice:
“Is this what you wanted, pet? You wanted me to fuck you? I should have done this ages ago. Claimed you in front of everyone, kept you tied to my bed and had my way with you for days. Should have kept you writhing on my cock, let you fall asleep riding it and wake up coming on it. And I will: I will suck you down until you finish, keep you there until you’re coming dry and weeping for me, I will keep my cock pressed into your throat until you choke on it and hold you there longer still. I’ll have the world watch while I fuck your face, let you keep my cock warm for me and fill your belly with my come, I’ll watch how jealous they are that I have you, that I get to have you, that I can call you mine.”
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, th- there!” The muscles along Caleb’s back and stomach tremble and Essek knows what he has hit upon, can feel Caleb’s hole twitching around him. He pulls out almost all the way, slapping the redhead’s pale flank in warning.
“I did not give you permission to come,” Essel snarls and it feels almost like someone else. Too much like himself.
“No, sir, I- I-”
“Good pet,” he slides back in and presses kisses along Caleb’s spine and neck, chuckling deep in his throat as he feels Caleb’s legs spread wider, his cock inching ever lower to the cold floor. “My good, sweet boy. So wet and open for me, let me feel you. I suppose you are trying to rub your cock on that cold stone floor, so desperate to come, yes? Beg, me, my sweet, my love, usstan orn morfeth dos satiir ji bwael, Caleb Widogast. Usstan orn xun jalbol whol dos. Usstan che dos, usstan che dos, ussta’chev—”
“Essek, Gods, PLEASE—”
“Please?”
“Please, sir, Essek, please, may I come…?“
“Yes,” Essek snarls, a thrill rolling through his entire body as he grabs Caleb’s cock in his tight fist and squeezes—
Caleb cries out as he starts to come, Essek’s hips picking up speed while Caleb’s wails climb in pitch. Essek fucks him harder, the rhythm becoming almost as though he were fucking through him and into his own fist, trying to fill Caleb as much as possible in every way, and blessed light he could live here, he could die here. Caleb’s legs give out and Essek lets them both drop, catching their weight as much as he can, but keeping his hand beneath his lover, letting their weight create a sheath for Caleb’s prick between his stomach and Essek’s hand.
All sound vanishes from Caleb’s lips as he convulses in rapture, pinned by a drow cock in his ass and a lithe hand around his hard length. The feeling of Caleb Widogast orgasming underneath him, around him, spunk in Essek’s hand and hole twitching around Essek’s cock, is like nothing else in the world. Essek feels somehow apart from and above and within everything all at once. He pumps his hips faster, squeezing the last few drops from the Zemnian’s hard flesh, and he can barely hear himself muttering all the while:
“I love you, I love you, my Caleb, so good, xi’hum, my darling, ussta’chev, you are so good, so warm, I love you, I am yours, I have always been yours, I love you, fuck, burning light of the hells, I love you, I love you, I love you…”
Essek comes with those words on his lips, filling Caleb with his come as though he means to claim every inch of the man, until he cannot move without feeling Essek’s seed inside of him.
In that hazy space with no sense of time, Essek burns with light and affection for this man. This beautiful man, who loves him in spite of everything. For a moment he feels that Caleb — no God or Luxon or celestial event, but Caleb Widogast — created this universe, with every complexity and shadow and ounce of goodness within it. Gods, he is so in love.
Usstan orn morfeth dos satiir ji bwael. — I will make you feel so good. Usstan orn xun jalbol whol dos — I will do anything for you. Usstan che dos — I love you
FILL: Verbose [Caleb/Essek] 10/12
Fuck, Essek will not last long like this. He’s amazed he’s lasted at all, surrounded as he is by these sounds and smells and the taste of Caleb, Caleb, Caleb who had reached inside of him and made him feel warm for the first time in a century, on a boat, in a tower, in the coldest place in the world. Essek’s tongue and teeth and lips worship the man, lingering on the smell of parchment and woodsmoke, of snow and a spice he did not recognize but was certain he’d never tasted in the Dynasty.
He hopes no one in the world knows of it. He wants this delicacy all to himself. Wants to hoard it, keep it wrapped tightly in silks and satins by his heart, keep it pressed inside his coat or tethered to his bedpost, bound and open and his, fuck, fuck, he burned for this man, he is burning—
“Essek!” Caleb howls and his whole body quakes, his hips clearly pushing down, desperate for the touch of anything — even the cold stone floor — on his cock. “Essek, Essek, danke, danke, mein Herr, meine Liebe, ich gehöre dir, ich bin dein, ich werde nehmen was immer du mir geben willst, bitte, fuck me, fuck me, please, s-so hot, it’s—”
Caleb’s cheek is pressed to the floor, ass in the air, Essek bent over him, gnawing and sucking at the point where neck meets shoulder, and Caleb sounds amazing. He sounds completely undone, every gasp followed by a whimper, a moan, a shout or a plea for more, for mercy, for anything Essek will give him. Caleb is so hot, so tight, his skin sweat-slick and delicious and trembling underneath Essek’s fingers and lips and tongue. Essek has no words, nothing conscious, nothing in his head that can describe the fire in his belly, how his heart feels so full it’s frightening. And yet along with the sound of his hips slapping against Caleb’s ass, Essek’s cock sliding slick into him, Caleb panting and sighing and almost sobbing, he can hear his own voice:
“Is this what you wanted, pet? You wanted me to fuck you? I should have done this ages ago. Claimed you in front of everyone, kept you tied to my bed and had my way with you for days. Should have kept you writhing on my cock, let you fall asleep riding it and wake up coming on it. And I will: I will suck you down until you finish, keep you there until you’re coming dry and weeping for me, I will keep my cock pressed into your throat until you choke on it and hold you there longer still. I’ll have the world watch while I fuck your face, let you keep my cock warm for me and fill your belly with my come, I’ll watch how jealous they are that I have you, that I get to have you, that I can call you mine.”
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, th- there!” The muscles along Caleb’s back and stomach tremble and Essek knows what he has hit upon, can feel Caleb’s hole twitching around him. He pulls out almost all the way, slapping the redhead’s pale flank in warning.
“I did not give you permission to come,” Essel snarls and it feels almost like someone else. Too much like himself.
“No, sir, I- I-”
“Good pet,” he slides back in and presses kisses along Caleb’s spine and neck, chuckling deep in his throat as he feels Caleb’s legs spread wider, his cock inching ever lower to the cold floor. “My good, sweet boy. So wet and open for me, let me feel you. I suppose you are trying to rub your cock on that cold stone floor, so desperate to come, yes? Beg, me, my sweet, my love, usstan orn morfeth dos satiir ji bwael, Caleb Widogast. Usstan orn xun jalbol whol dos. Usstan che dos, usstan che dos, ussta’chev—”
“Essek, Gods, PLEASE—”
“Please?”
“Please, sir, Essek, please, may I come…?“
“Yes,” Essek snarls, a thrill rolling through his entire body as he grabs Caleb’s cock in his tight fist and squeezes—
Caleb cries out as he starts to come, Essek’s hips picking up speed while Caleb’s wails climb in pitch. Essek fucks him harder, the rhythm becoming almost as though he were fucking through him and into his own fist, trying to fill Caleb as much as possible in every way, and blessed light he could live here, he could die here. Caleb’s legs give out and Essek lets them both drop, catching their weight as much as he can, but keeping his hand beneath his lover, letting their weight create a sheath for Caleb’s prick between his stomach and Essek’s hand.
All sound vanishes from Caleb’s lips as he convulses in rapture, pinned by a drow cock in his ass and a lithe hand around his hard length. The feeling of Caleb Widogast orgasming underneath him, around him, spunk in Essek’s hand and hole twitching around Essek’s cock, is like nothing else in the world. Essek feels somehow apart from and above and within everything all at once. He pumps his hips faster, squeezing the last few drops from the Zemnian’s hard flesh, and he can barely hear himself muttering all the while:
“I love you, I love you, my Caleb, so good, xi’hum, my darling, ussta’chev, you are so good, so warm, I love you, I am yours, I have always been yours, I love you, fuck, burning light of the hells, I love you, I love you, I love you…”
Essek comes with those words on his lips, filling Caleb with his come as though he means to claim every inch of the man, until he cannot move without feeling Essek’s seed inside of him.
In that hazy space with no sense of time, Essek burns with light and affection for this man. This beautiful man, who loves him in spite of everything. For a moment he feels that Caleb — no God or Luxon or celestial event, but Caleb Widogast — created this universe, with every complexity and shadow and ounce of goodness within it. Gods, he is so in love.
Usstan orn morfeth dos satiir ji bwael. — I will make you feel so good.
Usstan orn xun jalbol whol dos — I will do anything for you.
Usstan che dos — I love you